The angry preteen sighed as he trudged through the thick brush. Alfred, or more known as America, was in a bad mood. England promised he would be back first thing in the morning and that was three days ago! Alfred went out here to think, it seemed to be the only non-stressful place he knew.
It was beautiful. Just a huge, wide open space covered in knee-high prairie grass. There were some random trees here or there, Alfred was heading to the nearby creek up ahead. He could see the shiny flecks of light reflecting from the clear water.
The young boy was almost to his favorite spot, a boulder shaded by a giant tree, when he heard the snap of a twig. The blonde turned, his blue eyes narrowed. If anyone even thoughtof settling here, he would pick their covered wagon and through it right back to Europe. This was the only place England hadn't come and built a colony on top of.
After a few moments of silence, Alfred shrugged and went on his way. He soon found the boulder by the creek, the tree casting it into a cool shadow. The preteen climbed on top of the gigantic rock and stretched out on his back. The quiet sounds of rustling leaves and trickling water made all of his worries seemingly disappear. But it was shattered by the sound of scuffling feet above him.
Alfred looked up to nothing but a branch bobbing up and down. The blond quirked an eyebrow and stood up. He grabbed the nearest branch and began to climb. As he got higher, he soon saw a pair of small feet. They were covered by white, now turned brown from dirt, booties. Alfred was about to call up to the child but before he could, the branch that held the feet broke and small legs began to kick wildly through the air. Alfred reached up and grabbed the small waist of the child, pulling it towards him.
He blinked as he held the little girl. She had big, dark hazel eyes. Her dark brown hair was cut very short, one odd piece stuck up and curled slightly just like his. She blinked at him and asked, "Who're you?"
"I'm Alfred! Well, technically I'm America."
"I'm Lexi, but people call me New York!" New York grinned and held out a hand to the older boy. America smiled back and shook it.
Then, he realized something, "Dude! That makes you my little sister!"
"Awesome!"
"Sweet! I always wanted a younger sibling! Come on! You can live with me and Iggy!"
New York laughed as the excited blond jumped off the tree and ran home, carrying her every step of the way.
~Few Years Later~
Time passed. America's loneliness was almost non-existant thanks to his little sister. New York liked England, he was nice and he would sing his weird songs as he (attempted) to cook. But she didn't like the way he would leave for weeks on end without warning. America and England fought a lot more often now, mostly about taxes and imports.
Today, New York heard England and America going at it again. A door slammed and the brunette quietly slipped out of her room. Her bared feet padded down the stairs and she saw America sitting, slumped over, on the couch.
(This part was written by New York herself)
The young girl looked up at her brother who had been holding his head in his hands.
"What's wrong America?" She asked, her dark, hazel eyes filled with concern. He quickly retracted, picked up his little sister and put her next to him on the couch, wrapping an arm around her.
"Nothin'. Just...Well, you know how me and England have been arguing?" The sixteen year old asked.
"Yeah?"
"Now...We're not going to be brothers anymore. I'm fighting so we can be independent." He said, knowing she had to know.
The seven year old frowned. She looked out the window, it started to rain. Hard.
"Why? Is he still mad that I got chocolate on his coat?" She asked. America laughed. His sister always knew how to make him feel better.
"Nah. It's me this time." America paused. Then sighed, "Look, I know this is gonna be hard for ya, but you're strong." He smiled.
She smiled back and asked, "Can I still talk to Quebec?"
America laughed, "'Course!"
She laughed along with him.
~A Week or So Later~
America had left for war. New York walked into town. It was sunny and bright outside. She looked at the 'headlines', that's what she called them anyway. In big, bold letters they read, "WE'RE GOING TO WAR!" Many villagers greeted her as she walked over to an apple tree. She loved apples, so sweet and crunchy, the flowers that grew on the trees were pretty too.
"THERE YOU ARE!" She heard a familiar voice call. New York turned to see London run up to her.
"What?" She asked, eating the apple.
"How could you let your git of a brother go to war?!" London yelled. New York raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't ask him to." She said, finishing her food.
"I don't care! Make him stop, this will ruin our economy!" London said, trying to intimidate her. But alas, even though she was nine, she was still shorter.
"All ya care about is the economy and how powerful you are." New York replied, almost yelling.
"Don't change the subject! Your brother is ruining us! Stop that cunt or I will!" London said.
New York's eyes widened before glaring at the capital. Calling her brother a horrible name like that! London's dead meat.
"He's the cunt?! YOUR brother's the one taxing us, restricting our freedom, and judging us on the side! That bastard is gonna get it now!" She yelled. London's eyes widened.
New York pointed to the prior, "Now get outta my country!"
London walked away, doing what she was asked. New York sighed, she thought of America.
"If you're gonna fight, I'm gonna fight."
~8 Years Later, End of the War~ (I'm writing this part )
"Are ya sure about this New York? You can't back out once we're out there." America said, looking at his little sister. Both Americans were dressed in blue military uniforms.
New York nodded and said, "I want us to become independent. I want us to be remembered as the awesome nation that won its independence from England."
America smiled and said, "Then let's finish this."
The two walked out of the military tent, side by side. America was soon whisked away to help command the troops. New York ran through the battlefield, fighting and dodging bullets while releasing some of her own.
As she ran, memories began to replay in her mind. Memories of when she first met England, of how she used to use England's scones to skip across the lake, of how when she first met London and she instantly annoyed her, of how her and America would plan pranks on England. Memories of her, America, England, and London being a family.
She knew this war would change everything. Whether they would win or lose, if the change would be good or bad, she didn't know, but she was certain nothing would be the same. If they lost, England will probably tax them even higher as punishment and restrict their freedoms even further. But, this fear went away as she thought of how much would be gained if she and America were a country. They will win the war, they will become independent, and they will so the world how much they have to offer.
"You!"
New York skid to a halt and whipped around to see London. Her red uniform was covered in mud, her once tidy ponytail was spilling out weaves of hair, her light hazel eyes were filled with anger and what looked like...betrayal.
The Brit let out a yell and charged at New York with all her might. New York dodged her and slammed the blunt end of her rifle into London's side. London gasp as the air was knocked out of her, but quickly regained her balance.
She charged at New York once again. This time, when New York dodged, she slashed London's abdomen with her knife. The Brit grunted and held her stomach, the jagged tear began to bleed heavily.
In their fighting, they hadn't even noticed the emotional scene playing out beside them.
A growling yell pierced the air,
"I WON'T ALLOW IT!"
New York and London frozen as the heard something thump to the ground. They looked to see England pointed a gun right in America's face.
New York's heart stopped. 'No...No, no! He can't! Not after everything we've been through! I don't care if we lose! I don't care if we go back to the way things used to be! Please! Just don't shoot him!These thoughts buzzed in New York's head as her eyes flicked back forth between America and England.
And to both New York's and London's amazement, England dropped his gun. They watched as the once great empire crumbled to his knees and held his tear-streaked face in his hand. They then heard those heartbreaking words,
"Your used to be...so great."
London slowly backed away from New York, then bolted to her grief stricken brother. London's eyes filled with tears as she knelt next to her brother and asked, "H-How did this h-happen?...I thought...we..."
She couldn't finish, she started sobbing too hard. England pulled her into a tight hug as they both grieved at their loss.
America watched the two for a moment before looking to New York. Realization lit up both pairs of eyes.
They won.
They weren't a colony any more.
They didn't belong to England.
They were a country.
An independent nation.
They were...
Free.