{In Canada's POV}
Of course, when I went home, and it was dead silent. I was always alone after meetings, America was busy doing his usual self loathing, Italy was probably drinking and crying again. I had different self destructive coping methods. I would smashed things, destroyed them, made sure anything my hands touched would never work the way it was supposed to again.
I was feeling especially destructive, and trashed the kitchen, and my own room... And every other room in my home. I sat on my ruined floor, panting with a feeling of unmatched rage. I narrowed my eyes at the ground and screamed, and screamed. "WHY CAN'T THEY NOTICE ME? I'M RIGHT HERE PAPA! I'M RIGHT HERE ENGLAND! I'M RIGHT HERE DAMMIT!" I yelled, and screamed until my throat went dry, and then, I cried and began to clean and fix the house. I was so tired. Often I was confused with my brother, and they sometimes hurt me. But, they call me things which they normally call Alfred. I just can't bring myself to tell him about this. He'll be even more broken knowing they take out their true feelings out on me like this.
I then immediately went for my maple syrup cabinets soon after, and made myself some Kraft Dinner. As I ate in utter silence, a sigh escaped my lips. I stood and decided to call up my brother, who perhaps was done self loathing, and logging with his audio tape recording-thing.
"Hey Alfred?"
"...yeah bro?" He seemed tired, just like me.
"Wanna come over? It's been a long day, and we both need to relax."
Silence echoed over the receiver for a few seconds before Alfred responded.
"Sure, I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up on me after.
I sat by himself for about half an hour, when finally I saw Alfred walking to the front door. There were two problems with this. One, Alfred usually didn't walk anywhere, unless he was nearby. Two, he lived seven blocks away, which was pretty far. How did he get here in just 30 minutes?
"Mattie, I'm here." He said, knocking on the door.
Confused, I opened the door for him, and he was not looking so great. "Alfred? Are you ok?" I was concerned, he hadn't been holding up so well lately.
"...I'm good. Started taking pills. They make me happy." He had this loopy grin on his face, then I realized; He was high of his ass. No wonder he got here so fast! "Alfred, give me the bottle with your pills." Surprisingly, he did hand me a bottle filled with different types of pills. "I need you to stop taking these! What if you overdose?" Of course, I was going to scold him! Who wouldn't when you find out that your younger brother is taking drugs?
"I don't want to...they make me happy. And they make sure I can't hear the other's insults during meetings." Wait. He was taking these during meetings? This made a lot of sense. His ideas mainly came from anxiety, but now that drugs were in the equation, it made much more sense. "Just stay here for the night. We're both lonely, so it's best if you get off that high of yours." I just sighed, and shook my head slowly.
I decided to reheat the Kraft Dinner I had made, and gave him a bowl. Alfred ate it slowly, and seemed just as tired an done as I had. "The guest room is upstairs to the right. I'm going to head to bed alright? Don't try to take your pills back." I walked upstairs, and collapsed on my bed.
I sighed as I felt sleep slowly take over me. Sometimes, you need to wonder to yourself. When are you going snap, or shatter...but into what exactly? What would you snap into?
