I feel so worthless right now. I can't move and I'm stuck on America's couch. I'm just lying down, waiting for France to get here. And when he gets here, I'm probably going to feel even more worthless.

I still can't believe that I have been at America's house for three days. It doesn't make any sense. I don't remember packing to come here. I don't remember coming here. And I don't even remember anything about France coming to my house.

Bloody hell, why is America so stupid? If I came here to avoid France then why does he think it's the best idea to invite France over? Why can't I remember coming here? And since when is Frog Face an expert on me?

I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in this house. I don't want to be in this room. And I certainly don't want to be on this couch.

This couch is just way too itchy. It's making my skin itch as bad as ant bites on top of chicken pox. And the worst part about being on this itchy couch is that I can't move. I'm dying to get off this couch and scratch. Why does America keep such an itchy couch anyway?

This couch doesn't even match this room. Maybe this itchy couch holds some sort value to America, but then again, it is a couch and this is America. I've never thought of him as a passionate semimetal person who would keep things for priceless value. Whenever the newest of something came out, America would just throw away his old stuff and wait in line to get the newest thing out there. I have always laughed at him for waiting in line for over twenty-four to get the newest iPhone.

Ok, I don't care if this couch holds value or not, I just want off this stupid thing. I'm tempted to call America in here to ask him to move me. But, I don't really want too. If I did that, I would feel even more worthless then I do right now. It's pathetic that somebody has to move me, because I can't seem to move my legs. And it's pathetic that I'm letting this couch bother me so much.

I should be focusing more on what's going on with my brain. It shouldn't be possible for me to forget coming here, staying here for two days already, standing in a doorway, and certainly the reason why I came here in the first place. So, far I have no answers on how that is possible. I think this couch has something to do with that.

And there I go with the couch again. I'm letting my brain worry about some stupid couch instead of worrying about that disturbing hallucination I had or my mental health. What was the deal with that hallucination anyway?

After that hallucination I don't think that I could look at those two counties the same way again. Why did it have to be so disturbing? And why does this couch have to be so uncomfortable?

I really need to get over the fact that this couch is so itchy. But, how can I when it feels like an itchy sweater being pressed closer to my skin with sandpaper? How long have I've been stranded on this couch anyway?

I feel like I have been here for hours, but the little clock light on America's Blue Ray player says that its only noon. That means that I have only been stranded on this couch for less then fifteen minutes.

Less then fifteen minutes! Is the Blue Ray player incorrect or am I losing my ability to keep track of time. I want to assume that the Blue Ray wrong, because I have already had a hallucination and I can't move any of my muscles. Losing my instinct for keeping tract of time would only make me feel more worthless.

Why do I have to feel so worthless right now? Why can't I just move my legs and get up from this stupid couch? I have never heard of a case were the patient loses all their body movement after a hallucination.

Son of a tart! Do I really consider myself a patient now? But, I can't be a patient, I don't have a doctor. And a patient is what you call the people that see the doctor. So, who is my doctor?

Oh dear God no. I certainly hope America doesn't think that he is my doctor. He did say mention something about doctor shows and patients before he so rudely dropped me on this couch. I hope he doesn't think that he gets to play doctor, because I just had a hallucination and can't move.

But, then again he did call France. Oh, bloody hell! Having France as a doctor would be a zillion times worse then having America trying to impersonate one. I certainly hope that America didn't call France over so he can play the roll as doctor on me.

Maybe this couch is making me paranoid. If America wanted to get me a doctor he would of gotten a real doctor and he would have told me that he was getting me a doctor first. I shouldn't just assume that he's calling France over here play doctor on me.

Play doctor on me. That sounds so wrong and disgusting. Why did America have to call over France anyway? I don't care if he is some sort of claimed expert on me, I don't want him here.

Where is America anyway? It's not that I want him to be here; it's just that I want off this stupid itchy couch. I would check the clock again, but I don't want to be disappointed with the time it gives me.

Unfortunately, I find myself looking at the clock. Why isn't there a time on the clock this time? Wait, what happened to the blue ray player?

That's strange. I was just looking at it a second ago and now's its gone. What's even stranger is that everything in this room is now gone and I'm now hearing the loud clashing noises of the ocean.

A/N

I will like to take this moment to thank cookies111, for giving some awesome ideas to use in this story. And I would also like to thank my editor for editing (Wow that sounded kinda stupid. Of course editors edit!)

E/N

Wait….Editors edit? O.o OH NO!