Summary: Hi, I'm Alfred F. Jones, commonly known as the United States of America, and I've seen demons my whole life. No pairings.

I feel like I need to tell someone. Anyone would do, really. But every time I'm going to tell someone, they stop me. So I'll write it here, or else I feel like I will go insane.

Here let me start from the beginning...

Hi, I'm Alfred F. Jones, commonly known as the United States of America, and I've seen demons my whole life. They all look like my family and friends. They follow me around. I feel like I'll never live a peaceful life with them.

They started appearing when I was little. I was playing with my bunny in a small prairie when it appeared out if nowhere, rising out of the ground and in front of me. It had wigs that were black as night and horns sloped down out of its head. Its skin was a greyish white, and it had a pointy tail. It also had a malevolent aura. It was shaped like a human; ice cold light blue eyes, and black hair. But the creepiest thing was that it looked just like me.

At first, I didn't know I was in the presence of a demon. I thought it was a mythical creatures, like the ones Arthur always talks about. It scared me. "W-Who are you?" I stuttered. "We are whoever you want us to be," The demon gave me toothy smile, just like mine, except the fact that my teeth aren't all pointy. I tilted my head, "You look just like me." The demon giggled, "That's because we are you, silly." His giggled was sickening. "Huh? I thought you said you were whatever I wanted you to be," I asked. "I lied," The demon smiled innocently. "Lying is wrong. England said so. Also, how can you be me?" I said. The demon laughed. "Your little England said that? What a hypocrite!" It continued to laugh. I didn't deny what he said, because I didn't know what hypocrite meant at the time.

"We are you. We represent your pain, your anger, and your deepest desires," The demon then whispered into my ear. I gulped and wanted to cry. I didn't though. At that time, I wanted to show England how strong I could be. "Wha-What do you want with me?" I said with a voice that was a bit stronger. "I only want to play." If only I had noticed how malevolent he sounded at that moment, I would have never smiled, thought it was fine, and said okay.

We did play. I have to admit that I had fun. After a while and a lot of play dates, that demon, who claimed to be me, who claimed that England just saw me as another one of his colonies, who claimed that the people around me were all acting, who claimed England didn't love me as his little brother, became someone I could trust. It became a person to me. I named him Al, because he looked like me.

I never told Arthur about Al. I thought he would forbid me from seeing him. Al wasn't really the greatest influence to say the least. We had fun, but because of him I distrusted a lot of people. After many years spent together, he just disappeared, but I started feeling watched. I grew paranoid (I feel like I'm being watched right now). I couldn't even trust England, who had become just like a father to me.

During the time Al disappeared, England was fighting a war that would be known as the French and Indian War. The war made me a little happy. After so long, I could finally see my brother again. No one can defeat the British Empire, I used to tell myself. The second demon appeared at that time, too. It looked like France. It was extremely creepy. The whites of its eyes were black and the irises were white. Its hair was purple, and its skin was lilac. Its mouth was half open, and tears were falling down its eyes. Its horns fell down, its wings were black (but not as black as Al's), and its pointy tail would twitch. Unlike Al, France's demon just stood still and stared at you. I could try to run, but when I turned around, it would be right there; standing, staring, and crying. Then, after stalking me for a while, it would disappear for a small period of time, and then appear again.

One night, I woke up feeling watched. France's demon was in the corner of my room, doing what it does best. I screamed, but no one was home at the time. I would yell for Al to help me even if I hadn't seen him in years. Once, grown tired of the demon, I hit it in the face with the butt of a gun. All it did was bruise its for a few seconds. My paranoia got so bad that I couldn't sleep at night. I would cry myself to sleep and wake up an hour later because of a panic attack.

Every time England came, he would notice that I has insomnia and give me some tea so I could sleep. England, a man that claimed he could see the unseen, couldn't see the demon staring at me. The tea always worked, but it seemed like England was the only one that could prepare it well, because every time I tried to prepare it, I failed. Maybe the only reason it worked was because England was there with me, to protect me, and no one could defeat the British Empire.

Everyday I was more and more desperate for the war to end. I thought, that if France left the New World, his demon would leave, too. I also wanted my brother back. Maybe he could help me if I told him.

I once couldn't take it anymore and went to England for help. He believed me, so he tried everything to get rid of the demon he couldn't see. Exorcism and Black Magic did nothing. In the end, England gave up and told me it was all in my head. It was all because of "the damn Frog and his influence in the colonies."

I was right. When France left the New World, his demon went with him. I got a full night of sleep for the first time in years. My brother also became a colony. He spoke more French than English, but we were still able to communicate. We were able to spend a lot of time together. I helped him in English, and he helped me learn French.

It took another year, but another demon appeared. One I already knew. Al was under the tree in my front yard when I saw him. He looked looked just like me, as always. Our only differences was our hair and eye color, and the fact that he's a demon. I ran to him. He had the same malevolent aura, and he was smirking. I happily greeted him, completely ignoring the fact that he might be evil. Al put his cold hands to my shoulders and said, "Here, want me to tell you something about little old Britain?"

At that time, no one was in my house. England was somewhere else (he would never tell me), and my brother was back in Canada. I told Al that he could tell me. The things he told me weren't nice. Slowly, because of Al's words, a small flame that wanted to be free from a higher power (and that I never knew I had) grew. At the same time, tensions with Great Britain and the Thirteen Colonies grew.

England had come to a new me. My attitude to him changed from respect to disrespect. England tried to control me, but could not. Every time I would curse at him and told him that if he disappeared from the face of the Earth, I wouldn't care. It was all because Al told me that everything England did for "my own good" was really for his own good.

"Why are you doing this?" I yelled at England. "It's for your own good," He would answer in a neutral tone. "You're keeping me locked up? For my own safety?" I was agitated. "You'll soon understand, America," England then left without saying another word. I tried to take deep breaths and calm myself down. "See what I'm telling you, Alfred?" I turned around and saw Al siting on the very edge of my bed. "He's taking away your must precious thing, what you were built on," Al then looked at me. I noticed he was trying to hide a smirk. "Freedom."

Years passed, and my revolution started. Al once again disappeared without a single trace. My people were doing terrible at first, but after the Battle of Saratoga, we were off pretty good. That's when the third demon appeared.

It was raining. I needed to take a walk to escape the war, but the war followed me. All alone in the rain, I heard crying. I looked around to see who it was. I saw it. The only thing that told me it was a demon were its wings, horn and tail. The demon's skin was a creamed colored. Its hair was red. The most peculiar thing about the demon were its wings, horns, and tail. Unlike Al or France's demon, its wings, horns, and tail were wine colored, and the wings were ripped at the bottom. The demon then spotted me. Its light green eyes narrowed. This was England's demon. I could tell by the eyebrows. Tears kept falling from its eyes. I noticed the demon was bleeding through its mouth.

I gulped but stayed quiet. The demon slowly lifted its trembling arm and pointed at me. "Y-You! It's your fault!" The demon yelled and spit some dark colored blood out if its mouth. "Why? Do you hate me?" It kept yelling. I stayed quiet. The demon started coughing and tried to cover it with its hand, but it didn't work. The dark blood fell to the wet soil. After seconds of it, the demon fell knees first to the soil. "I thought we were family," The demon then disappeared to the soil.

It started to rain harder. I still wasn't use to seeing demons. I took a couple of steps back. I slowly ran to the nearest river, splashed water on my face, and took deep breaths. I started to hear Al's voice.

"Don't listen to him."

"You aren't important to him."

"All he's trying to do is manipulate you into staying."

I turned around, but saw no demon. It scared me so much. I feel like I'm completely alone. I felt alone in the world.

Years flew and I kept seeing England's demon. It was always the same routine, same words, but sometimes it would add, "You will pay." And sometimes, it would attack me. It would run to me, raise one arm in striking position, I would close my eyes and wait to get hit, but when I opened them again, the demon would be gone. It would constantly disappear and appear. I told nobody about the encounters. They would all probably think I'm crazy.

When the revolution was won and England's demon appeared, it would be the same routine, except for the fact that all the demon would say was, "Why? Why did you do this to me? Why do you hate me?" It sounded sorrowful, and I pitied it. But then Al's voice would appear and scream, "Lies." I believed Al. He has been my best friend since I was little. At least, I thought at the time.

Once the British soldier completely left my country, England's demon stopped its appearances. It made me relieved, but I knew it wasn't over. I would be restless at night, because I feared of them coming back. I started to fear Al. At this period, I already knew he was a demon, and that they were very dangerous.

Time passed slowly, but during that period, little by little, I started getting relaxed. There were no demons, yet I still felt watch (but I thought it was normal for a nation). For a moment, I thought the demons were there because of England's control. I was finally free of them, or so I thought...

Another war with England started, and my brother was dragged into it. I got a fear that a demon would appear. For a while, there wasn't a demon. I am free of them, I thought. I thought that before the Battle of York. A couple of weeks after the battle, I started seeing two demons, England's demon and Canada's, my own brother's, demon. Unlike last time, England's demon was only glaring at me and stood behind Canada's. Canada's demon had black hair, lilac irises, pale skin (not as pale as Al's), its horn were facing down, its wings purplish black, and its tail twitch. The demon's clothes was burnt in places, and I could see what were probably second or third degree burn marks in visible places. It was always glaring at me and tightening it fists. Like France's demon, it followed me around quietly. Unlike France's demon, there were times were it would yelled, "Why? You bastard! I thought you were my brother! You will pay! You hear me? Pay!" And then, it disappear. It didn't matter what time of day it was. That demon would scream it day and night. Once again, I was suffering from sleepless nights.

I did pay later on. The burning of the White House wasn't pretty. Canada's demon disappeared after that, but England's demon remain. The peculiar thing about England's demon was that I could only see it behind me in the mirrors. It would glare, gulp, and tighten its fists. I wondered why. Maybe because it was getting ready to attack, but couldn't. I don't know, maybe. It disappeared when the war was over.

The next demon was Mexico's. Dark skinned, dark eyes covered under long bangs, black wings and tail, and small horns. It would glare and growl at me. It also looked like it wanted to claw my eyes out, but something was holding it back. "Give them back!" It barked at times. "They're mine!" The demon said. I would always scream back, "No! They're free now!" I was really naïve, still am. As you might know now, the demon was gone when the war ended.

Once again, there was a period of time with no demons in sight. It was how I liked it. I had one less thing to worry about. I hoped it could stay like that. But as always, that wasn't the case. It was during my civil war. I learned a very important thing about the demons back then.

I was too weak to fight in the war. I was constantly bleeding, and my body bandaged all over. Even my bed was covered in blood. One day, I woke up to find Al sitting on the chair that was next to my bed. He was looking at something that was on the other side of my room. I followed his gaze and found another demon; another one that looked like me. This time, the demon had reddish black hair, greenish black eyes, and its skin was a shade darker than Al's. The demon's wings were ripped at the bottom, kind of like England's, but worse.

"Remember when you asked me who I was, and I answered we are something something something?" Al asked after a while. I nodded. I was little at the time. I never noticed he answered using we. "We are more. I'm the nicest," Al said. At that moment, demon number two jumped to my bed and pushed me down. I was trapped. "He represents the Confederacy's desire," Al stood up. "He doesn't want to harm you," Al looked at me. "He wants to talk to you," he said. "Then why is it speaking?" I growled. Al glared at me, "You just aren't listening!" The demons disappeared.

I didn't get what happened at the moment. I was in too much pain to comprehend some things. I just laid down and tried to think. 'I wasn't listening? No, he wasn't speaking...' I thought. Without knowing, I once again fell asleep.

The demon, Number Two, did a lot of things during its period with me. The servants gave me a lot of things for me to fall asleep. It was the only way to avoid pain. When I would wake up, the room was trashed. Food the servants brought to me was on the floor. I would sometimes wake up with slashes and dark marks on my skin that I knew weren't because of the war. After every attack, the word LISTEN would be written or clawed on the wooden walls. I knew it was Number Two doing everything. The attacks were less frequent as the North advanced. I made me happy, because from passed experiences, I knew the demon would leave when the war was over.

But it wasn't like that. When the war ended, Number Two still appeared; not like before though. What it did was stand in a corner, and gave me a look that asked why. It bled terribly. Blood could fall from to triceps and drip from his hands. It still wouldn't say a word. I chose to ignore it. When the Reconstruction was over, Number Two was gone, and I was so relieved.

Spain's demon appeared in the Spanish-American War. It wouldn't look at me. The demon was always looking at the ground, repeatedly whispering, "It's not my fault." Like Number Two, I ignored it. The war continued and the demon would add to its chant, "Believe me." I still ignored it. I tried to, at least. You must now know when the demon disappeared.

WW1 and WW2 were the worst. The most demons I've confronted at the same time were two. In this wars, various came at one time. Most of them looked terrible. In World War One, England's demon would scream, "Help me! Join, you Bastard!" Others would be whining and crying. Some would just stay put, but it was easy to see how distressed they were. The demons were both friends and enemies. Both would scream and mumble. It was driving me insane.

I was in my desk rubbing my temples when he came. "You know, this war would be over sooner if you just joined," Al said as he suddenly appeared behind me. I jumped when I heard him. It had been a while. "I-I can't. I have to keep my neutrality," I mumbled. "I have to keep my neutrality," The demon mocked me. "Ha! Do you really think I believe that load of mumbo-jumbo?" He asked me, and I said nothing. So after a while, Al sighed, "Oh Alfred... We represent you deepest desires. You want this war to be over. You want them gone. C'mon, I know you! You know you can't do shit in Europe without having one of your vessels blown to bits." He exaggerated and chuckled. I stayed quiet. Al patted me on the shoulder, "You'll see what I mean. This war will not end without you in it. Both sides are way too stubborn..." He left me alone.

I saw what Al meant some time later. Did it make me happy? No, it did not. I didn't want to be in European affairs, or see the horrors this once civilised continent had. Sure, I felt happy I could help my fellow Allies, but it was still war. The demons that haunted me continued to haunt me during the rest of the war. Everyone thought my restless nights were because of the fighting. No one saw those demons, and it really pissed me off.

Soon after WW1 came the Great Depression. Not the best time of my life; not even close. Al was the one next to me during the time. He was bleeding profoundly, and it looked like he didn't even notice. Sometimes, he would collapse to the ground and disappear. Then, he would come the next day like nothing happened. It was hard not do anything, because every time I said he was bleeding, he would deny it. We never really talked. He just followed me around like a lost puppy, which was unlike him. Even after the Great Depression was over, he still followed me. "Normally, the demons will leave the it's all over," I once told him. "Oh Alfred... We never left in the first place," He responded neutrally. He had a point. Even after the demons left, I still felt watched. I was still paranoid.

WW2 was the worst. I couldn't stand seeing so many demons around me. Al had left me a year before the war started, so I was alone. Some of them would get their hands on my clothes and pull me to the ground. No one could help me, because no one saw them. They all thought I was crazy. Some attacked me; others pleaded for my help. There were times were I ran and hid in the small closet under the stairs. It was so small only one person fit in it. They never left me alone; when some left, others would appear.

Once, I was in the closet, leaning against the door as the demons banged on it. I was trying to take deep breaths so I would get another episode of panic attacks. Tears were falling out of my closed eyes. "Beware, Alfred," I heard Al's voice (which was basically mine) say. My eyes snapped open. I stepped away from the door. "Sho-Show yourse-self," I was even scared of Al. "The worst is yet to come, my boy," I heard him chuckle. "St-Stop! Go away!" I yelled. "Just you wait!" I swear he was smiled. "Leave me alone," I put my hands over my ears. The last thing I heard from Al was his maniacal laugh fading away.

I was once again thrown into a world war. This time was because of Japan, so his demon stood out from the crowd and personally taunt me. There were times were I was in the brink of insanity. I would black out and wake up to a destroyed room. I like to blame those demons for Hiroshima and Nagasaki. "Please, anything to make this war end, to make them stop! Just make them stop..." I remember saying. No one understood the real meaning of my words. Sure, all the demons disappeared after the war officially ended, but I still felt watched. It was better than before though.

It was strange after that. No demons appeared during the Cold War, the Vietnam War, the Korean War, or any war after that really. Believe it or not, it terrified me, more than actual demons appearing. It was rare for demons not to appear during wars. The only thing I felt during this periods were more pair of eyes watching me. I still had sleepless nights. It was rare for me to sleep full nights. The tea England made me when he came over wasn't working anymore. My life was, and still is awful.

Now let's go a little bit more to the present. Last year, I got out of bed to watch my face. I looked in the mirror and sighed when I saw the dark circles under my eyes. "When will it stopped?" I groaned and watched my face. When I looked back at the mirror, I gasped. A black smoke silhouette with a defaced head was behind me. I turned around quickly and saw nothing. I screamed loudly and ran out of the bathroom and back to my room. I sat in the corner.

"Poor, poor Alfred," I gasped when I heard that voice. "Al!" I yelled. He appeared in front of me, smirking. "What was that? In the bathroom?" I gulped and thought that I would not like the answer. He chuckled and shook his head, "Silly boy, you've finally met the third of us!" I didn't understand, "What?" He stopped smiling and glare at me, "Haven't you paid any attention?" I said nothing. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and lifted me off the ground. I grabbed his wrist. "Ever since the first day, I've said we, no?" Alfred growled. He has never scared this much. I quickly nodded. I felt like if I said the wrong answer, his pointy teeth will sink into my skin. He looked away and chuckled, "That nation memory." He then looked at me again, "You met, how do you call him? Number Two was it? You met him in your civil war. Now, right behind me, the last of us is there," He smirked. I looked behind him and saw it coming closer. I wanted to run away.

Al let go of me, and I fell to the ground. "What is it doing here? What does it want?" I yelled to Al. "The real question is what do you want?" Al answered. "We represent your pain, your anger, and your deepest desires, Alfred. What do you want?" Al asked. I was quiet. "Here's a clue," Al said and went to the defaced demon. "Poor little... Faceless... Yeah... Poor little Faceless has to wear a mask so he can go places." At that moment, Faceless' face had a face. My face. It was smiling like an idiot. I wanted to smack that smile off its face, because it's the same idiotic smile I use in world meetings. "Sadly, Faceless' mask is breaking, but he can't just buy a new one." I saw how Faceless' face began to crack. "He also wants his 'friends' to see his real self, but there is one tiny problem. Do you know what that problem is, Alfred?" Al looked at me. "Is it a-afraid hi-his friends will fear it?" I stuttered. Al smirked. "Good boy. And you know what? Until that problem is solve, Faceless here will stay with you," His smirked got bigger.

I blinked a couple of times. "Wha-What? You can't do this to me!" I yelled. "And why not?" Al looked at me. "Be-Because you're my friend!" It spilled out of my mouth. "Friend? Ha! You really thought I was your friend! Befriending a demon? That's messed up! Your peers are right. You really are an idiot!" Al faded away. I was left with that demon, who had a cracked mask of my face. I don't know how long I'd stared at it.

Today, I'm writing this letter, because I can't take it any longer. Since that day, I knew seeing these demons was a curse. It will never end. I need help, but no one can give it to me.

Every time I look for help they stop me. My phone will fly out of my hands when I try to contact someone. They will mess with my computer when I try send an email. Hopefully, they won't rip this letters like the ones I tried to send long ago...

So to whomever it may concern,

If I really decide to go and disappear, don't go looking for me. Please, don't bring me back. I bet it'll be better somewhere else. I'll be fine. I promise, and I always keep my promises.

-Alfred F. Jones, aka The United States of America

I always told myself I wouldn't write anything with history in it. Whoops...

I tried not to go too historical. There're probably mistakes and exaggerations.

Review if you want to know the demons desires.