The reality struck Alfred hard.
His fingers flipped the iron, cold cross over and over in his hand, not sure what to make of it.
Of course he recognized it – it was unmistakable.
It belonged to his ally and mentor during the Revolutionary War. His friend. The one that had made him become more mature, even if only a little bit.
That made him realize how much he longed for freedom.
Prussia.
What was he supposed to do? Sit there and reminisce, or leave the memory-filled storage room and simply forget about it?
~•• ••~
Even leaving the cluttered, attic-like room didn't keep the memories from taking their place in Alfred's mind. He'd tried so vainly to forget, without really meaning to. He'd preoccupy himself with things he would've never done otherwise.
Within a while, Al had trained himself to keep his thoughts entertained on other things, to help him refrain from thinking about the downfall of the once prodigious nation.
And more importantly, how it was partly his fault.
~•• ••~
Author's notes:
Alright, hi, this is Annalee. My first post, so be nice. (: Hope you enjoyed. I think this was a little fast-paced.
If I get enough prompting, critique and encouragement for this story, I'll continue it. I'm only asking for five reviews.