I was very pleased to see that Quebec did in fact make a full recovery. He sort of embarrassed me though because when he opened his eyes, every Disney princess I had ever seen came to mind. The long lashed eyes opening slowly, the rest of the face remaining still as if he was still entranced-I'm putting too much though into this, aren't I?

On the other hand, the moment he woke up, he wouldn't SHUT UP. The first thing he said to me when he finally came too was not a "Oh thanks, you saved me" or a "Oh Canada! Why didn't I realize you were actually a good guy and should totally not kill you?"

Yeah, of course he wouldn't say any of that.

He sat up, shaking like a leaf nearly torn from a tree and coughed some more. Quebec glared at me with half lidded dark blue eyes.

"You tried to drown me!" he accused, sputtering from his last coughing fit.

"You tried first...!" I retorted nervously, wondering if he would just reach up and grab my neck. It has happened to me before. Some of the other countries are pretty rough.

To my relief, Quebec grabed the sides of his arms and rolled his eyes. He was wearing a very short sleeved shirt, almost a muscle shirt and it was dark blue with a big white pattern on it. It was from the flag of Quebec, now, what was it called? Wow, no wonder this guy hates me. I don't know the first thing about him! Didn't I in the past?

"That's only because you tried first! What were you thinking you idiot; Plunging your car into the middle of the lake?" He continued to argue, placing his hands back on the grass and trying to get to his feet.

"It was an accident." I explained. "A deer jumped out in front of me in the middle of the street!"

"Well then, you should have been looking where you were going, eh?" he sneered, getting onto all fours and still trying to muster up enough energy to stand.

Ouch.

He was right. I should have been paying closer attention.

"Besides you big wuss, you should have just rammed the deer out of your way." he added, finally standing with a tree as support.

My jaw positively dropped at him.

"I can't kill a deer!" I cried. Not while I'm driving anyway, and I don't hunt anymore, it's unnecessary.

He just laughed jeeringly and pushed of from the tree.

Bad idea on his part.

His body feel back as stiff as a falling tree, right into my arms.

As he made impact, he grunted and his head hit my chest.

Quebec seemed startled and leapt out of my arms.

"I don't need your help you...maudit fif!" he yelled. I had no idea what he just said. It was like all my knowledge on the French language had just left my head. Poof!

Although, I can't imagine he said something very nice.

"Je vais te tuer! You concieted country you! You don't even realize there is a country right before your eyes!"

He gestured to himself and at this point, I just didn't want to argue anymore. For one thing, I could tell there was no winning with this guy, second, time was ticking and I was probably going to miss the entire comedy show.

So I began forward, putting him out of my mind. One big problem though.

I'm as blind as a bat without my glasses. And I don't have echolocation, Last time I checked and I'm not going to check because that would look stupid.

I have no idea how my eye-sight got so bad. It did as I got older I suppose, but even Arthur is older than me and he never wears glasses. It's really disappointing.

"Oh Canada? Your face is burning like your silly flag." Quebec jeered, snapping me back to reality. I jumped slightly and reflex snapped my hand up to my face. I really was burning up, but I wasn't ill so...

Wow, Quebec really embarrassed me. I frowned and felt it burn up more. Why?

I averted my gaze and continued walking through the land of blurs and blobs. It was like walking in one of those microscope slides with a bunch of bacteria. I didn't want to place my hands in front of me to feel my way through the forest, because that too would look stupid.

Suddenly, Quebec pipes up again.

"Looking for these?" He asks, holding up something very blurry. Could it be?

"What is it? I can't see." I ask, doubting he'll tell me. I lean forward for a closer look and he steps back.

"Personal space idiot!" he exclaims, but I see his blurry figure settle. "It is your glasses."

My glasses!

"Quebec, can you please give them back to me?" I plea, reaching forward. He grasps my wrist death-grippingly tight.

"Not until you make me a country." he said coldly, tightening his grasp. I wince and shake slightly over the tightening.

"But that's complete madness! I can't do that!" no matter how much he beats me up and black-mails me, I can't let that happen! I'm not ready for such a big change. Even now, I have no idea why he is here, and it doesn't feel good at all.

"Very well!" Quebec yells jeeringly. "Say a big, 'Au-revoir' to your eyesight!" and I see somthing blurry shoot up our of his arm and up up up into the sky, landing several yards away. I shriek and he lets go of my wrist, throwing my entire arm back to my side before I hear him retreating from the crunching up grass and see the greenery swallow him up. His laughter echoes all around me and I feel intimidated, as if every chuckle and bout could keep me shackled in place.

Now what?

I guess I have no choice; I have to find my glasses.

I have no clue what the best method would be, to be perfectly honest, so I get down on all fours and feel around on the ground in the direction I THINK I saw the glasses fly. But thinking can never as good as knowing.

It is a very tedious process, and I feel like I should be grazing, like a cow. No, I feel even more lowly than that-annndd...I just crawled into something slimy. Please be mud. Just please, for the love that is all good and pure, PLEASE BE MUD. Then, I remember a trick. Now of all times, when my hands and knees are covered in icky stuff. Perfect.

I curl my right hand into a fist and insure there is a little hole for light to peer through. I hold my fist up to my eye and in the little hole, I can see everything clearly.

Well Canada, you've done it again. You've managed to be smart at basically the LAST MINUTE.

So I continue crawling, like a sad impaired dog with only three legs, tottering all over the place. But heck, we all know a three-legged dog could do so much better than I am doing.

At last, I see my glasses, shining in the middle of the forest floor. I sling my hand behind me and scamper forward like a savage that hasn't eaten for days and just as I'm about to reach out and hold the beauty of eye-sight in my hands once more, I am confronted by pure blackness. A beak in my face. The beak opens and a loud CAW shrieks into my ears. I fall back, screaming and watch as the black thing grabs the shining windows of my last remaining hope and flies them up into a nearby tree.

It could be way worse. Yup.

The crow could have flown to a nest miles away. Or maybe this is a mockingbird? I really don't know. The species of this thief doesn't really matter.

I brace myself, because I have no idea what will happen. I'm going to try to climb a tree, basically blind.

Am I crazy? I think I am.

If a Canadian falls out of a tree in the forest alone, does he make a sound? Probably not. Even if there was someone in the forest, no one would notice anyways.

I crawl forward, latch onto the trunk and I try my hardest to shimmy up, but I'm shaking all over and I can't get a grip on this thing. Maybe if I took a run at it...but that would be dangerous without my glasses. I probably have only one option.

"Q-quebec! Help me!" I cry out. I have no idea where he wandered off to, and I'm worried about what he has to say.

"If I help you, will you give me what I want?"

I hear his voice, but I don't see him. It sounds like its coming from up above me. He's probably in the tree. Maybe he's been waiting there the entire time, like a ninja.

"Are we going back to the whole 'my own country thing'? Because you should know that I wouldn't be permitted to do that...Brittan would not like it..." I gave him a most awkward smile, unsure of what he was going to say next.

An then, he surprised me.

"I don't care what Brittan says! You aren't HIS country, okay? You aren't anyone's country, okay?" he spoke down at me. There was truth to that. Rather, a lot of truth. While I love all the other countries, even though they never let me input, I'm an independent nation.

"I mean," continues Quebec. "I see America push you around all the time, when and only when he notices you! Constantly asking favours and to borrow money-"

"And eating everything in my fridge. Yes, I get it. But we're allies. We're supposed to support each other!"

"Well? Does he support you in return?" Quebec asked.

The big question. I stared up at him, or at least where I thought he was.

"Well...I would ask more if he wasn't so...scary..." I admitted. "I don't really want to burden him eigther..."

"Un oeil pour un oeil!" Quebec cried. "If he burdens you, you should burden him back, oui?"

I blinked blindly at him. "I don't tend to follow that rule...but America...he's...well he's..."

The blob that was Quebec shifted slightly on the branch. "Oui? Spit it out!"

"He's blood thirsty! I'm so scared of him! If I contradict him too harshly, he'll decapitate me and feed my head to...to eagles!"

"Nonsense!" Quebec said.

"Yes sense! Have you seen what he has done before?" I retorted immediately. Quebec really didn't understand!

Quebec leapt down from the tree all of a sudden, landing in front of me. I screeched and fell back onto my butt again and stared up at his looming figure.

"Don't you remember what you have done before? As much as you'd like to believe it Canada, you aren't innocent." He said very seriously. Quebec tossed something onto my shirt. "Stand up. Think about it, eh?"

I grasped the object and ran my fingers over it. My glasses!

I placed them on my face and Quebec's grave expression came to view, his shades showing two small versions of myself, staring up.

"Remember the past Mathieu. You fought a lot. You fought for other countries, and you fought for yourself." he finished, still staring at me.

I got to my feet and looked him in the eye.

"I fought and hurt a lot of people. I still regret that." I confessed.

"That's no reason to be pushed around." he retorted. "When you get back to that comedy show, you are going to MURDER everyone with your comedy skills!"

A whimper escaped me. "How do you even murder someone with comedy...?"

"Anything is possible Canada. Anything is possible." he said solemnly and stepped backwards into the forage, his arms and eventually his stone cold and creepy expression being swallowed up. And then he was gone.

"Murder people with comedy...? Seriously?" I just stared in the direction of his awkward exit. "Oh, I guess he just means defeat."

Quebec sure was a weird guy, and for whatever reason, he believed in me. That was most surprising.

I got to my feet and continued walking through the forest. I passed many trees, landmarks that seemed the same and the same pile of rocks 5 times. Man, I'm disoriented today! I thought about how I might just wander through this forest for weeks on end. Be that the case, I might as well make the best of it. I tuned into my senses, closed my eyes and wandered blindly through the forest. The smells and sounds all became gradually clearer, rising like a symphony. The smell of wild flowers curled in the air, smelling sweet and pleasant. Up in the trees, hundreds of birds called off from far and wide and I could hear the thrust of their wings as they took to the air, each feather brushing on one another. The wind hissed through the trees, setting the leaves a-dancing. I heard more hissing, and...Thumping?

*SLAM*

I had opened my eyes way too late and walked right into a pole. I felt it vibrate like a music tuner and I stumbled back, almost falling back into the forage, my nose gushing blood. I rubbed my hands against my face and the blood smeared. A moan escaped me like a ghost and I got to my feet, grasping the pole with my warm wet blood covered hands. Gasping, I held my hand over my nose and looked up. I could tell that my eyes were widening to their extent.

By some dumb luck, I had stumbled out of the forest into civilization and then, sadly, into a pole. And right in front of me was the arts building. The exact building where I was to do my comedy show.

I wish I could have seen what I looked like as I scampered across the street like a nut-case, laughing all the way. The world shook and when I got to the other side, I bolted to the back door entrance and opened it wide with a swing of my arm. At last!

"WHAT YEAR IS IT?" I yelled, launching myself into the back-stage area. I grabbed the shirt of the first person I saw and grinned at him eagerly, perhaps, too eagerly. The person shrieked and tried to pull

"GERMANY! GERMANY! I couldn't find my seat and now some maniac is man-handling me and his face is all bloody and he's probably a canibal GERMANYYY!"

"Augh!" I exclaimed, comming to my senses, I let go of his shirt and dropped my hands. I had gone right up to and grabbed Italy by the collar. I'll tell you, it gave me memories...probably everyone in the course of history has beat up Italy. Poor guy...

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it I just..." I began and started laughing nervously backing away.

"Who even are you? I've never seen you before!" he cried out.

Oh, that question again...

"I'm Canada..." I say quietly yet again. Maybe I should start counting how often I say it...

Italy didn't stick around long and went off yelling and flailing his arms at full speed.

"Oh dear..."

"To answer your question, it's the year 2012."

I straightened up at the voice and looked over.

Arthur was standing there in his usual casual sweater-vest, watching me quietly.

"Oh...I actually meant to ask what the time is, I went a little nutty because I-"

I didn't continue because he cut me off.

"It's nearly 10 'O hundred hours."

There was a long and windy silence.

Yes, I know we're indoors.

"So...I'm not late...?" I asked, staring at him with disbelieving eyes. Wasn't I in the forest for at least an hour? Either I passed through a time rift or I'm going insane.

Going insane sounds good.

"No, but I suggest you arrive earlier next time." Brittan advised. "And clean yourself up. You look like a bloody nutcase!"

I started laughing again. "Oh haha, I get it I'm acutally litterally bloody but you're just using the term...bloody...when you're..." I slowed down gradually, realising he wasn't laughing along with me. "...cursing..."

He stared at me with his eyes somewhat narrowed, un-amused.

In an attempt to break this awkwardness, I gave a little cough as I cleared my throat.

"Well then...I'll just...you know...get cleaned up...un-bloody myself...haha..."

He kept staring. I kind of wanted to punch that stare in the face.

Instead, I just turned on my heel and walked down the hallway.

If he doesn't find me funny, how will anyone else? Am I really as funny as I think I am? Can I really do this?

Things were looking bleak.

I reached my dressing room and opened the door. I stopped right there. It was just a fake door. There was no room behind it, just more stage and some additional make-up tables where a few people were sitting.

I was supposed to have a dressing room...wasn't I?

At that moment I heard the un-mistakable laughter of my brother. He walked by where the rows of cosmetic tables ended, wearing a long robe covered in stars like a night sky drawn by a 5 year old. Alfred had dollar bills stuffed into the belt of the robe in a green leafy jungle and a little entourage followed him like baby ducks following their mother. The smallest woman held up a hamburger to him and he grinned grabbing it away from her and passing her some of the money from his belt. At last he noticed me and turned his head over with his mouth full and waved ecstatically.

"OH HEY BRO! I bought your dressing room to use it as my special hang out pad before the show! Hope you don't mind!"

He gulped the mouthful down and began laughing and waving as he continued passing like some regal prince or queen, minus the grace that is. As he passed, I saw one of the stars unstick and fall to the ground. Behind it was a maple-leaf. The original pattern of the robe.

I simply sat down in the first empty chair I could find, looked in the mirror at my bloody, cannibal-like face; as Italy had suggested it appeared which I agree with now, my messy hair filled with tree branches, and my tired eyes...

Slowly, I lowered my head down onto the table until I heard a small thump and pressure on my forehead.

There I wanted to sit for the rest of my life.

Hello one and all and thanks for subscribing to my story and reading my chapters! I really appreciate it.

I wanted to finish this story for Canada day, but as long as I finished it in this week, it's still sort of symbolic. I hope all my American readers had a great Independence Day! You celebrate hard-core, I'm told. By the way, I don't think Canada is the best country in the world, in fact, no country is. Yes, not even America, sorry guys haha, but you know, every country has the good and the bad and we celebrate these days for the positives and battles won, giving our country glory. I love my country and I love other countries too.

Again, I hope I'm not being too stereotypical. Quebec is hard to portray because all I know is there is a lot of tension between Quebec and the rest of Canada and the tension goes way way back in time to when Canada was first discovered.

This story is probably a one-shot, and the next chapter may or may not be the last. If I have a lot of support or requests, I might continue the story from there but this is all I first intended to do. I don't usually write short stories, but it's a good pass-time~

Thanks again and happy Independence and Canada day!~