A/N: This takes place after the American Revolution, where America won his independace from England, or Britain like it was called back in the day. Human names will be used.

For C.R. : )

Chapter 1: It came to this

Hello, my name is Alfred.

"Sir, Arthur has arrived! Shall we lead him into the conference room?" Asked a soldier as he peaked his head into my office room.

"Yeah. Lead him right in. Tell him i'll be there in a sec!"

"Yes sir!"

As I stared at the door, oddly surrounded by dull coloured wallpaper with boring designs and simple paintings that weren't even worth glancing at, I collected all my papers in my hands and stacked them neatly on top of each other. Today will be the day I and Arthur seperate. My country, America, had just won its seperation from Arthur's country, England [Britain]. I thought I'd be really excited, but I feel hollow inside. I have never intended to seperate from him, but the distance between us had grown so much that it was already too late to stop the escalading tension. For long periods of time we wouldn't talk, I'd dissaprove of everything he'd do because he never really seemed interested in anything of ours and even though he clearly tried, it just wasn't enough. So now, we are down to this. He lost the war, and now we are to become independent of each other and prove it with a signature on a piece of paper. W-who needs him, right?

I grab a tissue, and clean my eyes from the small tears that i've been holding back ever since that faithful decision was made. The one about making our independance official, our independance from each other. I was never to count on him again because we would not be together any longer. That made me sad and lonely.

I pulled more tissues from my tissue box that sat right beside my stack of papers, the ones he would look thru and sign. I've been trying to hold in my tears for a long time now, because there was no need to cry in front of someone else that made you feel uncomfortable to cry around, because you wanted to show the best side of yourself as much as you could. But, he didn't need me anymore, so there was no point in showing an ounce of sadness to him. He probably knew I was dissapointed in him, but I was more angered by my own actions. I should have pushed him into trying to keep us together. Like I've always wanted. But . . . I must have not mattered much to him, huh?

I chocked down on my self-pity and shoved some more tissues in my pocket for the new tears I'd get seeing him with a new perspective, the one where I was unable to help him in his time of need; where I am useless.

I would feel the most at fault here, for my new gained independence from the one who helped me find myself, who made me who I am today I dare say, but, I was just as upset with him as I was with myself, maybe even more I dare say.

Why didn't he try his best to keep us together?

Maybe he did try. Maybe I just couldn't see it. Maybe he couldn't feel afraid for our seperation. What hurts most is that I didn't try to help us stay together. Its my fault. I didn't push enough. Its all my fault. Why hadn't I picked up on it before? I know why. The answered made me feel nervous. Maybe because I felt the same way too . . .

I sigh deeply as I stand from my wooden and overly designed chair. I straightened out my coat, fixed my hair a bit to keep the image that I seem fine with the desicion of our seperation, gather my papers under one arm and proceed to the door. As I walked in the carpeted and gloomy hallway leading to the big conference room, I meekly smile to myself. As much as I try to keep this image that all is fine with me, inside I know I'm an emotional train wreck.

END