At first, it at felt good, the pounds slipping off like water and comments like 'Oh, you look fantastic! Lost some weight?'.

Perhaps that was it, how great it felt, that it quickly spiralled out of control. But maybe it was because, despite his stature and his incredible power, he was still young and innocent enough, and not equipped to deal with the endless teasing of his fellow countries. Or, more likely, a combination of both. Which ever way it was, nothing could have stopped the descent.

A few months had gone by, and it still wasn't enough. You're nearly there, a voice whispered in his ear each time. Just a couple more pounds just a couple more- And whenever he had gained one... Come on, you fatass! You're not even close to skinny enough...

The comments had become 'Hey, you alright? You don't look well...'. Even England himself was beginning to show his concern (You're too thin, you wanker!), but the voice drowned out all of the worried words. They're just faking, it spoke soothingly, but they'll actually like you once you're not so fat.

A small graced his lips in the mirror, as he looked back at the pale, blonde man in the glass. His thin fingers came up to graze the ribs sticking out on his abdomen. Soon, he'd be perfect, right? He was almost there... Just a couple more pounds just a couple more-

That's what you all wanted, isn't it? America thought.