I love Canada, I truly do.

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149 Years

17th of August.

It had been a little over one and a half month, since Canada´s birthday. Canada´s birthday had taken place on the first of July, a beautiful Friday, with the sun shining and the birds singing. Canada had turned 149 years that day and it had been the same story, just like each other year. No matter what he did, his birthday, no, his existence was once again forgotten by the other countries. This year he actually had a great year. His president, Justin Trudeau was hot, his cabinet was the best one ever and he had helped a lot of people this year. He had for instance taken in 25.000 Syrian refugees. Matthew had all the reasons to be proud of himself, but here he was sitting in his decorated living room, forgotten for the 149th year in a row. Well, there was that drunk call from Prussia in the 1960´s, but there had been no visits, presents or congratulations beyond that.

Matthew, was growing tired of being forgotten. He actually hasn´t gone to the last 10 worldmeetings where he was supposed to go to. Nor, did he go to his brother's party on the fourth of July. He hadnt´t wanted to go to a party where he had to go to and pretend that it was okay that everyone had forgotten his birthday, like every year. So he hadn´t and just thinking about it, Matthew started sniffling softly, he hated his brother's parties. He would try to get his brothers attention the entire evening to congratulate him, yet his brother and everybody else would not see him for the entire evening. Now one and a half month later, his brother still hadn´t spoken about him not going to see him on his independence day, so, it was probably okay. It was just depressing thinking about it again, but then again, so was his life. Matthew, whom was sitting in the dark, whispered to himself: "I mean, like who else would be forgotten for 149 years? What if they would forget my 150 birthday?". Matthew got up from his chair and looked at the Canada day decorations that he still had lying around and thought depressingly: "I don't want an 150th line on my arms".

Matthew had a sort of tradition, that he would do every year on the day after Canada day. It wasn't a good tradition and as much as he wanted to stop it he just had to do it. A cut for every year that he was forgotten by the world. At the moment 149 lines decorated his arms and for some reason the thought of getting a 150th line there really repelled him. Why could his family not just remember him? Have one celebration together with him?

Matthew walked to his desk and grabbed a quill and some paper and started with writing the date and place in the top corner. Canada had made up his mind. He would not live through another birthday of his own. In the letter, addressed to Alfred, he told him how he loved him as his brother and continued to write down some of the best memories he had of the two of them. It wasn't a long letter, as America tended to forget him quickly, but it was a letter of love. Matthew also told Alfred of the fact that it was going to be his 150th birthday this year, but didn't mention anything of his plans, not to live through another birthday all on his own. Matthew then ended the letter, with telling Alfred that he had to tell England and France that he loved them. Matthew chose to not sign the letter. Alfred would know whom it was from. A signature wasn't needed.

Matthew put the letter in an envelope and wrote down Alfred's address on it. Somewhere far away he could hear the clocks ring, indicating that it was midnight. Not caring about the time Matthew grabbed his coat and went outside. Even though it was august, the weather was already getting cold, as he was up pretty high north this year. There was a little bit of snow twirling down as winter never truly left his lands. Quickly Matthew got into his car and drove to the closest mailbox, where he deposited his letter to Alfred. To Matthew there was no going back now and Matthew drove his car out of the town and into the wilderness.

After driving for about 2 hours, Matthew arrived at Aberdeen lake. It was in his opinion one of the most beautiful lakes ever. Especially this evening. Even though the time for the year was completely wrong, the water was illuminated by the northern lights. Oh, how Matthew loved his land. He truly did. The problem was only that nobody else did.

149 scars and no more. He could just not live with 150 scars. Matthew put of his jacket and shoes. He stood there in his t-shirt and jeans enjoying the view for one last time and stepped forward into the lake. Matthew could feel the cold glacier water numb his foot the moment he touched it, but he kept treading forward. Soon the water was until his knees. Hopefully America, England and France would forgive him. The water was now at his hips. No more pancakes for him or hockey matches. The water was at his chest. No more cute Kumajirou asking for his name. Matthew started swimming. The cold was numbing him. He could already no longer feel his legs. Matthew kept moving his arms though. No more bullying from Russia, no more being mistaken for America, no more being forgotten by everyone else. His arms turned too heavy and Matthew could no longer move. He started sinking to the bottom.

It was okay like this. He had a lot of good times and with that Matthew stopped breathing. It was enough, 149 years was a long time to be forgotten after all.