Fallen (verb): overthrown, destroyed, or conquered: a fallen city.
America was sick.
Very sick. The country was on a downfall for the last ten years, and it continued to get worse, and worse. The United States of America, was falling. Slowly - but it was inevitable, at this point. A country could only do so much to keep his people in line, before things went haywire. At this point, there was nothing left for the American Nation to do, but sit back - and watch himself fall apart.
Alfred F. Jones wasn't sure when it had began, or when it would end. But he knew it was happening. It wasn't sudden, or obvious. Just the slow, transparent weaving of everything he had founded his country on, and everything he wanted it to be - depleting before his eyes. It made Alfred's heart wrench, seeing what it had become. The physical sickness of his country tearing and ripping itself apart, was bearable. But the pain it caused in his mind and heart, he didn't know how to deal with it.
It's not like this hadn't been seen before. No, no, it's happened to many countries. Countries who had gotten in over their heads. Yet, the last time it had happened like this - was the Roman Empire. Alfred wasn't quite sure, if the other countries could tell yet. It wasn't obvious, but it was hinted. Small symptoms of the fatal disease, spreading through the country like a wildfire.
America, was falling.
The recent bosses and government, had been so polluted and toxic to him, and his people - why were they damning him, like this? The people he had so loved, enough to do anything for. The people he would die to protect. They reciprocated by sentencing him to death. Recent generations had abandoned all principles of the American way. That was a myth, now. The American way. His way. Long forgotten, his people didn't even remember who he was. Alfred was being forgotten. His biggest fear; his only fear - was being forgotten. His past, his ways, his principals, his morals. Everything was forgotten. Thrown aside for lying, cheating, stealing, and the idea of self preservation. What ever happened to love, hope, and faith...? Those were three words he couldn't quite remember the meaning to. His people had taken them, slaughtered it, and thrown it back into his face.
The news were flooded with stories. Freedom of religion was none existent. Alfred was a Christian nation. People had forgotten the entire reason he had broken away from England - was freedom of religion. Then why, in the world, were Christians being cast out? Censored? Because their God was 'old-fashioned'? Alfred scoffed at the thought. Was he too old fashioned for his people? Well. They'd soon be without him, anyways. Sinking lower, and lower - it was only a matter of time before he fell.
He'd remembered the moment he'd realized, he was going to die. He saw a story on the news that day, that made his heart stop for a moment. "Students kicked off campus for wearing American flags." It made him sick. His people were offended of their own flag? The symbol of the nation they lived in? The nation that had fought for them? Alfred wanted to cry. He didn't understand it. Why was he being shoved out of his own country? His own self? Each funding principle of the nation had been cut out. His people were taking over. They didn't want America anymore. They wanted something else. And, that something else - meant Alfred was no longer needed. When a nation isn't needed, or wanted, and it's pushed out of itself, how can it be a nation anymore?
England had noticed it first. Arthur. His Arthur, always knew. He'd raised Alfred up, and been with him since the beginning. He'd surely notice his fall. Of course Alfred laughed it off, and consoled him, but - there was no denying it. Alfred didn't think he'd survive more then another fifty years, at this rate. Realistically - less. But he couldn't be for certain. He was going to fall. Die. Be nothing. The thought made him tremble. He was already disappearing. Anyone who looked at the nation could tell. He once used to be the number one country. He'd made himself number one, in less then two hundred years. Soon, he wouldn't even be there anymore.
He'd hoped his people would be happy, when he was gone. It was what they wanted, right? They wanted him out of the picture, now. There was no longer a need for the United States of America. So, the people would have what they want, soon.
America would fall. Just like Rome.
Then again, what was the point...? Why was that a surprise?
He'd already been long forgotten.