My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)

His Second Impression I Still Can't Trust (Canada)

28 April, 1817

Dear Diary, the celebration was today. I wish I could say that I played it cool, but then I would be lying to you, and I hate lying. Caretaker woke me up at six to begin preparations and practice formal greetings. An example that he emphasized was first starting out by introducing myself, follow that with a firm handshake, and ask how the other has been doing. It trailed on for about an hour until the breakfast bell called us to the table. I'm grateful to have bells telling us our next meals, and that we have chefs to make the meals for us instead of doing it manually. After filling my stomach to the brim with ham and toast, I headed towards the washroom to scrub myself clean, looking like a brand new doll when I finished. My clothes were already laid out on my bed by Caretaker, so that was one less worry gone. I spent the rest of my hours reading in my garden until the stagecoach arrived to take us to our destination. At this point I began shivering, I didn't teach myself how to calm down without anyone doing it for me, so that explains the few wobbly steps here and there. Sitting in the stagecoach felt like brief seconds as we pulled up to the manor where the celebration would be held, and it took me several deep breaths and soothing words to make my feet move. The lights shone bright as we entered. We were greeted by a pudgy yet postural man, probably forty of age. His voice was loud, way too loud that I could hear it bounce along the walls and into my ears. Are everyone's voice like that in America, loud enough to destruct one's hearing? I pondered at the thought until I felt an arm nudge me in the side, it was Caretaker. He told me that I'd be directed in a room specifically for Alfred and I. This room was where we would get acquainted with the other and improve relations in the long run. My eyes pleaded Caretaker to rethink this, to not send me there, but he told me it was for the greater good. "You're doing both countries a favor." Next thing I know, I was face-to-face with a familiar figure, a figure I had longed to avoid. He was smiling, smiling! Why would he be smiling? Does he not remember what he did to me in the past? After a few seconds of staring blankly at him, he asked me what the matter was, to which I replied with a soft laugh and an apology. I had to reenact what Caretaker and I had rehearsed. I introduced myself, shook his hand firmly, and asked him how he had been. "I've been great, thank you! I'm happy about the agreement we've come up to, no more conflicts in the meantime. What about yourself?" I wished I could've screamed in his face that I've been doing terrible ever since I was forced there, but that's not gentleman-like of me, now is it? A fake smile plastered on my face, I told him about improvements around my country and hobbies I've picked up throughout the years. What I didn't expect out of this night was his friendliness towards me, his smile rarely left his face which creeped me out terribly so. Time passed by and I found myself in deep conversation with him, talking about the latest game invented in our countries and opinions on Great Britain and France. He doesn't really seem to like Britain at all, that I clearly understand, I partially don't like him either. Finally it was time to set for home, exhausted was I! I don't know why I felt the little pull to stay and keep conversing with Alfred, maybe it was when we were talking about France and Britain's bloody history together. I admit, things like that excite me, and it looked the same for him too. I still can't level a sense of trust for Alfred, and I know that in the future these meetings will keep happening. His second impression was decent, but not decent enough for me to let loose.

Your friend, Matthew