America woke with a start. Looking at his calendar, he smiled.

"4th of July...IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! I GOTTA GO INVITE EVERYONE!" America cheered. He dashed downstairs and opened up his laptop. He opened up his email and sent Italy, Germany, Japan, France, China, Russia, England and others the same email. He had to think twice about England. Everyone knew he hated the 4th of July, and he threw a fit everytime the fireworks were lit. America shrugged.

"The more, the merrier!" He chimed. He clicked send, and the email was sent to England's computer.

England groaned when the sound of his dinging computer aroused him from his slumber. He dragged himself out of bed and opened up his email. Typical America. He had sent him another email. The email read:

"England:

Dude, you're totally coming to my birthday party, right?! If you don't, I'll TP your house and egg your driveway! ~America"

England reread the email over and over again. It was America's birthday, and to save his poor house from America's toilet paper, he'd have to attend his party. England hated the 4th of July more than any day of the year. Instead of replying, England deleted the email and crawled back under the covers. He didn't want to see America, or anyone for that matter. He wanted the day over.

"England, you made it! Where's my present?" America whined. England glared at the country, and picked up a rock.

"Here you go. Happy birthday. Now, bugger off." England scoffed. America cradled his rock in his arms.

"Gee, thanks, Iggy, I'll cherish it forever." America said sarcastically. England turned the other way.

"Can I go home now?" He begged. America shook his head.

"If you leave, I TP your house. I made it clear in the email, right?" He clarified. England scowled and entered the house.

America's house was fairly large, with American flags hung around for decoration. He had picture frames,each of them portraits of famous U.S. presidents. England glared at the portrait of George Washington, and continued exploring. His house wasn't a mess, but it wasn't tidy either, with dirty socks here and there. The TV was set on a football game, and the radio was blasting out popular hits from 2012. England grimaced. He couldn't stand it there. He felt like he would snap being at the party for much longer. He closed his eyes as memories flooded into his head.

The year was 1776, and England had received a mysterious document, which had been sent from his little brother, America. He went to the king, and they read it together.

"When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."

As England read it, he knew what was happening. America wanted to declare his independence. His hands began to shake as he read, his little brother was turning against him! England didn't know whether to be angry, or saddened, or both. It was obvious that the king was furious. He ranted through the halls, shouting how America was "going traitor" and "how we won't allow this" and etcetera. All England could do was stare at the piece of paper he held in his hands.

Rereading the last paragraph was torture to his eyes. He wanted to scream. He was just as furious as the king. Tears fell from his eyes as he crushed the paper in his hands.

"You want to be independent, huh? Well, good luck. If you want independence, you'll get war with it!"

England remembered the first time he had ever read the Declaration of Independence, and the same rage was building up as it did centuries ago. It was hard, having so many pitiful memories flushed into your brain at once. It hurt.

In 1781, in the city of Yorktown, England and his army were on the brink of defeat. The cold rain didn't do much to cease the clashes between the brothers, and the battle had come to a pause as America spoke.

"England, All I want is my freedom! I'm not a little kid anymore, and I'm not your little brother either! From now on, consider me independent!" America had called. America's soldiers had waved their flags and cheered for America's motivation speech, and England was sick of it. Musket in his arms, he charged at his little brother, successfully knocking America's gun out of reach, leaving him disarmed. With a gun aiming at America's head, England had began to plead.

"You idiot, you need me! I know you do!" He cried. England had dropped the musket, causing America to look up in surprise. England fell to his knees, and burst into tears.

"I can't do it. I just can't shoot you." England sobbed. He covered his face in shame and sobbed as America turned.

"England...you used to be so great." America said as he left. He and his men had left England, all alone, sobbing in the storm. England had no other choice. America had won.

"DON'T YOU BLOODY LEAVE ME, WANKER!" England shouted. America, who was startled, almost lit his finger on fire. He was lighting the fireworks, and he didn't know why he got startled every time. He knew this was England's breaking point every year. Everyone stared at England, who was crying. America then remembered seeing England cry that day, and he sighed.

"England, come on. You need to let it go." America said. England responded with violent sobbing. He stood up.

"That's it. *sniff* I'm g-going home. *sob*" England cried. He stormed out of the gates, and into the darkness. America dropped his lighter and chased after him. England was soon captured in America's grip.

"England, don't be such a baby. Regardless of what I said, you're always my big brother." America said. England was silenced by those words as he turned to meet America. England sniffed and choked on his words.

"R-really?" He asked. America nodded.

"Uh huh. Now let's go light some wicked fireworks that I got in Mexico!" America cheered. He dashed back into his backyard, and surprisingly, England followed.

"Maybe this isn't such a terrible holiday after all."

~End.