May 5, 1865 A.D, 26 days after General Robert E. Lee's surrender of the Confederate Armies.
"You know what you have to do . . . Carry it out."
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A young woman was limping across a cotton field, once worked on by African slaves who fled when the Emancipation Proclamation was announced. She was wearing her standard grey Confederate uniform, stained with blood run dry many days ago. Her neck long blonde hair was dirty and stuck together, hinting that she hadn't cleaned herself in a long time. Her eyes were slightly sunken and skin a little pale, but her natural beauty still radiated if she didn't look so forlorn.
Amelia F. Jones, the Confederate States of America, was at a loss. The Union forced the best military mind, General Robert E. Lee, to surrender to Grant's forces. Jefferson Davis was captured. The South's infrastructure was deteriorating and its armies disbanded, she could feel the strength leaving her body. It hurt to stand, much less walk.
But she didn't know what else to do, she knew she had lost and after leaving Richmond decided to just wander across the abandoned fields of the South's famed agrarian industry.
So many young boys who worked the fields have died. . .
She didn't know how long she had left either. She suspected she'll probably join those young boys somewhere, the same men she fought side by side with for an ideal that died with the resistance. Damn it all! Damn Lincoln and the ever controlling Congress!
The sound of clopping on dirt told her a rider was approaching. Amelia turned and her heart quickened. Approaching fast, in blue Union uniform, was Alfred in the flesh, his horse parting the clouds of cotton. She could see the hardness in his eyes. She made no attempt to flee as the horse circled around in front of her.
The glassless Alfred looked down upon her from his elevated height on horseback, then spoke emotionlessly. "Where do you think you're going?"
The glass wearing Amelia glared up and replied in her rich Southern accent. "Somewhere neither of us'll imagine. I'd reckon you're here to finish the job." Her voice cracked on the last sentence.
The Yankee nodded with a cold professionalism, then pulled out his revolver and pointed at her forehead. Amelia stared at the darkness of the gun's barrel for a few seconds. She lowered her head, her hair obscuring her face. Slowly, her body began racking as tears flowed down her face.
"It's ain't fair, Alfred. It just ain't! Why can't you just let me go?" She looked up to face him with glassy eyes. "Why must you always enforce control?!"
Alfred lowered his revolver as Amelia continued. "I, no we, seceded to protect the right of the states!" She pointed at his face. "Your legislation, your Congress, was getting too powerful for our own good. We seceded because the contract that held this union was canceled when your government failed to respect our rights. There's no point in being a part of something that will lock me in chains, don't you understand this, Alfred?"
Said man, dismounted. "Your rebellion started this war, the point of our Union was to make decisions so that the country as a whole would prosper in its welfare. The deaths of all those people were unnecessary, the states should've stayed to work something out."
"Don't talk to me like you know something all high and mighty. The end of slavery mean the end of our way of life, it's an important part of our economy. And those Yankees up north didn't give a damn about it, they didn't give us a say in office; they might as well wanted to chop off our tongues."
Alfred was incensed, "It was about time we ended the old institution that marks a dark stain on the freedom of the United States. Every other nation has abolished it and agreed on one thing. Slavery is wrong, Amelia!"
"So is the unfairness of the legislation that the Northern states can dictate whatever they want over the South. What will happen to us when not only slavery is abolished, but our other rights are put at risk! Remember why we revolted from Britain, no taxation without representation, we weren't represented at all!"
"The states joined in the union and we all agreed on the Constitution, it was a mutual agreement and it was fair that the votes were made. You can't just turn your back on it and declare a war."
At this point, Amelia gave up trying to argue. Her weary will broke and she couldn't hold back anymore. She took hold of his left hand with both hands and sobbed. "You think you're a hero? You don't understand my plight, what I'm going through! I just wanted my voice to be heard, and that you would listen to what I have to say. Don't my opinions matter?"
Alfred was struggling to maintain his demeanor. His hero self crumbled in pity over this girl who had lost everything to fight for something she believed in, just as the U.S before them had done against Britain. If only it had been for a better cause. It had been a sad rainy day to see Arthur cry; now he was seeing the same thing before his eyes on a sunny Southern day. Wanting to ease her pain, Alfred pulled her into a hug with his held hand, which snaked around her waist and held her close.
Amelia blushed lightly, and cried into the warmth of his uniform. Her arms pulled herself closer to his chest, trying to drown her sorrows in his comfort. Despite being on opposing sides, Amelia always knew Alfred to be a kind and caring person outside politics and had grown a fondness for him since the day she jumped ship. Relishing this bittersweet moment, she tried to forget about the hard ordeals from her first few years as a nation. Perhaps she still had a chance.
"I'm sorry for doing this to y'all. Perhaps we can start anew, Alfred?"
Alfred chuckled, a slight smile to his face, but he couldn't keep the momentary mask of light-heartedness on. "If only that was the case."
The words didn't even register in Amelia's mind. Red started pouring out of her mouth and mixed with her transparent tears. Alfred removed the glasses from her face and placed it back onto his. She stepped back from their embrace, a bayonet having been shoved through her gullet by Alfred's right hand. He stared with a pained expression as Amelia registered his sneak attack. She fell to her knees.
"You know. . . I had planned to just. . ." She hacked out blood. "Secede and establish an independent country, separate from yours. I had hoped. . . that we could have made up, that we could have been a thing." She closed her eyes, trying to block out the cold feeling threatening to take over. "I always admired you for your bravery in battle and innocence in life. I liked you for having fun and enjoying life. Yes. . . I remember all the things we did when we were one. It's. . . a shame that it had to come to this, really. . ."
Alfred's killing fist clenched. "I knew how you felt, it only made fighting and ending you much harder than I imagined." He lowered to her level on one knee; his own eyes were becoming foggy. "I'm sorry."
Amelia chuckled, her sparkling sapphire eyes fixed on his. "I understand what you had to do, please don't think too much about what has happened today, it wipes the smile off that purdy face of yours." The darkness closed on her mind. "I have all of our memories since we existed, but it feels as if I lived for only a few years. Is. . . this a life worth fighting for? It's too painful. . . and too cold to bear. I want to leave this world. . ." She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Goodbye Alfred."
He looked into her eyes, the sapphires seemed to go dark before the lids closed on them. Amelia fell back and landed softly in the cotton plants, her golden hair resting softly on the white and green. She looked as if she was resting, and simply taking a nap on the clouds.
Thus was the dissolution of the Confederate States of America.
Alfred can feel his strength returning to him now that the United States was reunited, but then a sickness came over him. He felt invigorated yet weakened at the same time. The Southern half was still in some resistance despite being reabsorbed back into the union.
He was also overwhelmed by a massive surge of memories flowing into his brain. He grabbed his skull as the pain erupted in his head. New memories, Amelia's memories, he was trying to process them all at once. Every battle, sorrow, horrors of the war on the Southerners, all from Amelia's perspective, became his memories now. The pain lasted for a minute as his brain finished soaking in all of this information. He fell to his knees and cried over the conclusion of the American Civil War.
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"Ah, Alfred! Have you finished the job? You'll have to hurry nowadays because we have a country to reorganize. Damn Confederates."
A distraught Alfred grabbed Andrew Johnson by the collar and lifted him up with his great strength. His face was the expression of pain and fury, though not at the 17th president of the United States. His blue gaze burned through Johnson's skull, and through clenched teeth, he spoke.
"You and everyone in the damned legislature will promise me. . . we will NEVER have to go through this again. The people and I have seen enough and we will work so that there will never be another Civil War! Do you understand me!?" His voice had risen.
Sure that the whole White House heard his outbreak, he dropped the president onto the floor, who was shaken at seeing the young nation erupt so harshly. Wasn't the war already over? What was America so upset about?