None of America's memories bothered me that night. As I slept I dreamt of home, of mom outside the door, hair tucked behind her ears, holding the boxes of lunch for me and Matthew. I dreamt of Matthew taking it and hugging her and heading off down the road. I saw myself forget she was even there in my rush to take the meal and run off after my brother.

And then I turned and saw her soft smile change into a worried frown as she looked at me. I found myself going back to her as she held out a hand and touched my face and kissed my forehead.

"I am going to miss you. But you were never mine anyway."

I looked up at her, gasping. And as I awoke to the sounds of a rooster crowing – honestly, I thought I had gotten away from the damn roosters. Arthur was too old-fashioned – I had one thought. She knew.

She knew who I was, what I was and never told me. And now that I thought about it I had always seen it in her eyes. That sort of distant sadness whenever she looked at me. Like she was mourning the normal child she could have had. Not a dead nation.

I shakily got out of bed and stared out the window of my room. Arthur had said we were starting today. I had to focus on that. After all I had promised that I would do the right thing this time. That I would become America.

Moving to the dresser, I decided to try and find the shirt and pants I had come in. But no such luck. The wardrobe had the oddest clothing. Things I had seen in the memories. Vests and boots and button up shirts. I had a brief moment of surprise and elation, going through the things and experiencing the memories that went with each article of clothing. America's memories.

Arthur had kept every piece of clothing that America had ever worn. I had to admit; it was kind of sweet and showed how much he really had cared… Even if it was incredibly creepy. And I knew that he wanted me to wear them. That would make him happy, would make him give me that smile that I had seen, so open and content.

My hand closed on one of the shirts and a flood of memories hit me. England holding mine, no, America's hand as they walked through the woods; England showing America how to shoot a gun for the first time; tears going down America's face as England got in a boat to go back to his home again…

I let go of the shirt quickly, staring at it while letting my hand fall to my side. These were bombs. One touch and it was overwhelming.

Glancing around the room, I was relieved to see that England had also planned for me not wanting to wear those clothes. On the back of a chair was my shirt, jeans, and jacket, cleaned, but the jeans still sporting holes on the knees and frayed edges. I pulled them on and walked out of the room.

It wasn't hard to find the dining room again, and as I had thought, England was there. He was on his cell phone, talking rapid-fire to whoever was on the other end of it. He hardly looked up at me as I sat down at my place at the table, just continued talking. I found it hard to understand what he was saying so fast in his accent, and only caught a few words.

"No … he … idiot … honestly … finish …"

He flipped the phone closed with a snap and pushed it away from him on the table. "Am I speaking a foreign language?" he muttered irritably, rubbing his head.

My automatic reaction was to say yes, but I stayed silent, glancing down at the food already there for me. It looked edible… I supposed. A sort of porridge thing. With fruit in it. Well, drowning in it. I could hardly see the red of the strawberries. Picking up my spoon and taking a bite, I nearly gagged. It had absolutely no flavor. But I forced down the… Glop, I'd call it now.

"Good morning, Alfred," Arthur finally said, eating his own glop with none of the problems I was encountering with it.

I murmured a "G'morning," of my own, almost knocking over my water in my haste to get it. It took a lot to not down the whole cup. The porridge stuck like concrete in my throat, making it incredibly hard to breathe.

It was silent for the remainder of the meal, I finishing in record time, mostly out of desperation to be done with the ordeal. A few minutes later, Arthur set down his own spoon and placed his napkin back on the table. His green eyes studied me for a moment, seemingly… Distant. Not like I'd noticed when he first saw me. And not at all like the memories that had been bouncing through my head.

Sitting back in his chair – he sat straight up, stiff as a board while eating – Arthur gave a small nod, like he had decided something. He sighed softly and closed his eyes for a moment, before looking back at me with that cool emerald stare.

"From here on out we are going to be very busy," he said. "You will be gaining more and more memories of America's, and if I have understood properly from the past, not just his." He rose up a hand to stop me as I opened my mouth to ask something here. "You will understand soon enough, I expect.

"But as I was saying, we are going to be very busy. Even with the memories you will be gaining, there is much to learn. Not just for you either. We will be meeting up with your brother – Matthew, right? – from time to time." At the hopefully expression on my face, he shook his head. "No, he will not be staying with us. But he is not going into the army either."

I wanted to ask questions as to where my twin was going to be, but once again Arthur spoke before I could. "I know that the education over in your old home is lacking. So every day will begin with schooling. You will study in maths, sciences, history, English, and various languages. Even if you are not one yet, personifications of nations are expected to be proficient in a variety of languages. We will be mingling with the other nations quite often, and it is polite to not always expect them to talk to you in your native tongue."

My head spun. Never had I ever done so much schooling. The people in the colonies were not expected to be intelligent, but a working force. We were taught only what the Empire wanted, and they did not want us to be smarter than them.

"You will also take lessons in strategy and battle. If what I was told is to come true, America will have to turn from merely a scattering collection of colonies to a fighting force almost its own. The strength of the nation comes from its representative, and vice versa.

"On top of that, some things will have to be recreated. This will be the most important and the most difficult of all the things that we will be doing."

I waited for Arthur to say more on this, but he didn't. Apparently this wasn't something that he was going to explain. I bet if I asked, I would be told that I would understand in time. All in all, I was already stunned by all that Arthur had already said. When he said that we would be busy, he had meant it.

A wry smile appeared on England's face. It wasn't a real one, really, not like those I had seen. The real ones were rare, something told me. Especially now.

"You look shell-shocked, Alfred. Somewhere in those lifetimes of memories of yours, you know this all already." He gave a small nod, as if making what he said even more true that way. "But we will not be starting any of that today. No, lessons are for later. Today you will be meeting some of the others like me and France."

He stood up, leaving me still quite a bit stunned. "Be ready in half an hour. At that time, and no later, meet me outside. You may want to change. Wear something clean and respectable, but comfortable. No more of these hole-filled jeans." The Briton looked pointedly at my pants before leaving the room.

I'm BACK! And man has it been a long time... I was completely eaten up by school, and then this first part of summer vacation we had an exchange student from France stay with us. She left today and I miss her so much already. For three weeks I had a sister!

But anyway... My God, it has been five months since I updated this. HERE YOU GO I AM SO SORRY. I promise to do more writing this summer. And try to continue writing through next school year. Because I love it.

But anyway... If you are all still reading... I love you 3 Keep doing your amazing things.