America, In My Dreams (United States of America #2.5)

Sinister Intentions

America was thankful that no meetings would take place in the next couple of days, because right now all she wanted to do was stay home and watch the trees that surrounded her home and beyond to do their usual dances whenever there was wind.

Her children were doing their own thing, so America knew they weren't going to be visiting her today or the week after. She didn't mind at the moment though.

Things were just as Cyrus predicted. Not only were they getting stranger and stranger, but the very people who have always said they hated her now suddenly want to be more in her life.

America was more annoyed than angry.

Just how thick-headed could they be? What part of "She doesn't care for them anymore" do they not understand?

America snorted to herself. And they called her stupid.

The night before, Iamar had taken her to the lake where only days ago they had danced together, just the two of them under that multi-colored sky and full moon. Now, they had just sat beside the lake, watching as the various spirit animals came by to drink from it and as other spirit animals went about their day without a care.

But America knew they were watching her and Iamar. They were, after all, previously worshipped by their native people, and rarely today if you didn't count America and her children.

The two of them didn't say anything the majority of the night, and it was like they both were desperately trying to forget what had happened earlier but were failing miserably. Well, for America, she was more worried about what both Iamar and Cyrus would do now that Canada had finally awoken her mother's powers, and she was also worried on what he would do with them.

In the beginning, when America had awoken her powers, she often didn't know what she was doing. Often times Kwanita had to point them out, and throughout her growing years, she had become more aware of how ignorant she was of how to control them, so she began to practice.

Now, she had complete control over them, though America knew it would be awhile before she reached her mother's level.

Canada however, now that he had apparently awakened his powers, would not be as experienced as she was, and that alone could lead to disastrous consequences. And with that personality of his, he would use Kwanita's powers for his own gain.

America couldn't let that happen, and she'd be damned to the ninth level of Hell before she lets her ex-brother ruin everything.

Iamar was clearly also worried about this, and America hated how she couldn't do anything to comfort him. It was always a horrible feeling to have when you couldn't even attempt to comfort someone you care for.

So, they had spent that entire timeless night in each other's company, not saying a word, though America wished one of them had said something.

But...maybe that couldn't be helped.

So, now here America was, wondering what the hell she was going to do about this. What was Canada planning? What were the other nations planning? And why did they have to involve her?

America clenched her fist. Once more, had she still hated the people who ridiculed her for no good reason other than to make themselves look good, she would've hunted them down one by one and even make their lives a living hell, like putting their ungrateful asses in one of her extreme haunted houses, like Scarehouse: The Basement, or even force them through the discontinued Raven's Nest.

Wait. That's it!

At the mention of haunted houses, the Mckamey Manor came to mind, and America found herself smiling sinisterly. Maybe California was up for an early Halloween, even though the day was only a few weeks away.

"Oh dear, dear Canada," America sang as her eyes started to glow a sinister blood red, the color that her eyes turn into when she's either about to summon monsters of unimaginable horror or is planning an evil move. "You're walking on thin ice right now, and I know it won't be long before you make a terrible mistake by not listening to me. I think it's about time you paid the price for your nativity."

The spirits of the dead, who once more accompanied America, shivered in fear. Whenever their protector had that eye color, they knew all Hell was about to break loose, and quite literally.

It was never a pretty sight, especially that one time when America unleashed a horde of Wendigo upon the cruel high school girls who thought it would be funny to try and bully a young blind girl in the forest. Thankfully, as the girl was blind, she never saw the horror that was the Wendigo and the fact that they ripped apart the screaming pretty girls like they were nothing.