"You fatass"

"Moron"

"God, why can't you take things seriously for once?"

"You're such a screw up!"

"Now I see why the world hates you"

"Why don't you try showing up on time for a change!?"

All of these statements and more floated through America's head as he sat in his living room after the world conference. Every time he had a conversation with one of his fellow nations they always ended up insulting him. Even his own brother told him that he was the ass of the world!

What did I do to make every one hate me!

America knew that he had made mistakes and had screwed things up, but so had every other nation in the world! They weren't perfect and he sure as hell knew it. He sighed as he ate his dinner consisting of homemade chicken and cooked vegetables.

He hated that everyone thought that he was just some fatass who lived his life on McDonalds or other fast food joints. Sure they were great places to stop if he was in a rush, like when he was on his way to world meetings, but he ate other healthy things too! He loved almost any type of vegetable, and would actually rather eat a salad than a big greasy hamburger!

He also tried to arrive to the world meeting on time! He really had but on the way he had run across the scene of a hit and run and had stopped to help the young woman who had been hit. Turns out she was hit by a foreigner driving on the wrong side of the road. The man hadn't cared enough about a 'stupid American' to even check to see if she might be okay. The young woman had ended up in the hospital with ten broken bones and a bad concussion. The doctors told her she was lucky to be alive.

When America had arrived at the meeting he was met with accusations as to why he was late. Every single one had consisted of him losing track of time trying to get fast food. But instead of correcting them he just plastered on his 'Hero Smile' and told them how amazing McDonalds was. After all he couldn't disappoint them by ruining their image of him being a brainless idiot.

That was his problem though; he never wanted to let anyone down. That's why he always tried to be the hero of the world, to save people from each other. He saved people and helped them, but in the end they just criticized him, and accused him of being where he didn't belong. But every time they needed something from him they were quick to accuse him of not being a hero, of not protecting innocent people, and try to force his hand into action.

Sighing America stood up and cleared the table before heading off to bed. The next morning he awoke at 4:30, an hour and a half before he had to be at the world meeting. After pulling himself from the warm bed and taking a quick shower, he dressed in his usual uniform and slid into him bomber jacket.

Once he was sure that he had everything he need for the meeting he headed towards the meeting hall a bit early. After a peaceful drive, or as peaceful a drive through the streets of D.C. could be, he entered the building a full ten minutes before the meeting was set to start. He heard the low murmur of voice from the meeting room signifying that some people had already arrived, but before he could open the door he heard something that broke his heart.

"Mes Amis shouldn't we stop now before Petite Amerique comes and hears us?"

"You Bloody Git! You know that he never even comes on time so why would you think he would be early, of all things!"

"I agree with England, Da! But Amerika is anything but small, he is quite fat, Da?

"I agree, Aru! If he spent half the time his spends worried about food on his country maybe he wouldn't owe me so much money, Aru!

"Yes and maybe his country wouldn't be comprised of the fattest people in the world!

"He needs to learn to look past his own swollen ego and see how he affects the rest of the world!"

"No he just needs to stay out of everyone else's affairs!"

"I think that part of this is England's fault, Da?

"Why You!"

"Non, non think about it Mon Ami, you did raise the little brat didn't you?"

"I agree with France."

"Yes they are right; something had to have caused this!"

"Well if this is somehow any fault of mine, then let it be known that I would go back and fix that mistake in a heartbeat if I could!"

"Well you are the one with the 'magic' why don't you go do it?

"IT'S REAL!"

"Sure whatever you say"

America couldn't stand to listen to anymore, and slammed the door open. The countries were momentarily shocked by the loud noise, but quickly recovered their bearings.

"You Git you're late!" England said glaring at the American standing in the doorway.

America just turned to England with a dead look in his eyes. "Actually I am five minutes early, England."

The whole room stared at America in shock, while he quickly scanned the room making and holding eye contact with no one.

"Is it true?" he asked in a quite monotone voice continuing to glance around the room.

"Is what true, you bloody moron! Speak clearly and concisely if you are going to be speaking!" England scolded him.

"Is that really what you all think of me? That I am useless, a mistake? That the world would be better off if I was never here?" America paused taking in the expressions of shock on the other countries faces.

After the shock wore of he was devastated to see many countries nodding their heads in agreement with his statement. He waited to see if anyone would negate his statement but they just continued to stare at him.

Finally Russia glared at him, "you have your answer now, so what are you going to do?"

America didn't even bother to answer before turning around and walking out, and not a single person called for him to come back. Not that he would have answered if they did but I would have been nice to know someone cared. It would have been nice to know someone cared if he lived or died, but he knew that no one did.

As he drove home he considered what his life had become. The once vibrant, happy, carefree man was wallowing in depression. With all the economic crisis's going on the country of freedom was slowly becoming sicker. The only things that had kept him going were the need to be a hero for those countries that couldn't protect themselves and his people. But now knowing what all of the other countries thought, and knowing they didn't need, nor want, his help, he was only left with his people.

His people who everyday were complaining about the country they lived in. People who were burning and destroying his flag that he worked so hard to earn. People who were saying how they couldn't wait to move, to leave America. People who were saying that they thought that the current day America was a huge mistake. People who no longer needed him.

With these thoughts in mind America slowly walked into his penthouse and towards his bedroom. He numbly sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper, and a pen. After pouring everything he had been feeling for the last few decades out onto the paper he folded it and wrote across the front, to anyone who actually cares, and left it sitting proudly on the spotless desk.

He then proceeded to walk to his closet and pull out a small black and silver pistol that England had given him for his last birthday. Once he was sure that he had ammunition he slowly walked back into his bedroom, and lay down on his bed. He smiled at the small gun and with a steady hand placed the barrel to his temple. He chuckled bitterly and looked at the ceiling.

I guess in the end I will just be another lazy, fat, stupid American lying down for a nap and never waking up.

BANG