"I'm undone. All I know is the weight of the world

So empty and so uninspired

Sorrow, sleep, and disbelief

Caught up in the weight of the world."

~Weight, Hands like houses

Alfred stood on his scale, looking down at the horrible number on the scale; 168. He felt his throat tighten as he tried to keep back tears. His efforts were in vain, because he could feel the tears rushing down his cheeks. He could still hear the other countries mocking words from the meeting the day before. He had heard it all. Though he usually seemed too oblivious to understand to the others, he understood a lot more then they thought. He heard every cutting word they said. And it hurt. He could still hear their words ringing in his ears.

"You big stupid oaf, aru."

"Bloody hell, how many burgers are you going to eat?"

even a three year old could pay attention better than you!

"If you were any fatter, you would have to walk instead of roll!"

The thought of their words just made him cry even harder. They were right. He was fat. He was stupid. He was ugly.

He was disgusting.

He began to list everything wrong with him.

Fat.

ugly.

stupid.

lazy.

worthless.

unloved.

And when he looked into his face in the mirror, all he could see was fat. Horrible, ugly, disgusting fat. When in reality, this was not true at all.

He was a disappointment. He was supposed to be the land of the free and home of the brave, right? All he could see in his reflection was a coward. He was supposed to be America the beautiful, right? Then why was he just so... not?

He disappointed his people.

He disappointed the other countries.

He disappointed England.

And most importantly, he disappointed himself.

But he could fix it. He could do anything if he tried, right? He could be America the beautiful again, not America the fat, ugly country. He would loose the weight. He would work out. He would study. After then nobody would make fun of him.
And maybe, just maybe... Britain would be proud of him.

He would be perfect. No matter what the cost.

1 Month Later...

America woke up to his alarm blaring. His dull blue eyes opened slowly, trying to take in his surroundings, before finally settling on the clock. 6:00 a.m. He blinked slowly, letting a small yawn escape. He was confused. Why had he set his alarm so early again? Then it came back to him. The world meeting. It was his turn to host this time. He got up, being careful not to get up too fast, or else he might fall. He made his way into his bathroom, wincing slightly when his feet touched the cold tile of the bathroom floor. He shivered. It was cold.

He turned on the shower, the steam heating up the rather cold bathroom. He made his way to the scale. It had become a habit to immediately go to the scale when he got up in the morning. And it was especially important today. The other countries would all see him today.

He stepped onto the scale and closed his eyes, almost too scared to look at the number on the dark little screen of his scale. But he hesitantly looked down. 134.6. He sighed slightly. It was a start, he guessed. Better than nothing.

Wow alfred, the voice in his voice coos, a teasing lilt in the words, I can't believe you! You're actually proud of that? Do you know how fat you are? Do you? Maybe if you spent more time working out, you wouldn't be so huge! Are you even trying anymore?

America clenched his jaw, getting more and more upset by the minute. He was trying! Trying so hard. And it was so difficult at first. At first, he had just skipped dinner, then he started skipping lunch too. Then he would eat every three days. Eventually the voice got to be too much, with all its mocking and teasing, and he had stopped eating altogether. He had stopped eating altogether.

His heart clenched painfully. Even after all this, he was still so fat. The voice was right. He was still so fat. The voice laughed cruelly, mocking him further.

America stepped into the steaming hot shower, relishing in the hot water. He wished the water would wash his fat away too.

As soon as England stepped into the conference room, he knew that something was off. He looked around, countries were bickering as usual, but the room just seemed a little less... loud today. He just couldn't put his finger on it. He looked around a little more, and saw America sitting in his seat at the head of the table, completely silent and with no burger in his hand.

England rose his eyebrows in surprise. Almost never was America without one of his precious hamburgers. So this was what was strange. No loud American yelling for no reason at all.

He made his way up to America, stopping to stand right in front of him. America had not noticed though. He was staring off into space, mouth closed into a thin line. England decided to speak.

"Hello America," England greeted, and the American's eyes snapped forward, landing on the brit in front of him. "Hey Iggy!" America's voice was loud and obnoxious as usual, But it just didn't seem the same to England. He didn't know what though. He ignored the fact that America had called him by that horrid nickname 'Iggy' and got down to business.

He looked at America closely." Are you okay? You seem a little off today." America laughed. "Of course dude! Why wouldn't I be?" His eyes wouldn't meet Englands. England stared into those blue eyes. That's what it was. His eyes. His eyes were duller than usual, with a sad, hopeless look to them. America obviously wasn't in the mood to talk though, so instead he decided to change the subject. "When does the meeting start?" He asked, and America responded, "As soon as Germany-"

He was interrupted by the loud german yelling "Let's start the meeting!" England went back to his seat for the meeting. But even as the other countries were giving their speeches, he paid no attention, watching America. During America's speech, he was just as happy and carefree as usual, shouting about hero's and things. His eyes didn't match his smile.

Something was wrong with America. And England decided that he was going to find out exactly what it was.