Everything has been figured out, except how to live.

~ Jean- Paul Starte

I looked out the window of the ship, thinking of many things. My life, my country… and America. I wondered how he was doing. This was the first time I'd left him alone by himself. When my queen contacted me about another journey… I had no idea what to think. I remember her asking if I knew how to be a pirate. I had laughed at her, and then did what she asked. At the time America was still very small, so I waited another year before leaving to go pirating.

"Captain, we have a Spanish ship approaching." One of my men said from the doorway, I got up brushing myself off. I flashed a quick quirky grin, and grabbed my sword. This was going to be fun.

"You damn bastard! Let me go!" Spain howled in defeat. At the moment he was tied up to one of the ship's poles. I rolled my eyes, brushing off dry blood. Defeating Spain was fairly easy; I was lucky that frog France wasn't there.

"Shut up." I drawled, slightly annoyed, and pointed the tip of my sword at his throat. He glared at me, but didn't dare respond.

"Hey Captain, what are we going to do with him?" my right hand man asked confused. I thought for a moment, wondering if I should just drop him off at a random island. I shrugged, my shoulders relaxing.

"We'll just make him cook." He smiled, looking grateful to taste something other than my disgusting food.

"What?" Spain asked furiously, turning bright red. I glanced back at him, and frowned.

"Would you rather die? I heard your raising a little country right now. Would you just like to leave him defenseless?" I asked cruelly. An image of America flashed in my mind, but I tried to ignore it. I was a fuggin pirate. Pirates were not regretful

"Shut up and leave Romano out of this." He growled, and glared at me hatefully. That night all I could see was his horrified eyes when I mentioned Romano.

The next week

So far we had plundered most of Spain's ships, and one of France's. The damn bastard had gotten stronger. Spain had started working in the kitchen, and though I'd never say it; his food was so much better than mine.

"Captain! It's one of France's ships!" one of crewmates hollered from the deck. I quickly stood up, and grabbed my best sword. I smirked quickly, knowing for sure I was going to win. The fight turned out to be very hard, and two men ended up dying.

"Sir! France is on that ship!" my right hand man called to me. I was currently locked in a battle with some idiot, and hearing that, I quickly disarmed him and shoved my sword through his chest. Blood splattered all over me, but I didn't notice. I ran up to the top deck, and looked at France's deck. As sure as he said it, France stood there grinning mechanically. He caught sight of me, and laughed loudly. I clashed my teeth together, already getting pissed off.

"Oi! I see little England! Ohonhonhonhon!" he laughed, and smirked at me. I grimaced, and pulled out my sword. It gleamed with shine, and wet blood. His eyes narrowed, and he pulled his out as well. I grinned crazily, and launched myself at him. Taking him by surprise, I quickly ducked, knowing he would swing at me. I tackled his legs, and he fell over.

"Bloody-!" but finished. I was on top of him, and pointing my sword at his throat. He looked down, and blushed.

"FUDGING (my mom just happened to read THAT line… T.T) pervert!" I gasped scrunching my nose, and jerked his head up to meet my eyes. He grimaced at me with hatred. All of a sudden his eyes lit up. Taking that as a cue, I ducked just as a sword swung at where my head was. I kicked back, and somehow was able to defend myself. It was Spain. He had a crazy look in his eyes, and swung at me again. I ducked, and ran past him. Knowing I was outnumbered, I jumped tried jumping back on my ship. Before that though, I noticed something next to my flag. It was a small doll with brown-blond hair and bright blue eyes.

"What the hell..?" I gasped. When realization hit, it was too late. France and Spain had already composed themselves, and grabbed my waist.

I looked back at the creepy doll, and with a chocked gasped, I realized I was looking at a replica America.

The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows.

~ Socrates

The next week

After my pathetic capture, I was sent to work on cleaning. Apparently, it was 'funny' to call me 'the manly maid.' I mean like, where the hell did that one come..?

"Oi! England!" France called for the umpteenth time. I turned towards him scowling. "Get me another red wine!" he smirked.

"Fine." I muttered viciously.

"Fine, what?" he drawled, clearing enjoying this.

"FINE YOU IDIOT!" I screeched murderously. France narrowed his eyes at me, and waved his hand.

"Whatever. Try to control your PMSing." He grinned. I glared at him, holding back a very strong retort. I stomped off to the kitchen, feeling his eyes follow me.

"I hate him…" I muttered angrily. I still hadn't gotten over the creepy doll on my ship. I felt my face getting red, and my eyes glisten.

"Stop it." I growled, and lightly smacked myself. I grabbed the wine, and headed up back towards the deck.

"Finally!" I heard Francis groan. "There's no need to get all dressed up just for me." He said dramatically, but still smirking. He knew I hated this, and was absolutely terrified of his warning. My skin crawled with hatred. I slammed the bottle down, and gave him a dirty look. This went on for about another week.

Two weeks later

At this point I was starting to get nervous. Where were my men? Why weren't they trying to rescue me? I'm a bloody country, I know I'm valuable. For the next three days I started to get worried about America. Was he okay? Or had Spain already gotten to him? I really didn't want to find out.

I dreamed I was in a dessert. Only dressed in some loose brown pants. It was just me.. and America. I watched helplessly as he died slowly, not able to move, I could help him. Tears streamed down my face, and I watched as he breathed his last breath. The last thing I heard was,

"You weren't strong enough."

I quickly woke up, gasping for air. I was covered in sweat, and unsure of where I was. I looked around. Where the hell was I..? it looked like a storage room, but it tons of…. Dolls. Bloody hell. I quickly shut my eyes, not daring to look at them. As an hour passed, I couldn't take it anymore. I snapped them open, and focused on one of the dolls. I bit back a scream. They were everywhere. Dead, evil grins covering America… why? Where was I? In hell? Was this a punishment for losing. I sat in there sobbing quietly, and after an hour, I snapped. I jumped to my feet and screamed, sobbing loudly. If I was sober I would have smacked myself, but for some reason I felt like they were all real.

"Let me out!" I screeched, and pounded on the door. Feelings of fear coursed through me, and I sunk to the floor. I sat in there for about a day, and I was starting to feel hungry and thirsty. I was sure I was going to die in this pit. After an eternity, the locked door opened. I jumped up, and dashed to the opening.

"Well have you-"a voice came, and I bumped right into them. I addmeadiatly dashed past them. Seeing that I was still on France's ship. I desperately searched for a way off. I saw Spain staring me, mouth agape. I saw a small boat, and quickly jumped in it. I pulled out a sword I got from one of the dolls, and cut the ropes. I heard some angry yelling, and daggers whip past my ear.

"England!" France yelled angrily. He yelled a large gun in his hand, and my eyes widened in shock. I started rowing furiously, desperate to get away. I saw a ship with a British flag, and I started yelling happily, trying to get their attention. I saw my right hand man point at me excitedly, and point at me.

I laughed crazily, and yelled back at France and Spain, "Screw you idiots! Have fun dying!" right as my men reached me. I was helped aboard, and no one asked me why my eyes were poufy and red.

"Should we attack?" someone asked. I really wanted to say yes, but we had to quickly get to America before they did.

"Head west!" I called, and grinned at France. I quickly flipped him off, and joined my crew. I laughed the whole way there.