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March 7, New York

"Sir, you've got to be kidding me."

America couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"You ought to stay home, America, until further instructions."

Was it his turn to be suspended? Did the rumors reach the organizations? If so, America had thought the United Nations was far more rational than to listen to blatant rumors from passersby in the corridors.
Unless...

Unless what? America thought, Unless what? He seemed to be robbed of clear thought, even as numerous bulbs clicked in his head. He couldn't hear, or didn't bother to listen, to what UN said in reply. His voice sounded like a soft echo, as if he were speaking above water while America kept sinking underwater...America felt as if he were underwater, yes that was right, and something, dread probably, was strangling him, or was being chained to him like an anchor, dragging him under and under the darkness, where bright lights could never reach.

Perhaps this is what China felt when he was being confronted by the United Nations.

"You are dismissed."
That was all America heard from UN, and hearing this, he regained consciousness. He realized that he was in the grand conference room, standing in front of UN. It seems strange, that when we are so caught up with our thoughts we ignore our surroundings, and a mere statement can snap our minds back to reality in a way we only remember what reality was like before we start to space out, but it really shouldn't be.

"America?" UN asked, however he did so in a more concerned tone.

"Ah, yes, I'll take my leave," America replied, and as he did, he walked to the doors and pulled them open.

He could see that Canada had been waiting outside for him in an anxious manner, and when Canada saw him, he said in a very fast pace, "Well, I tried to tell you that someone had baited you a while ago, so you had to be careful, but I never did since the meeting started already," but then he looked down and then added, "but then again, I'm sure you already know that..."

"Yes, I know that, Canad- Wait what?!"

The two stared each other. It was a swift moment, however, thanks to what Canada had just said, everything in America's head became clear and pristine, and the numerous "Unless what"'s that had clouded his head a while ago had been answered.

"Someone baited me?"

"Yes, but I'm not clear on who it is, but I'm sure that they're probably the murderer, or the one behind the murders."

The two then continued their conversation by walking in the hallways amidst rumors and murmurs (news truly does travel fast!), their conversation getting farther and farther than the statement above. This made America feel slightly happier now that what are in attention are not the rumors nor the murders, but light-hearted, everyday things.

The two bid farewell to each other once they have reached America's office, and, as he walked into his office alone, could feel dread rising up. No, don't think about that, America told himself over and over, even after realizing he had no paperwork to distract himself with.

Suddenly, probably seconds after he walked inside his office and closed the door, a knock came.

America walked towards the door (with a little bit of regret that he had closed the door so quickly) and, carefully for apparently no reason, opened the door.

He saw a small familiar green country with Arabic words in his face, dressed in a dark green beret and khaki uniform with a green crest.
I think you may have known who this little one is.

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