The Home of the Brave

3

First off, 100 READS!! THATS AWSOME! A little bit of backstory for our beloved star-spangled country here, and in truth, she has a dark past that I haven't even begun to explore with you guys yet, but I will. This is just the tip of the iceberg, and throughout the story we'll delve deeper into her past. I know the basics of what I want it to be, but I'll figure it out as I go. Also, our girl is a hardcore GIRL BOSS, all caps necessary. You'll see why, soon. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the chapter!!

United States Of America's POV

"Wasn't she great" Canada sad dreamily as poured maple syrup on his pancakes, as he did every morning. The only other thing he would eat is waffles with maple syrup, unless our mom forced him to eat something else.

I rolled my eyes "Canada, what happened to making friends with strong countries"

In truth, I had no idea who he was talking about, but was just playing along and pretending that I did

"She's not weak, necessarily, she just isn't one of the most powerful countries" and as an afterthought, my brother added "And it's not like you have any friends anyways, so why don't you mind your own business"

I chuckled softly, because I knew he didn't mean it in a mean way, he almost never did. When he was serious, his face would be all smooth and solid, but also cold. I hated it when he was serious, but thankfully it had only happened a few times, none of which I was ready to remember, but my mind had other plans.

I screamed in pain. The knife trailing along my arm came with unbearable pain. I was tied to a cold metal chair with rope that had needles and spikes embedded into it. Every time I tried to struggle, my wrists and ankles got cut more and more.

"Now now girl, don't be too loud, my son needs to be able to hear me explaining this to him" Soviet Union chuckled, and gestured towards his son.

"Dad, who is she?" The boy asked uncertainly. His flag was spit in two, not even, vertical lines. The left side was blue, and the right side was red. There was a golden hammer and sickle in the top left corner of the red side. He was wearing a Ushanka, a Russian hat, and a long, black coat.

"That's none of your concern" Soviet Union's face hardened. He dug the knife in harder, and I screamed louder, which in turn made him push in deeper. It was an endless, ruthless cycle. My eyes were squeezed shut, and tears were pouring down my face.

"Open your eyes" Soviet Union ordered, and I complied, if I didn't, there would just be more pain. He chuckled. "See son, you always have to look at the eyes, then you can see real terror"

After this, is there was an end, I vowed to never let anyone see my eyes again.

"Dad, maybe that's enough?" The boy mumbled, looking down. Soviet just laughed heartily "Oh no, I'm not done with her yet"

He ripped his knife out if my arm, which caused me to let out a strangled cry, and then started tracing a line across my back, which made everything hurt even more. I couldn't help it, I was screaming, sobbing, whimpering, shaking, and I just couldn't stop. This was pure hell.

"Hey!" I heard an achingly familiar voice say. I almost cried with relief, but i didn't because I was already crying.

In just a few seconds, my brother Canada, my mother France, and my father Great Britain barged into the room. Soviet Union and his son fled, leaving me at the chair, broken.

My mother's hands flew to her mouth as she stared at me in horror, and my father just stood there silently, shaking his head. I knew what he was thinking, that I was weak for screaming and crying. I could never gain any sympathy from my father, never gain any favor, nothing.