Hello! So ya'll are probably wondering what this story is about, weeeeelllll sorry but it isn't about America... The character is related to America though! She is his sister. A lot of the other Hetalia characters are also included in this story so don't worry you'll see them! So enjoy and Review, hopefully my next chapter will be out soon. :)

**Disclaimer** I do not own Hetalia. The only character I own in here is American Soldier.

Chapter 1: Who am I?

Some often say it's sad that people must tear themselves apart for such small things as land or politics… But I know now they don't tear themselves apart for that. The reason I say that is because I've already done it. I am American Soldier, also known as Anne Jolene or A.J.. Don't you remember me? Of course you don't…. You aren't supposed to… It's hard to know who I am when all most nations see of me is a glimpse of a scarred face, blurring as she runs through the melee of the battle field. Not when all you can bother to hear is either the thundering ring of gunfire or the screaming voices of soldiers after the short sound of a bullet hitting its mark. Now before I bore you to death with my sob story, I'll just start with the beginning of all things: normality.


I walked into my room which was covered in news clippings, magazines, and different clothes chucked onto the floor. After a long sigh, I winced as I sat on my bed. I was covered in scars, so it was hard to really sit down. I took off my boots and looked around, remembering a few things, sitting in the dim-lit place in which I'd go to be alone… I ran a hand through my scruffy brown hair that was most often tied in a ponytail.

"Hey, sis! Do you know where my computer is?" My brother called. I scowled a little. He was loud and my ears were tender…

"In here… I had to use it for a sec…" I called back. Soon after, I heard the footsteps of my brother and then he walked in, tilting his head and then looking around my room with his big, blue eyes.

"Jeez… Don't ya think you should… you know… clean up a little…?" He said, tapping an old news clipping with the tip of his foot. I looked up at him with eyes that had long been dulled by memories.

"Look who's talking…" I came back with. He paused and looked down, unsure what to say to that one. I was referring to his storage room packed with old and useless things that somehow he can't bring himself to get rid of. Well I was just like that, except it was my bed room, I didn't use storage rooms for that sort of thing. I turned storage rooms into tool houses. Plus, he spent as much time away from that room as he possibly could. Me? I wallowed in here. It even scared my bro sometimes. Now was one of those times.

"When are ya gonna hang out with me a little while, huh…?" He asked gently, so as not to irritate me. I sighed.

"… I'll be out there soon… Just… wait a few minutes, okay?" I looked up at him from my bed. The only response I received back was a somewhat sad look in his eyes and a soft sigh as he walked away. He new that the meaning of that response was 'no'. Normally I'd make promises like that… Yeah, I'll hang out with you. Ten minutes later, I'm lying on my bed either sobbing for the rest of the night or asleep and reliving memories I've tried so hard to forget.

I moved a certain way and I gasped in pain, my hand slapping over my left eye. I pulled it back to look to see it was bleeding again. Fucking scars… I sighed and stood up. This was a daily occurrence for me. Scars open up, get a bandage, go back to bed to drown in my own mind. I had two long scars that made an X shape traveling over my eye. Those two were fairly recent… So it's gonna take a while for them to heal up properly. I got a bandage and wrapped around my head to cover my eye then went back on the bed to think. Something poked my back and I sat up, quirking a brow. I reached underneath me and I pulled out a knife in a leather pouch. I stared at it. The pouch looked like something you wouldn't see today. And the knife didn't look so mechanical as so many knifes do now… without any life in them or detail to look back on. This knife looked like it was made with human hands, with a hammer and an anvil. Into the blade were my initials, A.J. and in the wooden handle with brass lining, were flawed carve marks. I stared at it for a long time, and just like that, memories flooded my head…


Suspense city. I promise my chapter will be out! Probably tomorrow or the day after on 2/21/13!