The Diary of a depressed nation

December 15-17 update

[PART 100!!!! AWWWWW YIISSSSSSS!! because it's an even 100, I'm going to do this update in third person. I try to not do this very often, but it's a huge milestone for me, so I have to do something.! and this update will be a little but easier because Alfred isn't really there for part of it, and some of the parts that he's not there for that I feel are rather important for you readers to completely understand whats going on. ah ive been rambling for too long! Im so sorry! on with the story, then!]

Alfred woke in the middle of the night, startled out of yet another nightmare. It seemed that they were becoming more and more frequent recently, with varying degrees of painful memories incorporated in. He slept silently and lightly when he was uneasy about something, and now was no exception.

America stood, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and headed towards the bathroom, where his daily routine always began. When he got there, he looked at his reflection; dark, tired eyes, messy wheat colored hair, pale skin covered in red lines where his face had rested on the embroidery on the arm of the couch. In short, what he saw in the mirror disgusted him even more than the fake act that he put on every time he had to go out and speak with the other nations.

He grabbed a brush, wet it under some running water, and attempted to bring the mess under control, while whispering little reminders to himself so he hopefully didn't forget anything this time. Thankfully, luck was with him, for his hair, with the exception of the cowlick, actually fell right and neat without him having to fight with it for an hour.

After composing himself, he walked out of the bathroom and checked the alarm clock. 3:47, it read. Alfred sighed, then walked out of the room again. Surely an early morning run wouldn't hurt, right? All of the other nations knew that he was fat, so why not try and fix that?

That is America's fatal flaw: he's always very positive, and because of that, very quick to forgive. He is this way because he knows how much people need something to tarnish, if they do it willingly or not. He just wants to be the hero for everyone.

He went back to his bedroom to change into something warmer, and grabbed pair of gloves and his phone on the way out. America was careful to not disturb his brother, who was still asleep in the other room, when he left.

The air he met with was sharp and frigid. There were snowflakes drifting lazily through the air. The early morning was still and quiet. The only downside for him was that it was cold. Alfred didn't like the cold, but it wasn't enough to deter him. Quickly, he took off down the street, heading for nowhere and back.

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By the time he got back, panting and very awake, his brother had already made breakfast.

"Eat." Canada told him, knowing that if not prompted, he probably wouldn't.

"Thanks Mattie, but I got McDonald's while I was out. Good stuff, you know!" He lied easily, waving him off and heading for his bedroom to change for the second time that morning, this time into something more formal. Matthew gave a disbelieving huff before cleaning up and grabbing his bear.

"Alfred! If you wait any longer we'll be late, and I don't want to be dragged in with you when Germany starts yelling at everyone!" he called, shutting the door behind him. Alfred sighed and ran out with him, grabbing his keys and throwing his bomber jacket over his shoulder. For appearing to be so light, that old jacket was rather warm. But he also wrapped a scarf around his neck, just in case.

America tossed the keys to his brother, and they both got into the car. Matthew looked at him quizzically. "Why am I driving?"

"I'm steeling myself so I can get through the meeting without leaving. Besides, I need to text the states to make sure they know that I'm in a meeting. I assume the provinces already know, since it is in your country."