It hurt so badly. It hurt so deeply. It was a pain I had never known and never could have even hoped to imagine.
My heart had been ripped out so horribly and stepped on until it was nothing more than the blood-stained mud I collapsed into.
The rain tried to calm me. It tried to wash away the gore and loss, just like it always did at home. But this wasn't home to me anymore. I could never come back and never see his shining face again. It was too late for me.
How could this have happened to me? What could have possibly gone so wrong that this was our final resort?
He glared down at me. His crystal eyes were half-pitiful and half-hateful. I detested my own weakness for bringing it out in him.
He was the only innocent thing I'd ever known. Ever cared for. My shining jewel amongst a sea of wrong. And here he was. My little lamb, drowning in the black sea.
And it was all my fault.
My poor America. What happened? What happened to us? The tears wouldn't stop flowing. They fell from my eyes as if they too wanted to escape the burden of my company.
It hurt. It was real pain. It was the pain that could fell any man, no matter his size or strength.
"Why," I sobbed. "Dammit why?"
His blue eyes once again filled with sadness.
"You…You know why."
Images. Memories. Brothers walk hand-in-hand down a narrow road. The sun shines down upon them, warming them and breaking loose their smiles. The brothers are so happy, so filled with glee. Both used to be so lonely. So, so lonely.
Except, we were those brothers.
Some brothers we are.
He hates me. He hates hates hates me. I just couldn't understand! I'd never done anything but loved him. Maybe I was a bit demanding or over-protective at times, but did that give him the right to cast me out as if I was last night's dinner scraps?
I didn't think so.
"Please," I begged. "Please don't do this America." I looked up at him, he looked down at me. Our roles were reversed.
I was the small child, staring up in the solemn face of the brother I loved so dearly, so deeply! His blue eyes were blindingly intense in the darkness of our battlefield.
But they had a hard and unforgiving light shining in them. It wasn't the usual jolliness I had become so accustomed too.
He wouldn't give in, I know that. I just didn't want to accept it.
"Look at yourself Britain. What's wrong with you? Why won't you fight?"
A challenge? He had the gall to challenge me now? Right now, after I'd poured my heart out and begged him back. I was willing to do anything, and he wanted a fight?
So be it.
I stood, my legs wobbling and my arms shaking as my hands fumbled to hold the musket straight.
"A fight you say? I'll give you a fight."
I was ready and I was willing. I would take my bullet and go back. Back to my dreary land, alone again. He could shoot me all he wanted, but that pain wouldn't even come within drinking distance of the pain that this loss gave me. His loss.
Imagine having the most dear and treasured prize that you've spent your whole life looking for ripped away from you after only a few meager moments of warm bliss. Your prize was only yours for a second in the minute of the world. It's gone now. Swept away down the river, dead-set on its delightful escape.
But I would let him go in the end. I just didn't have the heart to attempt anymore retaliation. Wouldn't he be happier this way? That's all I wanted. His happiness.
My own could wait.
I would wait for the day he would smile at me again. No matter the pain or sorrow that accompanied the days I'd have to suffer through until that time.
That was my heart's true desire. And that is what I will do.