"Hey, did you know a rolling girl is far away, but a rolling boy is even father?" A voice heavy with an American accent spoke. The many people who sat around him, connected by a long, oval shaped table, shook their heads. The boy represented the United States of America. He looked no more than nineteen, with sunny blonde hair and lively sky blue eyes. He pushed his glasses up a bit, walking away from the table and to the large window.

"...These people could never reach their dreams." He stretched out one hand, his fingertip brushing against the cool glass. A bird flew by, flying into the soft-looking white clouds above. He curled his fingers into a fist, removing his hand.

"The worries...they neved seemed to end." He was only relating to his own problems. The economy, the depression his country would soon fall back into, it was all too much...

He didn't let it show. His smile-his fake, fake smile- showed the other countries that he was fine. Fine.

"The words 'There's no problem' is a total lie, you know. It's easily said." He went on, keeping his back to him. The light relfection that stared back at him in the window seemed to frown.

"...The words," America turned to look at them. "Do they have any meaning left?"

There were shaking heads or shrugs. That's all he ever recieved.

"America, maybe if you stop this nonsense you wouldn't be quite the failure." The words came from a familiar voice; England.

"...Fails once more, fails once more..." The American took note, writing it down on his forearm. This action caused confusion. Scribbled up and down his arm were tally marks; marking each time someone insulted him and called him a fail.

"...Have you by chance searched for the odd one in the crowd?" He asked them again, setting the permanent marked down. The exchanged glances, and America's smile grew.

"America-" France began, only to be cut off almost instantly.

"So, I start to spin again..."

America found himself on top of a hill after the meeting. The wind rustled through his clothes, ruffling his hair...

He looked below him. The giant boulder was placed at the end, the sound of the wind howling blocked out his ears. The blonde raised his hand slowly, not breaking his gaze with the rock below.

"One more time...One more time..." He mumbled, his voice cracking under the stress of the day's problems, "I think I'll keep on rolling today too."

America curled in a ball, using his legs to push himself over the edge. He was sent rolling down the slope, the pebbles and sticks clinging onto his clothes; cutting his skin. He didn't mind. He never minded. After a few seconds he was slammed into the boulder. The recoil sent him sprawled on the ground. The bright sky above sent some comfort in his aching body, enough to have forgotten about the blood that slowly ran from his stinging wounds. Pushing himself up, America walked back to the house he stayed in. The next day would always, always be the same. The whistling in the wind broke his heavy thoughts with words that sounded like, "So he says, so he says..."

"Your words don't seem sincere enough." Said a fellow nation at the next meeting.

America gave a forced smile. Honestly, he hoped his words were sincere...

He sat in his chair and let Germany take control. He had no need to, honestly.

A chair squaked, signaling that someone sat next to him. He looked over to meet the dark eyes of Japan.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No, I'm in a daze." America answered. "Trying to find the point but I can't, so,"

He got up, gathered his papers, and walked to the door, looking back at Japan.

"Maybe I should just stop breathing."

He didn't even get time to see the island nation's response, for her left the meeting.

"...I feel as if I reached the end..." America mumbled, proped against the wall of a building. His face was solemn, as if he couldn't stand life anymore. He rubbed his face, the colors blurring his vision. His senses went numb, and the thought of his dreams couldn't be felt anymore.

Inside his mind, however, was a different story. Many voices of his past swirled around, trying to become one full voice.

"They're all merging into one...they'll all merging into one!"

"No problem!" America smiled as he told Canada when his brother pulled him over one day after the meeting.

"America, that's so easily said." The blonde replied, his violet eyes showing so much worry, that even America was taken aback.

"But Canada, those words have no meaning left." America replied blandly. Canada went in to hug him, but America spun on his heels and began to walk away, leaving his brother behind.

"How will I stay on the right path? Even when the hill is tempting me to stray from what's right-" America bit his lip as the hill he usually rolled on seemed to taunt him, wanting him to come over there-

He refused. In his mind, he refused.

Giving in, he ran at full speed to the grassy hillside.

"MAKE MISTAKES I'LL REGRET!" He screamed as he made his way to the top.

Once again, he found himself at the top of the same hill, having the same intentions. He watched as the wind howled below, the same boulder stained with his blood towered high.

He shakily raised his hand, the new bandages added to his collection of bruises and hurt.

He didn't mind. The blood, the pain, the misery...

He didn't mind at all. America raised one hand. "One more time, one more time... somehow I'll find a way to keep on rolling..." The wind whispered softly in his ears, in one and out the other.

"So he says...so he says..."

America closed his eyes, curling into a ball, then pushed himself over. The thrill he got the first time from rolling the first time wasn't the same now. Once again, he found himself colliding with the same boulder as before. He rolled over and groaned. He needed something bigger to ease the pain...those silent words were sincere enough for him.

The sound of footsteps were heard, desperately pounding against the hard dirt ground.

"Are you alright?!" Japan's panicked voice screamed out to him. The freedom nation pushed himself off the ground, staggering left and right for a bit until he found his balance. He put a hand out in front of him to stop Japan from coming any closer.

"Just give me some time. I'll do something about all of this soon..." His breathing became heavy as tears pricked in the corner of his eyes. "You'll see when I stop breathing-" This time he was able to see the look of concern on Japan's face.

"...One more time..One more time...I think I'll keep on rolling today too.." America called out to the group of countries that gathered for yet another meeting.

"So he says, so he says...making sure each word is said with a smile." Japan chimed in, blankly doodling on a piece of paper. America noticed that his mouth was curved upward in a smile that he held in the old days...

"Are you alright?" Each country asked in unison, "Yes it's alright, you must be so sick and tired of this..."

America laughed his heroic laugh, and smiled brightly.

"I just want to stop... breathing.."