A/N

For now on, "states" will also refer to the territories and district.

And also:

WARNING!!!

THERE WILL BE BAD WORDS!!!!

THEY WILL BE BLEEPED OUT, OF COURSE, BUT STILL!!!!!

Also, it will revolve mostly around the 2016 elections. If that bothers you too much to read this, then. . . I can relate.

Enjoy!

~Shatter.

Chapter Six.

~°~

America turned on the TV. The states, England, and America were going to watch the results of the elections.

"This," America said quietly, "is going to be the scariest horror movie I've ever seen."

England looked at America, confused. "But it isn't a horror movie. . ."

America looked at England with a serious face. "It might as well be," he said. "Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump. . . . aka the liar and the orange Hitler."

England looked at America's face and knew that he wasn't joking.

"You're being more serious than usual," England muttered.

"He always is," Texas said. "Elections are a serious matter. And as for the candidates. . . . I would be happy to blow their faces in. Especially the Hitler 2.0." Texas's hand twitched towards one of his guns. The other states all voiced their agreement.

"Believe me," America said. "I would too."

"One of them is going to be your boss," England reminded America.

America shuddered. "Unfortunately, I know that. I can't say I've never disobeyed orders before, though. . ."

"You did what?!" D.C. exclaimed before she could stop herself.

"Not all rules are good ones," America told the states. "The world isn't a perfect place. Sometimes rules need to be broken in order to do what needs to be done."

His kids were all listening intently. They all nodded once in unison.  England shifted nervously. He was reminded of an army, and England knew that each of the states were raised by America. Maybe and probably even trained by him.

"And remember, sometimes I need to do things that I would never want any of you to do. I'm just a hypocrite. Like when I went into battle injured. Against my boss's orders."

"WHAT?!" England asked. The room was suddenly silent. "Sorry. . . but you did WHAT?!"

America winced slightly.

"I agree with England," New York said. "You did WHAT?!"

America glared at New York slightly. "Of course you do. Besides, what would you expect me to do?"

England and New York considered the point.

"When was this?" England asked. When America didn't reply, England's knew.

(A/N If any of you don't know what I'm referring to, then. . . -_-)

"I'm the hero," America said, as if that answered everything. To England's surprise, the states nodded and smiled slightly in understanding.

"We are the heroes!" the states chorused.

~°~

As they went over the final results and looked at the numbers, states were shocked by the amount of people voting for Trump in their states.

Surprisingly to England, America was the first one to calculate who had won the elections. Then, what shocked England more, was America's reaction.

When America finished the calculations, he made a strangled gasp. He seemed unable to breathe for a moment as he stared at the screen in shock. Then, he buried his face into his hands.

There was a long silence as everyone in the room watched America. (Most) had never seen him act like this before.

(A/N Btw, someone had paused the TV when America started having this. . . mental breakdown.)

Then, he was suddenly standing up, rage written as clear as it could be all over his face as he yelled at the TV.

"WHAT THE (BEEP)!" He yelled. "DON'T YOU DARE TAKE A (BEEP)ING STEP INTO THE (BEEP)ING WHITE HOUSE, YOU RACIST, SEXIST, ARROGANT, B****! GET OUT OF MY GODDAM* COUNTRY YOU SON OF A B****! YOU MAY HAVE WON THE (BEEP)ING ELECTION, BUT YOU DIDN'T WIN THE POPULAR VOTE, YOU (BEEP)ING B****! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY (BEEP)ING COUNTRY! GET OUT NOW! BETTER YET, GO DIE! JUMP OFF A CLIFF YOU ORANGE B******! ACTUALLY, JUST WAIT! LET ME GET OVER TO WHERE YOU (BEEP)ING ARE RIGHT (BEEP)ING NOW—"

(A/N The rest of this is censored.)

(A/N Btw, this paragraph totally doesn't reflect any of my personal beliefs.)

(A/N Let's all take a moment to realize how amazing sarcasm really is.)

The nations had heard the commotion and came running in. What they saw shocked them.

They saw. . .

A/N

I'm going to end the chapter here. Bye peoples!

~Shatter.

A/N JK. I'll keep writing:)

Back to the story!

~Shatter.

They saw America in front of the TV yelling out curse words (in every language) that ever existed (and some that didn't exist until that moment) on the top of his lungs (which is really really loud) and flipping off his future boss through the television screen.

Everyone in the room (dude, there's, like, hundreds of people there now) stood in shock. America suddenly pulled out a gun and tried to jump out the open window.

England and New York reacted first, each holding onto the back of his jacket. America continued struggling as more of his kids came to hold him back.

"Are you insane?" England asked. "You were about to jump out a window!"

"I know," America said. "I'd be fine. Just let me go!"

(A/N If you love me let me go!)

England and the states, of course, did no such thing. Also, nobody really understood what he had said, since he had said it in a mixture of a bunch of different languages.

"LET ME GO!!!" America yelled in English. He accidentally talked with an English accent though.

"No!" England replied. "You'll just murder him or something! You can't murder your future boss!"

"He deserves it!" America screeched (this time accidentally having a French accent). "That racist, sexist, little son of a b****!"

~°AAAAAND A TIME SKIP TO LATER°~

America glared at his door. He was alone in his room. He had (kind of) gotten over his rage (at least to the extent that he could mostly control himself) and now was sitting on his bed, thinking.

He stood up, and walked into the bathroom.

'I know I told you two that I wouldn't,' America thought, pulling out a knife, 'but what else am I supposed to do? Sorry, New York and England.'

America pressed the knife into his skin, and all though about being sorry fled from his mind.

Because, in reality, he wasn't sorry.

Not one bit.

America sighed, relieved, as he saw the crimson blood appear on his skin.

Don't ever be sorry for doing what you need to do, America.

A/N

So, this is actually the end this time. I hope you liked the chapter:)

And if you're wondering about that last sentence, you'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway, give feedback, comment, and everything like that. Thanks for suffering through this story.

~Pirate England!