I looked to the dark, dreary, damp avenue. The passing headlights of cars and people who didn't give a damn in the city made me see how good the life I had was when I wasn't in this near-death state . Oh the glorious memories that my fading mind holds. I had a relatively exquisite abode, and now all I have is a soggy discarded box. You may know me, I used to be the ruthless Great Britain, and now I'm not even a country anymore. I was invaded by a nation who didn't even colonize me, he just threw me out, as if saying "Go rot in hell you fucking bastard!" (he may have even said that) What I would give to feel the warmth of the sun streaming through my bedroom window. I haven't even seen France in the longest time. I even miss that wanker and Al'. I remember when Al' was just a little colony. A tear dripped down my face as the last dimly illuminated sight of life faded.