Texas was going insane. America had left for a month-long world conference the day before, and had left DC in charge. The only problem with that? DC was the type of person who liked to make unreasonable rules. A lot of them. So, the first thing DC did when America had left, was create a rule-book.
At first, the rules were okay. Things like no fighting at the dinner table (Maryland was probably thankful that he knew he wouldn't get killed by Texas's gun). Massachusetts may be a technological genius, but he was the type of person to burn water in the kitchen (In other words, he cooked worse than England).
That's what got Massachusetts banned from the kitchen in the first place. He had tried to make tea, but had ended up blowing up the microwave, setting the tea on fire in the process. So, those rules, Texas could understand.
Then the rules started getting ridiculous. No leaving the room before 10:30 AM, no tricks or practical jokes at all. Texas was an early riser by nature, and the inability to do anything and have to waste so much of the day was an atrocity to her. And for practical jokes, how was she supposed to get back at New York saying that she needed to get a sense of fashion!?
So, now Texas was severely annoyed. The Confederacy and the Union were exempt from all the rules (the lucky sods!), since they were 'older' then D.C. That, and every state, city, and their sisters knew that you did not try to make the Confederacy and the Union follow the rules. Trying to would result in a dictionary to the head, and Confederacy going all Civil War on the person who tried.
Things were getting really out of hand. The rules were becoming outright absurd. They had to pay D.C for breaking the rules, they had a *beep* UNIFORM. And to add insult to injury, the uniform was a black polo short-sleeve shirt, and a knee length hot. Pink. SKIRT! SHE DIDN'T WEAR SKIRTS! OR PINK! OR ANY AND ALL OF THE ABOVE!
Forget annoyed, Texas was downright furious. She had attempted to call Rhode Island and Alaska to plot, but apparently, D.C had the phones bugged. Needless to say, Texas had her phone confiscated, and she was locked in her room.
The brunette fumed for about an hour, before realising that she should be working on a way to get out of her room, and stop cursing the living daylights of whatever god that found amusement in her predicament.
Texas scanned the simple room. The familiar sight that washed over her eyes comforted the girl. The old queen sized bed, covered in red, white, and blue, the well worn dresser, which, Texas knew, was filled to the brim with equally worn out jeans, plaid shirts, and her brown jacket, similar to her dad's, except that hers didn't have sleeves. The walls were painted with her flag, standing out against the worn furniture, as it looked as bright and vibrant as the day it was first painted.
Texas knew that she wouldn't be able to escape, just as well as she knew her name was Rachel Independence Jones. The door? It was locked, and most likely guarded, so she couldn't shoot the lock. That would result in her locked back up in her room, with heightened security, and worst of all, with out her gun. The wall? The only reason that wouldn't work, is that she had nothing to break the wall down with. Then there was the window. She was about two stories above the ground, and lassos could only be made to be so long. She wasn't about to break her neck trying to escape. She wasn't that desperate. Yet.
But until she went insane with cabin-fever, the only place she was running to, or rather into, was the wall. Everyone who knew her though, could attest to a single fact. If Texas set her mind to something, seven words describe her. Hell hath no fury that would stop her. It was scary, really. If held back, the Texan would go psychotic, and no one wants to be anywhere near a psychotic girl, much less a psychotic girl with a gun and the knowledge to use it.
Texas flopped onto her bed, and stared at the star-spangled ceiling, mind blank. Suddenly, she jumped up from her fluffy, soft comforter, and dashed to the dresser. Instead of opening the drawers, she kneeled down, right in-front of the dresser, and searched for the floorboard that had a carving of a horse on it, and paused in fond remembrance.
She had been a newly formed state, and America had found her in the middle of Austin, in a rodeo. He nearly had a seizure when he realised that the girl in the rodeo was Texas. After it was over, he had sprinted to her, and picked her up. She was only a little girl, but she still scratched, bit, and kicked America in a hopeless effort to get him to put her down. Still, when they got far enough away from the city, America sat her down and explained to her that the reason she had stayed young for so long, was because she was the personification of Texas, just as he was the personification of America. He had offered her a place to call her own, with siblings and a parent to care for her. That certainly beat living in the dusty desert, wondering if she would eat that night or not. The minute she was introduced to her family, and given her room, she searched for a pliable floorboard, and found one, near where the window met the wall. She carved a horse into the wood to mark it, using Delaware's Swiss Army Knife to do so. The little girl had figured that since the nice man who said he was her Papa said that she could do whatever she wanted with her room. Needless to say, America used the dresser to cover up the carving, but Texas could still find it.
She winced slightly as the wood pinched her fingers. Age had done nothing to improve the pliability of the wood. She had to be careful not to snap it, because otherwise, America would kill her. If he even noticed, that is. The brunette couldn't blame her dad, she knew. He had over 50 states and territories to look after. And that wasn't including the cities, towns, and regions. So, it was understandable that he would have his hands full with the others. Besides, the last time Texas actually had the time to talk to America, it ended up badly. With a capitol "B". She wasn't on good terms with America since the time she had tried to declare her independence.
She finally pried up the wood plank, and pulled out a ageing sheet of parchment. Texas wrinkled her nose at the state of the paper. Making a mental note to replicate it onto her I-phone later, she carefully unfolded the fragile parchment on her star-spangled rug. The memories of exploring the house blossomed in her mind. The creaky old house that they lived in was riddled with hidden passage-ways, probably because America (That was sad. She couldn't even call America her Papa!) had watched the "Three Musketeers" one too many times, or this was his apocalypse back up plan. Either way, Alaska, New York, Hawaii, Michigan, and her knew these passages back to front! She could use it as an escape route. The plan: Use the Passage, Get the siblings, And Then Use Alaska's plane to get them Out of The House. UPGSATUAPGT for short. Texas grinned. This was going to be, as Pennsylvania would say, AWESOME!
