Sup!' I'm probably writing this in school right now! But who cares! Anwho, ya'll came here to read my story and as shitty, excuse me for the younger audience shitety (british) as it is, somehow you've maneaged to read a whole chapter of this crap and move on to the next one. Yay!

Disclaimer: Nein, Niet, Nie, Non, Aniyo, Ne, No, I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers or FMA.

Also, I'm going to try to update every Sunday... Read on!

Alfred Prolougue; History Re-written

Pain, dull and throbbing, a chronic disease, steady like the ticking of a grandfathers clock. Throbbing, this sickening throbbing is all I feel, all I hate, all that I have.

I know that I am but a former shell of what I used to be. I am mearly a used out body, nothing but masks and acts, heart and soul sucked out with the rest of my intestines. Nothing is who I am. And perhaps that's how it should be, Alfred Fucking Jones, the lost hero, the usless git, the fat capitalist pig, the loud obnoxius citizen of the United States of Nothing!

I wince, cracking my grey orbs open. My grey, no-longer blue eyes, stare at the yellow splotched cieling, contemplating whether I should carry on with the plan.
What do I have to loose? I laugh, a dry cracked laugh, the hoarse cry filled with the irony of the question. Who would miss me when I leave? Who?

Japan?! I bombed the shit out of him.

Italy?! I don't even know him!

Russia... Nyet.

France? He only wanted me for my ass. Anyone with vital regions that walked was fair game to that guy.

Matthew? My sweet innocent brother. Does he love me? War of 1812, the burning of York... Of course he doesn't love me! I'm a sicko! A;

Fat.

Stupid.

Idiotic.

Unsightly.

Wothless.

Brat.

Who doesn't belong in this world. No-one would come to my funeral if I died! No-one! I bet that they wouldn't even find my body until it starts to crumble and decay into the floorboards of the house. Who would care indeed... Not even Artie cares about me. How could he? I'm just a;

Git.

Twat.

Wanker.

Bugger.

I should end it now. I need to end it now!

I hesitantly roll out of bed, flinching as the world spins around me in a macabre dance. Filling my vision with little dots of light. Walking over to my bathroom, I concentrate on my steps. Left, Worthless. Right, Insufferable. Left, why don't you just die! Right, America-san stop! Please Stop!

Right.

Left.

Right.

I come to a stop in front of the miror and take a last look at myself before the deed is done. Dull, grey eyes stare back at me, full of drowning sorry and self-loathing. When did I stop acting myself? Then again, who am I? I've lost sight of the real me a long time ago. The real me got lost within the piles of broken masks that I once wore. Perhaps I am the real me. Stripped down to the core, this is what Alfred F. Jones really looks like.

Or maybe not

My hair is limp, no-longer it's golden color. Instead, a dead limp weight of straw fibers adorned the top of my head. Texas was bent and twisted, glass smudged, and, fogging?

The world is getting blurry.

Oh, they're just tears.

I pull out the gun, a lead weight that seemed to reflect fear within it's shining black metal. Fear and, relief I suppose. Finally the world will be a better place. Finally the world can be at peace.

Holding the gun up to my head I take a breath and glace around. I see a shimmer, almost like a ghostly shadow of a form that looked suspiciously like mine. I shake my head and concentrate on the cool caress of the barrel to my temple.

In a heaving defeated voice I wisper; "Protect Artie, protect yourself, protect everyone. Be their hero when I could not. Protect them."

I thought that I shaw the shimmer shift, face morphing into an almost happy smile.

I stared at the shimmer until my muscles in my hand clenched, and my finger squeezed until all I could see was white. The world kept shrinking and shrinking until it was just a pinprick of light. Mind in a haze, my body drifted like mist into the dark depths of subconsciousness. Everything was eerily calm until I started barking out in laughter.

How funny! How rediculously lung-catching, knee-slapping, fucking hillarious!
Why was there a need to commit suicide when I wont even remember why I died in the first place!

Then my body relaxed and I fell into a sleep. The first deep sleep I felt in a while.

Sorry about the short chapters! But you know! School, and stuff keep you occupied! Oh and also, the chapters will get longer! Yay! It's just that Prologues are usually short so... Review!