Pasts of the Nations

by SilverWritesThings

Where did the nations come from? Were they simply hatched from the ground? Did they come into existence through a magic process? Or were they once humans, sent to be nations as a way of purgatory for a premature death? This is the past of the Nations, from the time when they weren't Nations, but Humans. [Final chapter 7yrs later is 60% of the wordcount :) I was 13 when I started]

2. America

Chapter Two: America

Alfred frowned as he looked in the mirror, examining himself closely. His stomach protruded so far. So very very far. He wouldn't eat tonight. No. Eating would end in more of this accursed weight gain. He couldn't eat. If he ate, the fat would stick out so much more. So much more...

If he was too fat, he'd never get a girlfriend. He'd be sad, alone. Which would lead to depression, which lead to sickness, which would lead to death. No. He couldn't eat... Unless he wanted to die sad, alone, fat, by himself, he mustn't eat. These were the rules society imposed on him; these were the rules he would follow. But perhaps just one cracker would be okay...?

Alfred nibbled on the saltine crackers that he found in the cabinet. All of a sudden, he felt sick. He had broken the rule. The rule he had set for himself. Rushing towards the bathroom, Alfred hunched over the toilet. Semi-digested crackers and stomach fluids fell into the water below as the American hurled. At the sight and smell, the muscles around his stomach contracted once more, spewing what little he had eaten into the toilet. Pale, sweaty, and panting, Alfred pulled himself up, off of the rim of the toilet that had been digging painfully into his neck. He slumped against the side of the bathtub, all energy spent. He felt so tired... Maybe he was sick...

A nap sounded good. Just a short nap. Maybe he'd feel better when he woke up. Yeah... This headache would be gone when he woke up. He'd be able to stand when he woke up. Everything would be fine when he woke up. Just a short nap... Alfred let his head drop against the cold surface of the tub. It was smooth, cold, soothing. His eyes fluttered shut gently. Never to open again.

Monday afternoon, two days after Alfred's passing, his parents came home. The funeral was held, the teenage body was buried. No one questioned what had happened, chalking it all up to a twisted type of suicide, even if that wasn't what happened at all.

America/Alfred: A regular teenager, died of Anorexia Nervosa.
This explains his love of fatty foods.

((Short A/N: I'm sorry if I got this chapter wrong, I was going off what I learned from Wikipedia and a medical website for eating disorders.))