America woke up on his hotel room's couch after another bad dream.
He didn't want to talk about it.
Long story short, America got another night of bad memories he had forgotten. Specifically, they were about 9/11.
Another one of his regrets.
Heck, America didn't even know how he could forget all those people who were his friends, his allies, his friends, especially those who had existed merely a decade before.
But most importantly, how could he forget the people he was supposed to save instead of leaving them on the floor to rot. America hated himself. How did he forget them? How could he forget them? If he can't remember them, who is he exactly? A monster? Someone who wouldn't hesitate to forget the people that sacrificed themselves for him?
Who was he exactly?
He wasn't a hero. He couldn't even save his friends.
No, he's- he's-
America couldn't find the right word as guilt filled his chest. Suddenly a word was placed into his mind. He knew the right word now, but somehow it also felt... unnatural.
He's worthless.
America shook his head as he got up. That word felt so right and yet so wrong at the same time. It felt as though two sides of his mind were fighting each other. He was starting to get a headache. He sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and went to go get some water. When he got to the kitchen, he checked the time. 4:00 AM. He had slept for around ten hours. Ten hours of nightmares.
Nice.
America drank his water and decided to visit a monument today. Why the heck not. He needed to clear his head so why not go to a monument in New York. He didn't have anything to do really. Wednesday through Friday, though advertised as meeting days, were really just planned meeting dates between two or more countries about politics, trade deals, etc. It was just more convenient to do them the week before the actual, world-wide meetings.
He searched the internet for any kind of memorial. He found one called the Teardrop Memorial. It was about an hour's drive away, but he had a ton of time to kill. He ordered his limo and started his long drive. An hour later, he arrived at the memorial. He now knew a lot about this building. It was a gift from Russia, actually, as a memorial to the victims of 9/11, of which 26 were Russians. It is also a very controversial monument because of how it looks.
America got out of his limo and walked up to the monument, surprised when he saw a particular Russian standing in front of it. America cleared his throat, causing the Russian to turn around.
Russia looked at America. For once, America didn't see him with a cigarette or a bottle of vodka. He almost always had one of them with him whenever he wasn't at a meeting. The Russian looked eerily tired and looked at the American with a straight face, emotionless.
"What are you doing here?" America broke the silence. Things had never been great between him and the commie, but America had a feeling that if they fought now, it would only add to America's guilt. Maybe he should try becoming friends with the Russian, it might improve his self-esteem.
Self-esteem. America really needs that right now.
Russia blatantly said, "I could ask the same of you."
America didn't say anything after that. He didn't exactly have a response he wanted to share. The silence dragged out until America finally asked, "Why did you make this monument anyway?"
"Though we may technically be enemies, what happened was still awful. I have a heart, unlike you." Russia looked at America for a moment on those final words and then continued to look at the monument.
Ouch. America didn't need to hear that right now. He was at an all-time low already. He still felt guilt pouring over him and realized he agreed with the Russian for once. America said in a sad tone, "Yeah, I guess I don't have one."
That caught Russia's attention. He had only been half-heartedly paying attention to the American, but this caught him off guard. America would never say that. He was far too arrogant and far too proud to admit something like that, right? Maybe he didn't know the American as well as he thought he did. Though he would never admit it, Russia was curious about this new side of America. But he mostly felt worried. As he said before, Russia may be cold, but he isn't heartless. He knows what warmth is, what family is, and whatever was going on with America felt wrong somehow. He was worried, but he decided not to press on it. Right now didn't seem to be the time for personal questions, Russia could tell by the look in the American's eyes.
America's awful at hiding his emotions.
Meanwhile, America was contemplating life itself. Physically, he felt awful, not to mention mentally. He still had that headache from earlier, too. In general, the American felt awful. The dragging and awkward silence between him and Russia wasn't exactly helping his current emotional state and he was starting to get anxiety.
A voice broke the silence, it was Russia's, "When we sent this over- I can't say the same for others- but I actually felt bad for you, Америка. Your people didn't seem to like it all that much though," Russia chuckled and shook his head.
America watched as Russia turned around, heading for the exit, "Have a nice day, Америка." And with that, he left.
America was surprised at Russia's sudden somewhat-nice state. America, who was very used to Russia yelling and arguing with him, was actually kind of happy he didn't fight with the Russian. It was nice, actually, to pretend as though Russia was a friend of his, and they weren't at each other's throats every second of their lives. Happy, America ended up staying at the monument for at least an hour before heading back to his limo. After another hour, he got back to the hotel.
In the hallway in front of America's room, America ran into Russia again. Russia was talking to Finland, specifically having a heated argument on alcohol, with Finland arguing that Kossu is the best alcohol, and with Russia arguing that Vodka is obviously the best. America chuckled and waved to the two of them. Finland noticed and waved back, while Russia nodded in recognition.
At least there's some progress there. After a few moments, however, the two countries plunged back into their argument full force. America chuckled to himself, opening the door to his hotel room. America thought to himself while he was entering his room,
'That strange Vodka Man.'
------
Heyo peeps
The Vodka Man has finally been introduced. Honestly, I was planning on putting more speech in here but w h a t e v e r. Talking? Pfft, don't need that here.
So ye
I'm having an awful time finding good songs that aren't too extreme for these depressing chapters soooo take this song
America has also started becoming a depresso espresso
The poor bean, I feel bad.
Jk, I really don't-
Tschüss!
-Selva