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America by Ion35

x-Pasta-Chan-x by Retrubutionist777

america by dudea1

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Submitted on
November 30, 2012
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You were in a depression. A very terrible one. Your economy was crippled, you were nearly broke, and you were constantly surrounded by so many terrible emotions that you felt like sooner or later, you were going to go insane. You didn't even know what you had done to cause such a large amount of misery for yourself. You always tried hard to make sure your country's economy was in stable condition, and you always tried to be as organized as possible to prevent confusion and prevent any kind of disaster, but nevertheless, it didn't matter.

Even though your country's bad state wasn't your fault, your boss acted like it was. He was yelling at you constantly, telling you how to improve, giving you large amounts of work as if when you would've done them, they would've rid you from your depression. But all they did was make your situation even worse. You had never felt so sick, so full of despair, so desperate for help than you were right now. You barely felt healthy enough to step out of your house, which you thought you were going to lose sooner or later. You just didn't know what to do.

One terrible, miserable rainy day, you sat on the couch in your living room, eating a bowl of warm soup. Your head was hurting and your whole body was shaking, your (e/c) eyes were dull, your face was pale, and several strands of your (h/c) hair were sticking out in all directions, but you didn't care. Paperwork was scattered all over the couch you were sitting on, the coffee table in front of you, and part of the living room floor, but you didn't care. Your whole house seemed to be getting more and more disorganized with each passing day. Your boss seemed to be giving you so much paperwork each day that you felt like it would've taken you your whole life just to complete it. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get out of the depression you were in.

Once you finished the soup, you placed the empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you before you sighed and closed your eyes. You felt so awful. Your stomach was turning, you were awfully weak, you felt sicker than you ever felt were dealing with your depression all alone, and you needed help immediately.

You were barely getting any sleep because each night you made a vain attempt to at least organize some of your paperwork. But almost every time, you had failed. Feeling sleep slowly overtake you, you decided to think back to the last meeting you had attended a month ago.


You sighed as you gathered your papers together and closed your eyes in exhaustion. The meeting was finally over, but although it only lasted for a few hours, it seemed to have lasted forever. It didn't help that you weren't feeling very well today, either. Your boss had warned you that if you didn't adopt a new, temporary lifestyle as soon as possible, you and your country might face the worst depression you would ever experience. You tried changing your life a little, but as far as you new, it didn't seem to be helping. You hoped that your life wasn't going to downfall any more than it already had.

Once you felt that most of the countries who were previously in the room had left, you rested your head in your arms and slowly opened your eyes, staring at the neatly stacked papers in front of you. You didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so you figured that maybe a quick nap might've given you the energy needed to get back home.

Just as you closed your eyes and were about to fall asleep, you felt something poke you in the shoulder seconds before you heard a voice.

" alright?"

At that instant, you lifted your head from your arms and turned around in your seat so that you were looking up and staring directly into the eyes of America, who was looking down at you with a tiny, slightly concerned smile on his face.

Instantly, you felt a light blush come to your cheeks as you continued to keep your surprised gaze locked with his, suddenly losing the ability to speak. You had seriously thought that you had been the only one left in that room, and suddenly you were thankful that you hadn't fallen asleep when he would've been there to watch.

A few seconds passed as your gaze continued to burn into America's, and after a few more moments went by in silence, he let out a tiny chuckle before he slightly tilted his head to one side. "Seriously, _____, are you okay?"

Finally, you were able to find your voice, and you let out a tiny "oh" before you brought your hand to your mouth and cleared your throat, dropping your gaze down to the ground. "I-I'm fine...just fine. What makes you think there's something wrong?"

"Well, you've been looking kinda tired lately, so I wanna know if I can help you with anything..." America said a bit uncertainly before he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

At that, you lifted your head so that you were looking back up at him as you felt a bit of worry begin to grow inside you. Were people really starting to notice your deteriorating condition? You sighed before you turned back around and stood up from your seat, gathering your papers together in one hand before you turned around to face America and gave him an exhausted smile.

"I'm fine...mostly...." you said a bit unsurely as you drifted your gaze down to your papers, your face still a bit red. "But I haven't been feeling really good lately. My boss warned me that if I don't do something about my life, me and my country might go into a terrible depression."

"Oh...sorry to hear that..." America said after a few moments of silence.

"I-It's fine...." you said softly as you continued to stare down at your papers, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. A few more seconds passed with you keeping your eyes locked with your papers and Americas gaze wandering off to literally every part of the room except you. finally, he reached out a hand and gently but firmly placed it on your shoulder, causing your eyes to widen, your body to stiffen in shock, and the blush on your face to become greater.

You snatched your gaze away from your papers and looked up to meet America's. you felt your heart pound in your chest when you saw him staring back at you seriously, and a bit protectively. "A-America...what...." you began, but was interrupted when he began to speak.

"_____, if you're ever in trouble, just know that I'll always be there to help you out, okay?"  America said, a bit of determination in his voice as he continued to stare at you.

A few moments passed in silence as you continued to stare up at him with wide, surprised eyes. America rarely told you anything like this, and the thought of having him protect you made your body prickle with excitement. The truth, although you didn't want to admit it to anyone, even your closest friend, was that you've had a crush on him for a very long period of time, although you tried to keep it hidden from everyone as much as possible. You always found it easy to have conversations with him and talk to him about things that were ever a concern to you, he seemed to be the person you were able to get along with the most out of everyone else, and just having him smile at you always made your day a whole lot better. Even though he never told you directly until now, you could've trusted him to protect you and help you whenever you were in a tight situation. Still, you couldn't have helped what you said next.

"America, really..." you said quietly. "I'm fine, seriously. You don't need to help me with anything...."

America rolled his eyes and grinned. "Of course I do, 'cause I'm the hero!" he said enthusiastically before he let out a laugh, making you chuckle and roll your eyes before you shook your head in amusement. His optimistic personality was just one of the many things you liked about him.

"Well..." you murmured after a while as you dropped your gaze down to the ground, "I just don't want you to be influenced because of me. I don't want you to go out of your way just so you can help me when really, I'm—"

"No, _____," America said firmly, making you lift your head to meet his gaze once again confusingly. "I'm going to help you and protect you because I want to. I know you're your life is probably way harder than mine is, and I don't want you to feel like you're dealing with all this stuff by yourself. If going out of my way to help you means that you won't have to deal with any of this depression, I don't really mind at all."

A few seconds of silence passed as you continued to look up at America surprisingly before a tiny, slightly uncertain smile came to your face. "Okay..." you said after a while. "But do you promise that you'll be there for me whenever I need your help? I'm a bit unsure about becoming too dependent on people..."

"Of course I promise!" America said confidently as he happily patted your shoulder. "That's what heroes are for, right?"

You chuckled before you once again dropped your gaze down to your papers, the smile on your face widening by just the tiniest amount. "Of course," you said. "Thank you, America."


You opened your eyes again, feeling some of your strength slowly return. Gazing wearily up at your clock, you realized that you had fallen asleep and stayed that way for about an hour. It was almost the evening, and you seriously thought about going to bed soon. But you still had so much more paperwork to fill out and you were still feeling so sick and depressed and disorganized that you had no idea how you were even going to be able to get three hours of sleep.

A sudden thought entering your mind was what made you freeze in place.


Of course, he had promised you that he would've been there to help you if you were ever in need of it. And now, you needed help more than ever.

Slowly, weakly, you leaned forward and extended a feeble, trembling hand towards the phone that lay on your coffee table. Even though it wasn't really that far away from you, it seemed like it was miles away. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were able to grasp it as tightly as your frail fingers allowed you, and you let out an exhausted sigh as you leaned back against the couch, holding the phone tightly in both hands.

You squinted, trying to get your blurry gaze to focus on the numbers on the phone. But just doing so made your mead hurt even more than it already did, and you had to take a minute's rest before you tried refocusing your gaze again. Once you were finally able to clearly see the numbers on the phone, you slowly, shakily punched in America's number before you pressed the earpiece to your ear, your arm trembling in exhaustion.

You listened, your heart beating rapidly as you heard the few, steady beeps that rang in your ear. Please, please, please pick repeated in your head. If America didn't come to you as soon as possible, you didn't know what you were going to do.

You felt your hope disappear when you heard his answering machine through the phone. You let out a sigh before you began to speak. "America...i-it's _____," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "It turns out that my boss was right about that depression I might've had, because now....I-I'm in a really bad one, a-and I don't know what I'm going to do. D-Do you think that...maybe you could come over and help me sort things out? I don't know how I'm going to feel better if I don't have anyone here to help me deal with this thing, a-and I trust you. Please come as soon as possible, because...I-I really need you...."

That was the last thing you said before you hung up, hoping over and over that America would've came to your aid as soon as possible.


He never came.

Day after day you waited, hoping that America would've arrived and helped you with your depression. Day after day you waited for you to hear a knock at the door and for you to go up and open it and to find America standing there, coming to help you, to help you feel better, to help you get rid of your depression. But after a week had passed and he hadn't even replied to your message, the depression that once took over your body was replaced by anger.

You became so angry that you felt new energy pulse inside you, and it gave you the energy to finish your paperwork, to organize your house, to punch a wall, to clean up any food that was scattered around your house, to go outside for a while, to punch another wall, to finally have enough time to get a good amount of sleep, to return any missed phone calls, and to punch another wall twice.

Two weeks had passed since you sent America the message. Now it was almost 10 pm, and it was raining. You sat at your couch, staring blankly at the TV, your hands clenched into fists as several thoughts ran through your head.

America said he always would've been there for you whenever you needed help. He had promised. The fact that he had promised his support made you even more furious. You had always trusted him to help you with anything, and now when you had needed his help the most, he had ignored it. And where had he been? Wasn't he at home most of the time anyway? Why hadn't he ever gotten your message? And if he did, why didn't he show up at your house? To help you, like he had promised?

And the thought that you had trusted America made you even more upset than the tiny part of you that already was. You had always trusted him to help you out with anything, and you had trusted him to help you with your depression. He promised that he would've helped you because he didn't want you to fall into a depression, and when you actually did, he didn't come to help. And that tiny thought made whatever trust you had left in him instantly vanish.

You continued to sit there, blankly staring at your reflection in the TV, all the anger still trapped inside your body, just waiting to be released.

But you weren't going to release it just yet.

Almost half an hour later, you heard a knock at the door, but through the heavy pounding of the rain, you ignored it and continued to blankly stare at the TV. The knock came again a few seconds later, but you made no action to go up to the front door and open it.

But a few more minutes later, you heard the sound of the door opening, and that was when you realized that through your depression, you never even bothered to close it. Now you realized that you had kept it open in case America would've come, so you wouldn't have had to spend what little amount of energy you had just getting up and walking toward the door and opening it.

A few seconds after the door opened and you still kept your gaze fixed on the TV, you heard feet take a few steps into your house before you heard a worried voice.

"Oh god, _____, are you okay?"

A few seconds passed before you replied. "You're late," you murmured quietly as you continued to stare blankly in front of you.

"I-I know..." America said uncomfortably as he continued to stand in the doorway before he began to rub the back of his neck with his hand.

"Where were you?" you asked softly. "You promised that you would've helped me...."

"I know," America said again, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. "But, like, see, I had some other plans and I was busy."

"Other plans?" you asked flatly, keeping your gaze locked on the TV as you continued to sit in your place on the couch, not daring to move even the slightest amount. "What other plans?"

"Well, like, I had some friends come over to stay for a while," America said, the uncertainty disappearing from his voice and being replaced with enthusiasm. "And we went to all these totally awesome places and we got to take a whole bunch of pictures!" He stuffed one hand in his pocket and began to pull out his phone. "Wanna see some of them?"

"No..." you murmured quietly, causing America to put his phone back in his pocket and look at you confusingly. After a few long moments of silence passed, you began to speak again. "So, spent these past two weeks just hanging out with your friends like you didn't have a care in the world while I was trapped in my house facing a depression where I was barely able to get up?"

"W-Well, yeah...." America said a bit nervously.

"And even though you had your phone with you and had apparently gotten my message and knew that I needed your help, you still continued to just pretend that everything was alright and risk breaking your promise, which you already did?" you continued as you kept your body still and kept your gaze locked on the TV.

"Uh...I...." A few seconds passed before America realized that he had no way to reply as he continued to stand in the doorway, shifting in place uncomfortably.

Finally, after a couple of minutes had gone by with you sitting there staring blankly at the TV and America standing nervously in the doorway, you slowly stood up from your place on the couch and turned your head so that you were able to meet his gaze. Once you did, America shrunk back a little in worry so that his back was almost pressed against the wall.

You felt your hands clench into fists, the anger inside you only getting greater as you slowly began to walk forward, pausing so that you were only standing a few feet away from him.

"_____," America began uncertainly as your blank gaze continued to burn into his. "I—"

"Shut up!" you yelled fiercely, causing him to jump in surprise at your sudden rage. "How on earth could you possibly think that it was okay for you to just hang out with your friends while you knew that I was in a depression?" you yelled, feeling all the anger that was previously trapped inside you pump out of your body and through your words. "You had promised me that you would've been there to help me, and I made the mistake of trusting you! I actually believed that a person like you would've lived up to his promises and actually helped me when I needed it, but I was wrong!"

A few seconds passed as you continued to stand there, staring at America with such a look of anger that you were barely able to describe while he stared at you in shock, regret, and a bit of fear. "_____," he began softly. "I can explain...."

"No!" you yelled as you pointed a finger at him. "How could you possibly have an explanation for leaving me here by myself to deal with my depression when you knew that you could've come to help me?  How could you possibly break your promise and my trust in you and think that you could actually get away with it? How could you possibly call yourself a hero when you still left me to deal with the worst depression in my life instead of coming to help me like you said? I can't believe that I ever had trust in you. I can't believe that I was actually stupid enough to believe that you were going to help me when I needed it, because apparently when I became dependent on you, you just go out of your way to ignore all my troubles and just do what you want to!"

"...I never said—"

"Quiet!" you interrupted harshly. A few moments passed as you continued to stand there, your hands clenched into fists and dropped down to your sides, taking deep breaths as you stared at America with what seemed like all the hatred in the world. Finally, you spoke once again. "I hate you," you growled as you kept your gaze locked with America's. "I hate everything about you. I can't believe that I was actually stupid enough to think that you actually would've come to my aid when I needed you the most. Well, it turns out that I was wrong."

You raised an arm and pointed your finger towards the front door, which was still open, as you continued to stare at America. "Get out," you said quietly but fiercely. "I don't even want to look at your face anymore."

"_____," America began a bit pleadingly. "Please, don't—"

"Get out!" you yelled so violently that you were practically able to feel the walls shake.

A few seconds passed as America continued to stare at you, guilt and sadness visible across his face. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh before he dropped his gaze down to the ground and slowly walked through the doorway and stepped outside in the rain.

As you approached the door and grasped the knob, America turned around to face you once more, looking at you pleadingly. "_____," he said softly as you continued to fiercely stare at him. "I just want you to know that I'm so sorry for everythi—"

But he never got the chance to finish before you loudly slammed the door shut, too angry to even hear America's voice anymore.


What have I done? America thought miserably as he drove home, not caring if the forceful pounding of the rain made it hard for him to see the road. The answer was that he didn't do anything. And that was exactly the reason why you had yelled at him and kicked him out of your house. At first, he didn't feel that ignoring your call for help was such a big deal and he had just shrugged it off, but now he realized that it had been a terrible thing to do. How could a hero like him possibly have left you to deal with your depression on your own without getting any help even though you desperately needed it?

America sighed desolately as he continued to drive, feeling guilt spread through his entire body. He hated to see you so angry because of him. He hated to see you in such a terrible depression. He wished he could've answered your call earlier and not have had you yell at him because he had been so ignorant and selfish. He wished he had convinced himself that going out and taking some of his time to help you and keeping your trust was far, far more important that spending time with friends and losing it.

If only you knew how much he really cared about you. The main reason that America said he wanted to protect you was so that he would've been able to prove to you how much you meant to him. You had been his close friend for as long as he remembered, and you seemed to be the only person he never got into arguments with and never yelled at him.

Well, until now.

Now America wished more than anything that he could've gone back in time and prevented himself from ignoring your depression. Losing your friendship and your trust was like losing a part of him, and somehow, he had to reverse that.

America had to go up to you and find some way to apologize, even if it was going to take days or even months, although he really hoped that it seriously wouldn't have gotten to that.

With several thoughts running through his head, he continued to drive home, not caring about how poor the visibility out on the road was.


Almost immediately after you yelled at America and kicked him out of your house, you decided that it would've been better for you to go to sleep. You were very exhausted, and a good rest would've given you the energy needed to get through tomorrow.

In the middle of the night, you were woken up from your sleep to the sound of your phone ringing from your nightstand. You groaned as you opened your eyes and lifted your head to let your gaze focus on the digital clock. It was a little past two in the morning. Who could possibly be calling you at this hour?

Almost blindly, you reached out a hand and tightly grasped your phone before you sat up in your bed and turned it on, pressing the earpiece to your ear. "Hello?" you said, trying hard not to let your voice sound blurry.

You were able to hear the sound of someone softly crying on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" you repeated, feeling a small bit of concern begin to grow inside you.

"_-____..." a voice said quietly and shakily, but you weren't able to tell who it belonged to.

"Uh...who's there?" you asked in exhaustion.

"I-It's Canada..." the trembling voice said.

"Canada?" That name didn't ring a bell in your head at first, but once you recognized who the voice belonged to, a tiny smile came to your face. "Oh! You're America's brother, right?" Even saying America's name made you mentally cringe, but you tried not to pay attention to it.

"Y-Yes...." Canada said as he continued to sob quietly to himself, although you were able to hear it through the phone. The fact that he was crying made the concern that was in your body grow more than it already was.

"Canada," you said quietly, a bit of worry detectable in your voice. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

A few seconds passed as you heard him take slow, deep, trembling breaths through the phone as he tried to compose himself but failed. "A-America...he—" Canada was interrupted from his sentence when a new wave of sobs took over him.

"America?" you asked in confusion. "What about America?" At first, you felt a bit frustrated that Canada came to you in the middle of the night just because he wanted to talk to you about a person you no longer cared about. But if he was crying, that must've meant that something bad happened to America, and that thought made your chest tighten in unease. But if something bad happened to him and he needed your help, you certainly weren't going to come to his aid.

"America...he...." Canada paused from his crying and took a deep breath before he said in panic and fear, "America got into a car accident!"
I don't know what to write here so, um...yeah. o-o

I'm sorry I'm so bad with titles. ;w; I was originally going to call this thing "Amnesia," but I thought that too many people were gonna think of Pewdiepie, so I was like, "nah..." :T

So this is going to be my first attempt at writing a sort of suspenseful maybe story, so I hope all y'all enjoy.

Idunnocuzalotofthestoryisprobablygonnabedepressingbutwewillsee e-e

Link to the rest of the chapters are here: [link]
I do not own the preview image .-.
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YenBeilschmidt Featured By Owner Aug 3, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
That last sentence killed me. :iconamericasulkplz:
AnimeGamer1223 Featured By Owner Apr 12, 2014  Student Artist
I remember reading this a while back, and I remember almost crying.
I didn't know this was written by you. But I read your other Hetalia stories later on, and watched. I remembered this story recently, and I wanted to read it again because it was so beautiful.

I just realized you were the one who wrote this. onion sad  I wish I could just read this whenever. Like print it out.
You're such a great writer! 
Italianna Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
- looks at the picture -
Vee~~ that looks~a so sad :'c
But the story~a is manifico ^.^
Also the word ' Pasta ' in your name made it better, cuz someone with the name Pasta... its just amazing~a :)
You should make more stories like this :D
canadatheninja Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Get out," you said quietly but fiercely. "I don't even want to look at your face anymore."

"_____," America began a bit pleadingly. "Please, don't—"

"Get out!" you yelled so violently that you were practically able to feel the walls shake.

There is no fury like a woman's. XD
purpledragonflies Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Ok, at first I was worried cuz he never said "I'm the hero." That scared me for a bit. :)
Italianna Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
I know right
Lol :3
LauraNinjaOfRainbow Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
americangirl122 Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2013  Student Artist
japan out of nowhere : hory shit
japan: i do know i was reading a book then i poped up here
me: o.e
Italianna Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
- looks at Japan-San and bro fists you -
PlainlyAwesome Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
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