The massive jump in suicides meant something horrific happened. The president got the raw data yesterday, and considering that they had started a week ago, it meant that it was going to be drastic; the cause and the amount of dead. He had no idea how to approach this with Mr Jones, considering that it was obviously a sensitive topic, and that he might shut down completely, so he was relieved when Jones came to him. That relief quickly vanished when he saw how timid Alfred was, how his small voice seemed scared. The normally large and boisterous late teen on the edge of manhood was pale and sweaty, and as he sat down in front of the desk, his face down and was twiddling his thumbs... He looked like a small, ashamed child scared of punishment.
"So, Alfred... what brings you here?"
Alfred seemed more nervous, but otherwise like he hadn't heard. His shoulders kept rolling up and down, but after a few minutes he stopped. "How can you tell if you did something bad?"
If you started a war, I would know. But nothing happened in the news. If you fought in horrific wars, then what happened?... "If you hurt someone, that's bad. You're a wonderful man, so you didn't-"
"Please stop complementing me. What if they get so mad that they do something that feels even worse to you? It probably wouldn't justify their anger, but if they always called you impulsive and irresponsible, and they always were kind and patient and loving... Why did I have to be impulsive with the economy? If I wasn't impulsive, if I hadn't done anything, then..."
"How we handled the economy didn't justify what they did to you. It's the global economy, and while you're the leader, they can't blame everything on you. If they hurt you that badly, then they're not your friends."
"... Ok. But they were my friends before, or at least they acted like it. Maybe they just didn't know that it would affect me that bad. I mean, even I'm surprised at how badly I'm taking this. I'm like a whiny, over dramatic idiot who can't stop talking or thinking about it. I experience it every night in my dreams, stuff that reminds me about it makes me feel sick, and most of all like I died. I feel frustrated and angry, but it's as if it's being thought by someone else. Like I'm in a play, and my role is Alfred. This isn't happening to me, this is happening to Alfred. This world isn't real, it's just a horrific fantasy. I feel like I'm in a dream and I can't wake up."
"... Okay. They definitely went over the line. I don't know what happened-"
"I got raped."
"... ... ... What?"
"I got raped." Alfred was staring at him now, his eyes tearing a hole into his mind. He couldn't think. By the time he came to, Alfred left and he saw a note on his desk.
Dear Mr President,
Yes, I got raped. I haven't been keeping track of time, but it happened at the last meeting I had. It was with the G8 minus Canada, but with Prussia and China. It happened on the day you asked me what was going on. I don't have swine flu like you thought, but I do feel really sick. I even get nosebleeds a lot, and it's taking me longer to heal. A little bit ago I fell out of a one or two story window, and I had to spend a whole day at the hospital. Maybe I'm dying, or I've sorta lost the will to live. I feel alone. Lithuania convinced me to take them to court because they could do it again to me or someone else. I'm still sure that Europe will congratulate them on setting me straight, and sometimes that makes me feel depressed. Other times I want to skin them alive and light them on fire. I shouldn't like bastards people who think like that. I'm sorry for causing you a lot of stress and trouble.
By who ever was in your office just now. Am I Alfred or America or no one. I don't know.
He was surprised that he didn't scream. He still fainted though.
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