The America/Hetalia one-shot book no one needed nor wanted

Emotion is an illusion. Pt. 1

"Listen, and listen well. You are terrible at everything, you are nothing but a useless piece of trash. Repeat it." A strict feminine voice said firmly.

"I am terrible at everything, I am nothing but a useless piece of trash" A young childish voice said.

"Good. Now, throw that trash you call art in the fire and go to the closet. You need to be punished." The firm voice said.

The child nods his one piece of stubborn hair drooping even lower and he walked away. Blue eyes look over a drawing of a sunflower. It looked so alive and beautiful. The child felt tears come to his eyes as he put the drawing into the fire and watched it burn. The blue dulled as they watched the flower crumble and turn to ashes.

He then walked to the closet and sat staring at the wall. He didn't even notice when the lock clicked. He didn't care that he would be spending another week staring at the same wall. He was useless so, why would he need to care about such things?
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Time skip.

A young adult walked by himself on the sidewalk. His eyes were a dull lifeless almost grey-blue that hid behind broken frames. He had dark bags that were not hidden by the glasses. His mouth was set in a thin line and the hair that once made him different was so low it might as well be a part of his other hair.

This, was Alfred F. Jones. He was one of many chosen to represent America at a new school where they will chose a new representative for America at the World Congress. These people were usually on the older side but there were also a few young ones. Like him. He was only 19 and he was told he was different. He didn't understand why he was chosen. Not really.

He knew he was different, it had been engraved into him at a young age. He was useless and trash. But, they seemed to think his difference was a good thing.

Little did he know, but this was an elaborate scheme to find the personification of America. You see, the boy stopped caring about anything and didn't even notice his lack if aging or the constant voices in his head so he didn't realize how different he was. He stopped caring about everything so why care about the world around him. Though, it was strange how he found himself in every American war.

He was an emotionless husk that breathed, eats, and works. He didn't need sleep. He never did. It was but a small annoyance he learned to ignore at a young age.

He sat down among the group of people. Each one was an excited American. Well, except him who was emotionless.

"Good morning, I am glad you are all finally here. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I will be your headmaster and the overseer of this project. I represent the United Kingdom in the World Congress. " An English man said with thick eyebrows and shimmering green eyes.

Those green eyes scanned the crowd and locked with Alfred's dead ones for a second. Alfred didn't even react. A man with long wavy hair stepped up. He had stubble in his sharp chin and was wearing a rather bizarre outfit.

"I am Mr. Bonnefoy and I will be the school's French teacher. I represent France in the world Congress"

Okay, we are skipping the rest of the introductions. Here's a key.
Headmaster-England
French teacher- France
Spanish teacher- Spain
Russian teacher- Russia
Cooks- The Italies
PE- Germany(p.s. they are all gonna die.)
Music- Austria
Art- North Italy
Cooking class- South Italy
English- Canada
Social studies- it depends

Math teacher- Russia

Okay, here we go.

"We have selected schedules for each person. We will call you by name and you shall receive your schedule. Then you can leave." Headmaster Kirkland said.