Run, run, run away

Buy yourself another day

Cold wind's whispering

Secrets in your ear

So low only you can hear

Hmmmmm

Alfred happily ran through the woods in Virginia. The trees were casting shadows, so it made the woods colder than usual. He wasn't scared though. Alfred loved this solitude. He missed Arthur a lot, but he still never understood why Arthur was so strict with him.

He leaned up against the tree, allowing the wind to play with his dark blonde hair. The sun was setting, and the wind was picking up. Thoughts came into his mind. What if he wasn't with Arthur? What if he was all by himself? Would he make it?

The wind whistled, and he continued to ponder these questions. It seemed the more he thought about it, the harder the wind blew. The wind was his best friend at the moment, conversing with him while Arthur was not there.

Run, run, run and hide

Somewhere no one else can find

Tall trees bend their leaves

Pointing where to go

Where you will still be all alone

Two years passed and it was 1776. Alfred had just finished watching his fellow soldiers and colonists sign the Declaration of Independence. He went back to the same exact woods that gave him the inspiration to become free from Arthur. He wasn't so sure that he liked this. The lonely feeling gave him shivers and goose bumps, like paranormal activity was about him.

While he trudged through the dark, dark woods, a branch came out in front of him. It caused the American to jump backwards a bit. The leaves were all pointing down on it. He looked at them, where he saw a musket. A newly developed musket was just lying on the forest grounds. He knew what that meant. War.

Should he trust nature? Would it really be correct in his pathway of life? Alfred took it in his hands. It felt perfect. And finally, the woods abandoned him.

Don't you fret my dear

It will all be over soon

Alfred's men cheered. They had just won the Revolution. They were all free. But Alfred's pain in his stomach was regretful. He didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted Arthur to leave now. He never wanted to see the Brit again. When would the pain end?

Alfred silently snuck away from his men. He made it into the woods. It took him several minutes to walk to the tree without stepping on something that would attract attention, like a small branch.

His ears perked up when he heard the silent sound of laughter. He remembered Arthur's laugh. Only had he heard it when he was young, and it was quite frequent. But then the laughter changed to sobbing. He saw Arthur, sitting there, bawling his eyes out with his knees drawn up to his chest. He was picking little violets out of the ground, throwing the purple delicates down once they were in his hand.

"America," Arthur said, not knowing that Alfred was actually right there. "No matter how much you think of me, don't worry. I'll be waiting here for you."

Then Alfred realized that he was alone. Alone, free, and pained, because he would never have the same connection with Britain that he did before. It was dissolved into dust and thin air, leaving no trace behind. Gone.