OK! Now for the first only completely serious chapter so far. Pay attention, lots of foreshadowing. (^_^) 3 3 3 3 3

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Can

You SNAPPED

See CANADA

Me

NOW?

((Allies))

I stood awake, rain slamming down on me, carelessly dripping down my face and fingers, onto the cold, hard ground. I took a deep breath and held it until I felt calm enough to let it go. I let my gaze travel upward and settled on the single star between the masses of crying clouds. It would disappear soon, and I didn't know if I was sad about that or not. I closed my eyes slowly and didn't care where I was. I imagined that the rain running down my skin could somehow purify me and wash away my doubts and sins. As if.

"Such a shame," I heard a voice behind me. I knew it, not well, but I knew it. "You could be so strong, Canada…" He trailed, voice lightening.

"Shut up. I don't want to change," I snapped back fiercely, uncaring about how unlike me that was. "I don't need you, either."

Russia stood beside me and put his hand on my shoulder, which I shook off. "Listen, I can help you. The snapping part is the hardest—that's when you can't control yourself. But I can help you. I can get you past that, to where you're just like me. Snapped, but controlled." He had a friendly smile, but his eyes gave nothing away. They were almost like a psychopath's.

"Russia," I said, my voice rather assertive. "I'm not going to go insane! I won't!" I felt my cheeks flush with anger at the mere thought of Russia and me becoming one nation. Of him thinking I'll go crazy. Of him being so persistent. Of him. Of me. I had to clench both my teeth and my fists to keep from hooking the Russian right in his jaw. I looked down at my feet for something, anything, to distract me. To not prove that he was right.

"You say that, but I've seen it happen before."

"What? With who?"

"Kolkolkol. Simple. Me, France, England…"

"F-France a-and Iggy?" I raised an eyebrow, my mind's cranks trying to process what Russia had said. Both of them were very calm—except the feuds they had with each other—and I couldn't imagine either of them how Russia insisted. But, nonetheless, the next picture in my mind truly horrified me: England laughing maniacally, blood painting his hands and face, holding a bloody gun in one hand and a rag in the other. Behind him was France, a knife sticking through his right shoulder. He was also covered in blood.

"Ah, Canada? You here?" Russia waved a gloved hand in front of my face and I quickly shook all thoughts from my head. "Are you picturing them how you think?" I nodded. "Da. I see. But that isn't the only type of 'snapping', Canada. France snapped a long time ago, but he's worked on that and gotten better. So much that you only see glimpses of it when the moon is blue. His kind of snapping is different… and you're too young to understand. So I move on to England, da?" I shuddered and tried to un-think any gory thoughts and replace them with England. "Our England went demon on us. Lucky you, he recovered before you were raised by him. Right? Right." Russia explained then how he was cursing everyone and they all came true, then he went around sending everyone to hell. He made minions of all the countries and killed many. "That's most likely going to be you, you'll be a killer," is what he told me. I denied it, of course. But the thought trailed in the back of my mind.

When Russia was done, I didn't wait for him to comfort me or anything, mostly because he probably wasn't going to anyway, but I just needed to get away and unclutter my mind. I was going to do that? No. No way!

I ran to the forest and sat down behind a large willow. That's when a thousand questions popped desperately into my head, looking for answers that I would never have.

Who am I really?

What can I do to stop myself?

Will I really be a killer?

Why am I changing?

Why am I trying to stop myself?

Why am I here?

Why am I even thinking about this?

Why am I asking myself this?

Why do I not have the answers?

Why…

Why…

Why…

The rain was falling even harder than before when I opened my eyes. It was dark out and cold, and, if my eyes weren't deceiving me, snow was falling. I was still lying on the ground against the willow, and I had a beautiful red maple leaf in my hand. When did it get there?

"How—how long have I been here alone?" I asked myself, with no answer. When I fell asleep it was about… wait. I didn't remember falling asleep. "No one realized I was gone?" I felt talking to myself was better to calm myself. "Of course not, because I'm invisible…" My voice was quiet once again and I felt clean once again.

I stood up abruptly when I heard a shuffling sound. No wind was blowing, so it couldn't be leaves alone. I turned around and glared past the tree trunk, watching.

"Show yourself!" I shouted, but my voice was weak and silent like it was before. "P-please, show yourself." Where was all my confidence from before?

"Canada, don't fret." I felt breath down my neck and shivers up my spine. "It's just me, so don't worry." But I didn't recognize the voice. "It's me, it's me, it's me…" A firm hand pulled me away from the tree and threw me roughly back on the ground. When I looked up, no one was there.

"Who are you?"

"I'm me, and you're you."

"No kidding, I didn't know that." Sarcasm dripped in my voice. Relief flooded my veins at the fact that I could still put up somewhat of a fight. "Now tell me who you really are."

A strange, hollow laugh rang in my ears. "Well, to put it more simply, I'm you."

"What? But I thought you said I'm me!"

"You are. And I'm me. And I'm you. But you're not me."

Now I was confused. "W-What are you going on about now?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, but I don't understand!" I swung my head around, trying to locate who was talking. No one, not even a shadow, was in the forest; only me. I stood up again, just to be knocked down by something ramming into my side. I cringed in pain but quickly recovered and tried to stand yet again with the same result. I gritted my teeth.

"Stay," the voice murmured. "Stay with me, and I'll take over your role, deal?"

I felt as though I was lifeless, just a body, and I couldn't move a muscle. "No, never."

"Trust me, Canada, and you won't regret it."

I almost gave in, for the voice was soothing and reassuring. But no, I couldn't! People would miss me, right? Or… "Give me one reason why."

"I'll relieve your stresses. People will remember you. You'll be stronger."

They would remember me? I reached my hand out slowly to the moon above me, and in my palm several snowflakes fell, only to melt. "They'd remember me." I repeated, "They'd remember me. They'd remember me."

"Yes."

"M-maybe… you c-could… for a l-little b-bit… take… o-over…?" I closed my eyes gently. I felt something, a hand, maybe, and lift me off the ground. I opened my eyes to see—me. "Wait! You're… you're me?"

"I told you." I heard the voice but my reflection's lips didn't move. "I told you I was you, but you are not me."

"Why? How come? How does that make any sense?"

"Canada, listen. Just say these words and it will all become clear. 'Watashi wa jibun jishin o akirameru.' Got it?"

"What… what does it mean, first?" I wasn't about to agree to something I'd be sorry for doing.

"It doesn't matter. Just say it!" His voice was so unlike mine. It was poisoned with hate and impatience. "Otherwise I'll keep you here forever!" He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. "Sorry, I'm calm now. But, in case you haven't realized, you aren't in your world right now. You're in mine."

I looked at him, at me, and tilted my head. I didn't say anything. I just let it sink in.

"Yes, you are in my world. It's just like yours, except you don't control what you do, only your decisions. You could say this is a dream world, but in your world, your dreams, it isn't this… scary." A foxlike smirk was the last painless memory of that world I had. The next thing that happened sent me about ten yards away. The other me pulled me to my feet and kicked me hard in the chest. I couldn't breathe for about five seconds, and even then the punishment didn't stop.

The other me (I shall call him Matthieu), reached in his bag, which I hadn't realized he had been carrying. He pulled out a ten-inch knife, its blade obviously recently sharpened. My eyes widened in shock and fear, wondering what he would do with it. Matthieu started to approach me, his eyes unreadable.

"Say it! Say that you give yourself up! Say it!" He started cackling strangely, and all I could do was watch. He was right; I had no control over my body here, just what I said. "Say the words!"

"N-no, n-never…" I muttered, all of my self-confidence down the drain, washed away with the night.

Before I knew it, my clone swung the knife and I had a large gash on my cheek. I flinched as the pain took over my emotions. I screamed, but that was met with another swing and another cut, this time on my jugular. I choked and writhed to no purpose, I was losing too much blood, and I was about to die, anyway. I could no longer breathe. Matthieu lurched his hand forward, and the knife lodged itself into my chest, it sunk quickly and painfully.

My last thoughts were, Is this what hell is?