Probably not the best things to put this as (Hurt/comfort and Tragedy D:) but I'm not good with categories lol

If you haven't figured it out yet, my fic is going to be about the Civil War. Yes, there are other American Civil War fics out there that are probably better than mine but I wanted to do my own take on it :)

I don't know if they had World Conferences during this time, but I'm just going to put them in here :D And no, there won't be any pairings *screams and hides from fangirls*

Blame my inspiration on Like Toy Soldiers by Eminem and Civil War pictures on Deviant art xD

I DON'T OWN HETALIA!

I sit in the conference room in silence right after England told me off a few minutes earlier. I tap my finger impatiently thinking about my talk with the boss that the southern states have been a bit rowdy lately, making me feel uneasy. Personally, I agree with the northern states because I don't like the idea of slavery, but I'm also part of the south so somewhere deep down inside, I have to agree with them too. Maybe when this meeting's over I might be able to convince the south to get rid of slavery peacefully. I mean, heroes are supposed to prevent violence…right?

"America!" I jerk in my seat at the sound of Germany's booming voice. A few snickers are heard from some of the other countries at my 'funny' reaction and I take a quick look around the room. "Stop tapping your finger against ze desk. It's getting annoying." He orders. I quickly put both of my hands on my lap and pay close attention to Germany.

"Sorry." I mumble and Germany turns back to the board at the front of the room.

"Now, vhere vere ve?" He taps his chin for a second thinking of what he was talking about, which I have no clue what so ever, and looks back at the conference table. "Ah yes. Now, does anyone have any questions?" I look around the table until I spot Italy raising his hand. Germany lets out an exasperated sigh and points to the nation without another word.

"Ve~ May we have lunch now? I'mma staving." He whines, and I silently agree as my stomach hungers for a hamburger. Germany, on the other hand, does not.

"No. Ve still have a few zings to go over." He says, pounding a fist on the desk causing Greece to wake up.

"Huh, what? I'm up I'm up!" Greece rapidly looks around the room, his eyes alert despite his usual laid back personality. Across the table, I hear Turkey laughing his head off while Greece gives him a glare. I'll tell ya if looks could kill, Turkey would have died a long time ago.

"Stop laughing!" Germany barks but I don't pay attention to Turkey's small protest because I have the sudden urge to take off my glasses. In fact, it's more than an urge; it's something I can't resist. I take them off quickly and stuff them in my jacket pocket, not giving my action's a second thought.

"But Germanyyy!" Italy presses on.

"No Italy, eat vhen you get home." Germany says.

"But I'mma hungry." Italy pouts making Germany sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Even if I vere to say yes vhat vould you eat? Zere's no food around here." He says a bit more calmly. Italy digs in his pocket and pulls out something stringy.

"Pasta~" He says, holding up the gooey pale food in his hand, some pasta noodles sliding between his fingers and falling on the table next to France.

"Ce slops, you actually keep it in your pocket?" France asks Italy who nods frantically.

"Yes, I can't go without it. I'd do anything for pasta." He smiles and hugs the noodles, getting the chest part of his uniform covered in grease. France, on the other hand, smiles deviously and flicks some noodles off the table.

"Anything, Italie?" France purrs.

"France you disgusting frog, can't you go one day without thinking about having an intercourse with someone?" England says smoothly a few seats down from France, elbow rested on the table. "You make me sick." I catch him mumble.

"Oh pipe down over there, you're just being jealous like you always are." France coos.

"What does intercourse mean?" Italy asks innocently. Normally I would find this funny, which I do, but I'm not laughing. What if I can't laugh? I think and find myself rubbing the front of my neck to find some sort of unnatural gap.

"Nock it off you zree and let's get back to ze meeting." Germany growls and receives a respectful silence. "Now, anyone else have a-" He begins but quickly pauses when his gaze turns to me. "America, vhy aren't vearing your glasses?" He asks me and soon everyone's attention is on me too. I stop rubbing my neck and shrug.

"Don't feel like wearing-" I stop, seeing a figure behind Germany. He wears my glasses, has my hair minus the Nantucket, and the creepy part…he has my face. He also sports a tan suit that looks like a kind of Soldier's uniform and has a matching colored hat.

I stand up quickly and my chair goes flying back before toppling over with a wooden thud. A sudden bubble of anger that didn't exist before pops and flows through my veins, executing all other emotions. I don't know where it came from but it's like this person is a foe I've known for years. What heightens my anger even more is that he begins to laugh, menacingly, then stares at me with similar blue eyes only more dangerous.

"Let the war…begin."

Ce slops- This slop

Italie- Obviously Italy (Used google translate so I'm sorry if I'm wrong D:)

Please, history experts, try to hold back on correcting me about my facts throughout the story because I have a feeling I might get SOME fact wrong xD and I apologize if I butchered up the accents :P I think I tend to do that sometimes :D

Please review so that way I know SOMEBODY out there likes my story! :)