The people nowadays don't have an identity anymore, also not a fixed character.
Of course, they have feelings and a special way to act, but in the end they all wear their masks.
Masks, that stick on their faces, no matter if they want or not.
Masks, they cannot take off if they want to.
Masks, that they can put on the nightstand only if it's already late.
Well, that's how it is for me. I have to play a clown for all the fools around me, somehow try to survive all the paperwork and still be nice to my only magical friends. Yes, yes, that's life.
The life of the respected Arthur Kirkland, or England or United Kingdom.
But I have to admit, there was a time when I really had an identity. At that time I was nice, lovingly and polite, without forcing myself to, untill that idiot Alfred F. Jones or America thought he could get by without me.
Of course, he wasn't the only colony that left me but… I don't know… Somehow he was more important to me than the others, I all the years I tried to forget it, live on, but therefore I'd have to be alone. The frog annoyed me with that, Matthew left me too and Alfred?
I had to see him every goddamn day. I couldn't handle it properly.
The only time I could relax myself was at night in the bars where I drank one glass alcohol after another. What I did then was… Well, I always forgot, but I only know, it were very strange weird things, only a drunk could do at I didn't even regret it anymore.
I sat in a meeting like pretty much every week. WWII.
It would end soon, I knew and felt it, but we still had to fight. France annoyed me all the time, Russia scared everyone and China bragged about his oh so endless age. And America? He yelled around and told everyone he was the "Hero!" and so on.
"God, how I hate him…" I murmured to myself when I looked away from him. He seemed to notice it because he stopped with his nonsense. But then he sighed and continued. After the meeting I went out of the room as fast as I could.
"Hey! Arthur!" Alfred shouted "What was that just now?"
"It's United Kingdom in here." I just replied annoyed "What do you mean? What should be wrong?"
"You… You said you'd hate me!"
"…Yes. So?" I simply asked.
His eyes widen a bit and reflected it. "Uhm… are you still angry because of that?"
I winced and started to tremble a bit. Then I suddenly started laughing loudly.
"Who knows?", I said with a shrug and turned around to go, even if the still had some questions and wanted to talk. I just didn't want to.
When I arrived at home, I stared at the mirror confused. I took a deep breath when I saw these green emotionless eyes. I looked at myself for a long time.
What did just happened?
Why did I laugh?
That wasn't a normal laugh like after a joke, was it?
These questions were in my head and I looked at myself for a long time. Suddenly a bad ghost appeared behind me and I didn't hesitate to take my revolver and shot. Well, I shot his reflection in the mirror. I was quite calm and sighed.
"Ugh…" I murmured "Fucking migraines…"
Some weeks and even months went by very quickly. The war ended, Germany bowed out for a while and I was pretty sure that Japan would hate America as much as I do, after he met Little Boy and Fat Man (sounds like Alfred, right?). I still let out my anger and my troubles in the nights but gradually that wasn't enough anymore. I wanted Alfred to notice what he did to me. He drove me to insanity. He made me lunatic. I wanted to make him as crazy as I was. But when I already started to have my first fantasies about killing him, no matter if it was slashing him like Jack the Ripper or poisoning him like George Chapman, I started to be scared. Day by day I went crazier and more bad ghosts appeared and I slowly noticed that they weren't the ones my brother sends me every year as an early Christmas present.
I felt how the emptiness inside of me was filled with more anger, hate and detestation.
I started drinking in the daytime. Of course, I would be drunk at the meetings but I didn't care. The meetings weren't special anyway, right?
"England… Did you drink?" France asked me once "I know that you're an alcoholic, mon cher, but-"
"Shut the fuck up, frog…" I just said without looking at him"You don't know anything…"
He wanted to say something but he knew that it wouldn't be to no avail so he didn't open his mouth.
"Guys! Be quiet! The hero is speaking!" Alfred grinned widely and wanted to continue talking until I got up, tried to walk to him and looked at him disgusted.
"You? A hero? Don't make me laugh! A hero is someone who helps others, is there for others and comforts others! He would never do something to anyone. But you? You're just… just a lousy asshole without a brain or balls and fucking hell! I hate you! I hate you more than everything else!"
My yelling made him congeal, just like the others.
"Mon dieu, that was a bit harsh, wasn't it…?" I heard the Frenchman muttering.
I needed a moment to realize with my drunk brain what I have said. Then I just sighed and went outside.
"I… have to go to the toilet…" I simply said.
In the evening I went to my favourite bar and drank the same thing like always: Rum with something.I murmured some curses, gibberish and got up. I couldn't drive so I tried to come home while I tried not to fall down.
"Arthur? Arthur!" a familiar voice behind me called. My ears, which were dazed from the loud bar-music and the silence in the streets, didn't understand much of that what he said afterwards. I slowly turned around.
Blue eyes, blond hair and glasses. These were the first things I saw immediately.
"No… I have my peace at nights…" I murmured and started to tremble.
"Arthur, it's been a long time!" I understood him saying
"You drank, didn't you? Haha!"
Instantly, without even thinking, I took out my gun and shot. It went through his head, which was pretty much just luck, and I suddenly felt a great relief.
I woke up the next morning without remembering last night and went to my kitchen with horrible headache to make breakfast. Like every morning. The television was on and I heard the newsreader talking. Politic, weather, sport… Apparently there were some extra news about a man who was shot dead named Jonathan Smith. I just sighed a bit sad because it was a good friend in the war but in the end I got used to the fact that humans die as I continue living as a country. I looked at the screen for a moment and winced when I saw the place where the policemen took photos and whatever they have to do. Suddenly I remembered everything in that moment.
Jonathan did look like Alfred but how could I mix them up?
How could I even shoot without thinking?
I let the cup of tee fall down on the ground, ignored the splinter and went to bed to slip under the covers to detest myself.
Some hours later I went to a meeting, even if I was quite late, and everyone was there this time. America talked around like always and I was deep in thought of my good friend. Quite suddenly Alfred hit my head with his stack of paper and pouted.
"England! Wake up! I just had a really cool idea for the climate change! You didn't listen, huh?"
I blinked and looked up to him.
"Uhm… Is… something?" he asked a bit scared because he surely thought I would start yelling at him again.
"…Yes…" I said and smiled "You know, America, I actually always wanted to tell you something. From Arthur to Alfred at that. I raised you for a long time as my own little brother until you were almost an adult. Withal I gave you much freedom. But you've been never thankful. Neither for the free space nor for the toy soldiers I gave you when you were a child. You never said 'Thanks'. And now, so many years after you left me on that rainy day, I still wonder… 'Why wasn't I able to shoot this fool?'. I often think how it would be, if we two were brothers again, but also how I could hurt you best. But… Now, after long thinking I know exactly what I wanted to tell you for all the years…"
I took a deep breath and still smiled friendlier than ever.
"With all due respect, Alfred F. Jones… I only have one thing to say to you…
…
Die."
Sorry for all the mistakes I made, english isn't my first language.
But still, I hope you liked it!