The world as we know it is over and this is the new age. A sickness spread among the human race, wiping out almost the entire population. Even our best scientists couldn't find a cure. Only a few people survived this apocalyptic disease. Scientists say it was something weird in our DNA, but who the hell cares, it doesn't matter. With this new sickness came a revolution that shook the already broken world. Governments fell, more people died, and society came to a halt.

One by one, the old countries died. The more the revolution affected the country, the quicker their death. Some of the citizens still had hope that the old countries would survive, until that day. The last country, Madagascar, had died slowly and painfully, the revolutions weren't as bad there. Without the countries, more chaos arose. Then, from the darkness and hatred, new countries were born. They were ruthless killers who quickly took over and restored order, or as much as they could.

These revolutions were many centuries ago and the human race has evolved. I live in Italy, a land that was once beautiful and full of happiness, but is now full of depression and sorrow. I was born and raised here. I used to look around at the citizens as they go about their daily lives. Nobody smiled, they just walked quickly to their destination so they could hurry up and get home, where they think they are safe. The truth is nobody was safe, and they never will be.

If anyone breaks even the smallest rule, you will die by order of the country. The new Italy is the worst of them all. When I was small, my parents stole a bit of money to buy food for us. Italy found out about their small crime to keep me alive. He had them killed them in broad daylight, in the middle of the street. I was in the house at that time, but I never forgot the feeling of hatred and loss when a couple of soldiers told me that my parents were dead. I was sent to live with my grandmother who lived on the other side of town. She had a bit more money, so I was better fed, but it wasn't the same. My grandfather had died many years before I was born when he was a soldier. He was killed in battle during a small rebellion. It was pointless though, the soldiers were too strong.

The rules here are ridiculous. You have to be in your house by 7:30 pm, you cannot leave your house until 6:30 am. Anyone caught outside after curfew will be executed on the spot. You can leave your house to visit relatives, go to work, or run errands. Anyone outside of their house without reason will be thrown in prison, which is worse than death. Most of the executions are done by hired men with guns. They call themselves the Black Army, their purpose is to make our lives miserable.

Italy has the entire Black Army at his command. He is cold and cruel, but nobody ever has ever seen him. He lives in a giant mansion on the edge of the city. We almost never got to see anybody going in or coming out. It was sealed off from the rest of the world. The mansion is like it's own little world, blocked off from the pain and suffering outside.

There are rumors about Italy. Some say he is an old man who can't even move, but he has sons and grandsons and great grandsons who all look like him when he was younger and they do the killing. Others say he isn't a man, but a shadow that stalks his prey in the night. A few people say that he is dead, and that his servants run the country now. Today, all of us would learn who was right.

There is another important event in our lives here. Every 50 years or so, a new wife is chosen for the country. All the women between 18 and 29 have their names written on slips of paper which are thrown into a bucket. If your name is chosen, you live in the mansion until you die. You never see the outside world again and you are forced to be his slave. I just turned 26 and it had been 50 years since the last woman was chosen.

All of the citizens gathered in the Colosseum. We would soon see Italy, the reason we lived in hell. I was lined up with the other women in front of a large crowd of people. I was so nervous, everyone is forced to come to this ceremony. I saw my grandmother sitting up front, smiling. Her smiled always seemed to calm me. It was sweet and gentle. She made me feel like nothing could go wrong. I desperately wanted to run to her and leave the land, but if the Black Army caught us, we would both be killed. At the moment, that didn't seem like such a bad idea.

I overheard a few girls talking. One of them said she wanted to be chosen, being the wife of the country must be heaven. You get all the food you want and you live in the biggest, nicest house in the world. Then if that wasn't enough, one of the girls claimed she saw Italy with her own eyes. She said that even though he was evil, he was very good looking, after all, every girl likes a bad boy right? I thought since he was centuries old, he would look like an old man with wrinkled skin and grey hair. What kind of girl would want to be an old man's sex slave her entire life?

Without warning, the sound of trumpets blasted through the air. Everyone turned to look at the main arena. The army walked in carrying rifles. The entire stadium went silent as they waited for their cruel leader. It was about an hour before the army filled and took their positions in the arena. We waited even longer to see Italy.

There was a dark figure that stuck out from the crowd. It had to be him, the man who ruined my life and the life of his citizens. His brown uniform stuck out from the black uniforms his soldiers wore. From a distance, we couldn't see his features, just that he had darker skin and brown hair. He stepped up onto a stage and sat in a chair. After he sat down, a few more men walked in, one had dark black hair and was shorter, and the other was a huge man with slicked back blond hair.

Many large TVs turned on, all with cameras pointing at Italy. He was the opposite of everything I expected. He was young, he looked like he was younger than most of the girls here. He had bright magenta eyes that seemed to stick out from the general darkness of his skin. His face wasn't twisted with rage either, but it was calm, almost bored. I looked over at the girls that were talking, all of them had a slight blush. They only looked at the TVs for a few moments at a time, each time, their blush got deeper.

Italy stood up and grabbed a microphone. He looked around the stadium to make sure everyone was listening. He took a deep breath before speaking. His voice was calm, almost soothing to hear, but there was something off about it. Maybe because I had expected a harsh voice filled with anger and rage. It was hard to believe that this man, no, this kid, was the one in charge of us all.

"Ahem… It has been 50 years since we gathered together as one nation. 50 years since a woman came to be my wife… Lutz, Kuro, pull out a name." Italy said as if he had said those exact same words everyday. He stepped back a bit as the other two men pulled out a bucket full of names. I knew that my name was in there, along with the girls that were talking. I wished that one of their names would be chosen. But this story is about me, so that already tells you that my name was chosen. Out of all the women in that bucket, my name was chosen. After all, what good would it be to read he diary of a normal, unimportant woman living a normal, unimportant life.