19 September, 1899
Dear Diary, news were given from Britain that a war in South Africa has erupted and Australia along with New Zealand are helping out. After reading the paper, caretaker escorted me to my prime minister to discuss this topic. He dove into detail about a day spent contemplating if sending troops down to aid Britain and Australia would be of worth. Soon his mind was made up: he would volunteer to send troops down. What caused my skin to turn snow white was the part where he said that I'll be sent down there too. How much of a difference can I make? The times I practiced with any weapons were archery, not shooting. Caretaker never liked the sight of me pointing a gun at anything, especially animals, so he discouraged the skill. He has a big sympathy for animals compared to any of my other caretakers. My prime minister had no objections to my statement addressing my absence in the shooting skill. He said once the meeting was over, that I'd be taught the basics and all I can until the time I leave in October. Frightened is I! I don't know how it's like there and what it feels like to have to take the lives of others who did nothing to me, who don't deserve it! I ponder if that is how the whole world works, and me as a person didn't pay much attention to it. I have a lot on my mind present, and can't organize them properly. The distractions are killing me. Wait, I don't even know how it feels to be shot! Does it hurt that much? The only information I gain on these questions are the information Alfred gives me. It does not sound pleasant at all! As for Alfred, he told me he's gotten used to it, this made me mad and lay a punch on his arm. This event calls for letters distributed to Britain, Australia, maybe the United States, and Alfred. He still hasn't come back, and I don't know when. It's certain, though, he will most likely arrive when I embark. At least he didn't promise me a specific date he'll dock here again, otherwise I could:
A.) Punch him harder than last time
B.) Flip this desk and scream into my pillow; or just scream into my pillow
How else do you think I release my anger whenever I'm alone? I know it's better for others not to know I'm mad, and I can release all the anger I conserved in a quick and private fashion.
Your friend, Matthew
YOU ARE READING
My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)
FanfictionA history between America and Canada throughout the years written in diary entries from both perspectives with little twists here and there. The two countries had been through quite a considerable bunch, ups and downs alike. However, when war and cr...
