The Things I'd Rather Forget // Countryhumans AU

Ch 6: One Good Memory is all it Takes // The Lone Star

Monday morning...

If only the days hadn't dragged on for so long. America was hungry, sleep-deprived, now has low self-esteem due to what could most likely be described as PTSD and just, in general, felt like a bag of sh!t.

All in all, pretty great.

America had been procrastinating on watering his iris, saying he'd do it today but he didn't feel like it today, either. As a summary for what happened on Friday till now, Canada did the date with Ukraine, they're most likely a gay couple now (or close to it), America hasn't seen Russia for the past few days, Japan came over yesterday to steal all of America's pocky (America doesn't really care cause he wasn't gonna eat them anyway), America accidentally broke a glass vase in the hallway and is too lazy to pick it all up, and America still needs to talk to Southie about his crush on the anime girl. Other than that, America's just been casually starving himself and trying not to fall asleep. The only hope America had for this week was that one, people won't notice how awful America looks, and two, that America doesn't fall asleep during the meetings or just fall asleep in general.

America had these hopes but he was 99% sure that the world hated him and he won't get all that he wishes for. So, America is just hoping he can last the week. He got ready for the meeting and got his driver to drive him there early. This time he will be early. He owed it to so many people...

America quickly got inside the car, shook away his incoming depressing thoughts and instead paid attention to the city around him, sighing.

--~--

America must have fallen asleep because he was in a place he didn't recognize. It was a forest, though America couldn't tell where. It somehow felt very familiar.

"Mr. America?" A quiet voice behind him whispered.

America felt tears hit his eyes as he recognized that voice. 'No, no... no no no no no nonononono, not this, anything but this. Any other memory, please!' America thought, but the world didn't change. He was stuck here. Stuck here with his worst regret.

America turned around to see Anna. The little girl with brown hair and blue eyes.

"Mr. America, why are you crying?" Anna asked, her voice the exact same as how it used to be.

America quickly wiped away his tears, crouched down, and held Anna by her shoulders, his head hanging down. "I'm so sorry, Anna... I'm so sorry..."

"Sorry for what, Mr. America?" He heard Anna say. America didn't want to look up. He knew what he was going to see if he looked up. He couldn't feel Anna's shoulders anymore. 'No, don't look up, don't look up,' America screamed to himself, but something, someone, lifted his head up. There Anna was, on the grass, her dress torn, and a very obvious bullet wound in her chest. The poor girl was surrounded in a pool of her own blood. America felt his body go up to the little girl and hold her.

"I did it, Mr. America... I did it..." Anna smiled weakly, her body was lighter than what it ever was before. America saw his own tears drop down onto the grass. "I did it... so why aren't you happy?"

"You didn't need to, Anna, you didn't need to."

"But he was in danger I-"

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO GO!" America yelled out, "I told you not to go... Why... why did you do it..."

Anna smiled, "Because everyone deserves to live." With that, America could no longer hear Anna's short, quick breaths. She was gone.

America had told her not to go...