America had woken up in yet another dream. He was sitting huddled against a wall, on some old clothing. He looked down to see some ink on the floor, a pen, and a book in his hands. It looked like something from when he was his colonial days. Because it was. He saw on his palms, there was the British flag. Plus he had the face covering of his Fathers flag on him.
He looked around. He was in a place that was all wood. It was a relatively small place, definitely made for a child. It was messy and full of toys and other stuff a child would play with. America looked down at the book in his hands. He was writing in a diary. It was in older English, and it was barely legible. Of course, he was a child and English wasn't his first language.
He placed the pen in the little mazer and then placed the book to the side of him. He was in some old sleepwear clothing, very messy ones at that. He stood up and looked around once again. For how small the room was he was pretty high up. And he could see leaves creeping out from the outside. In confusion, we walked over to the window.
He was up high, in a tree, with a very flimsy ladder attached to the outside of this window. He was in a treehouse. He realized he was all alone in the forest, no one was near him. He didn't have any of his kids yet because he hadn't started the revolution yet.
He walked away from the window and went back to looking around once more. There were paintings all along the wall. Some were professionally done by painters, most were of him. He saw next to them a carving of some people. Upon closer inspection, it was a drawing of him, his brother, his mother, Pamola, and Eluwilussit. It was a drawing of his family. He smiled at the fact Britain wasn't there.
He walked away and he didn't find any other interesting things in the treehouse. Other than that it was poorly made and sounded like it would crack and fall at any given moment. But he couldn't die, so he didn't really mind right now.
He walked to the window once again and sat on it. This was very much not safe. He saw the only privacy he had from the outside were window shutters made out of sticks and leaves. Shocking for the era of time. He sighed and looked down. He closed his eyes before slipping off and grabbing the ladder. It creaked a bit then went silent. Good, he didn't fall and break his fucking neck.
When he started climbing down, his shirt had gotten stuck on a loose piece of wood. Just what he needed right now. Another plus was that one of the buttons from his button up had popped off because he didn't notice. How lovely. He grumbled and fixed it, then started heading down the ladder once more.
Once he had finally got down, he looked around more. The forest was very dense, making it seem like you were in a fairy tale. Maybe forests used to be this gouges, but pollution ruined them. Or the way his child brain remembered it was more grand than it actually was.
As he took in his surroundings, he started hearing a cry of a child. Not any child, that was definitely a younger one. America froze for a second. Then followed the cries into the forest. The closer he got, the louder it got, the more stressed he felt. This was a child, and he didn't know who's.
Once he turned around a tree, he saw a basket. He assumed the child was in there. Looking around making sure there was no one that would pounce at him the second they spotted him, He moved to the basket. There was a child, not a human one of course. It was a flag he didn't recognize right away.
It was a blue flag with a horizontal yellow diamond, and inside the diamond shape there were two men. In the exact middle was some symbol with an animal on it, as well as a ship atop of it. He scanned the flag once more, deciphering who it would be. Then it clicked. This was Delaware's first flag. Oh for fucks sake, now he's panicking even more!
He picked up the basket and walked back over to his treehouse. It wasn't far, so it was a quick trip. Once he had got there, the main question was how the hell was he going to get a child up that damn ladder. Before he could even think about it, Delaware started crying again.
That's just what he needed right now. He didn't have a clue what he was crying for, but he went for the first thing he could think of, hunger. Now the problem comes into play, he doesn't know where the food is. So he went up the ladder, a struggle but he managed.
Once he got up there, he scrambled around trying to find food. There was so much stuff, on the floor, the walls, the roof even! And if he left the child alone for too long, you never know what could happen. In the midst of panic, he found a basket with some apples in it. He grabbed two and shoved them in the pockets of his pants. He also grabbed a small blanket and tied it around his waist.
He hurried and left down the ladder and sat next to Delaware. He broke some bits off of one of the apples and fed them to Delaware. And he ate it, thank god. So America fed the rest of the apple to him and ate the other one. He noticed it started to get darker outside, now he needs to get the child up safely.
He stared at the child, and the blanket. And he somehow managed to tie the baby in front of him, and he started climbing the ladder. Sadly the baby got a small cut on his forehead. But at least he didn't fall to his death.
Once America had gotten both him and the baby inside the treehouse, he walked over to the old clothing he had and looked for some to sleep in. He found a big undershirt and put on some knee reaching shorts. And he grabbed a heavily torn cotton shirt and ripped a long strand off.
America walked over to the baby and wrapped the cloth around his injury. Then piled up some clothing into a small circle, and wrapped the baby in the blanket. Then he placed the child in the middle. He walked over to the small pile of blankets and laid them out on the ground. Then used one to cover him up. And then he fell asleep.
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hello my wonderful readers. I have updated, almost a month late, once again. I'm very consistent, you can all clap now. My motivation has turned from the size of the sun to smaller the a pea but I'm still updating!! Writers block has been biting me in the ass for a while, and so has art block. So forgive me for not updating, even though its fucking summer. I'm trying to figure out what to do next with this book, even though I have the notes I can't transform it into a chapter. is there a writer fairy I can call to help me out with this? Oh writer fairy, oh writer fairy! oh I wish for your guidance on how to get out of my predicament! prolly not but whatever
bye stars, yall are wonderful
~quest
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sorrowful sleep | rusame (DISCONTINUED)
Fanfiction(ART IS MINE) (CRINGE WARN) (SLOW UPDATES) He watched the gold liquid drip from his hands, standing the grass beneath him. The shades of feathers falling to the floor around him. Covering him in his sins. The gold owned by the two he once looked up...
