I sat up in bed and soon regretted it. I covered my mouth with my ands and felt it fill up with the food I just ate. It tasted gross and had tasted a bit like the macaroons France gave me. I ran out of the room to search for the nearest bathroom. Funny, I would have thought that having a really big house means they'll have a lot of bathrooms. I was wrong.

When I did find a bathroom, I barged in and threw up in the toilet. I guess with all the noise I made, it called France to me. He looked at me wordily and gently. He petted my back.

"You'll be fine…" He said. I was about to reply but I threw up again. I then felt something on my arm and a warm liquid trickling down it.

I looked at my arm and saw a scar has carved by itself on my arm. How did that happen? Scars don't just appear randomly by themselves. I then went to the sink to clean up. Once I was done, I turned back to France.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Didn't someone tell you? Whatever happens to the country or state, or whatever, the personification is of, something happens to the personification." France answered. Oh right.

I had a feeling that I knew what it was. I could hear people screaming in my head. I knew that it was a tornado.

o-o-o

Weeks later…

I think that I did something unimaginable. I never was raped by France this whole time. Sure I was…touched often. But it wasn't in a bad way…I hope…

I wonder when the next nation would pick me up. I don't think that I could last another day with the French man.

As if the people above were listening to my thoughts, a giant hole appeared under me and swallowed me up.

I closed my eyes, my stomach flipped, and soon I fell on the butt on the ground. I yelped at the force and I think that falling down a hole 100 mph would hurt me really bad. But I probably got out of that with only a bruise… on my butt. That's really going to hurt when I sit down.

"Hello chap. Sorry for the rough landing." I heard. I knew this voice. It was England.

I looked at the English dude and greeted him with a hello. I knew I should have been angrier at the landing and the fact a hole appeared under my feat…Wait! How does a hole just appear under my feet? I looked at him questionably.

"Oh, you're interested in magic chap? I'm sorry, but you have to be born with magic*! I know! Let's test this out, shall we? And after that we can sit down and eat my scones and drink tea."

What? Magic was real? I thought that it was a movie sand book thing.

"Bend this spoon!" England shoved a spoon in my hands. I stared at the spoon…he only wanted me to bend it? I shrugged mentally and grabbed both ends of the spoons and used all of my strength to bend then spoon. I then handed it back to Britain.

"Bloody hell! You're strong! I meant use magic to bed the spoon not just your muscles. Bloody hell! That git, America, really is strong seeing how you are."

I laughed. This was the first time that I have been complimented on how strong I was; having a slight build.

"Now that's over! Shall we munch on some scones, biscuits, and drink tea?"

"No!" I quickly said. People warned me about his cooking. It could kill you with food poisoning!

"Come on! It won't hurt you!"