The Fake Smile He Wears

Chapter 11

Thanks for the reads! Love y'all! I wouldn't be anything without you guys! If any of you have problems I'm here to talk! I will talk to any of you no matter who, so if you know someone to talk to and won't judge you I'm here! Btw I'm not doing Sweden's accent cause I have no idea how. Now onto the story!
Italics- Inside Alfred's head.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~America was the first person to wake up. He looked at the alarm clock on his side. It was 8:10. He only got an hour of sleep. He sat there pondering how the sunrises when times was being stopped. The Ancients has their ways. He laid there thinking about all of the things that had happened so far. It's hard to think that it wasn't all just a dream. It may have been a terrible dream, but anything is better than the reality he faced everyday. Most people woke up from their nightmares, he woke up into a nightmare. Life was a nightmare. He could never escape the nightmare called his life for long, he never slept much, anyways. He got used to getting now sleep, in fact he could go a week without sleep. Not many can do that. With as many kids as he had, the days he got sleep were heaven. But even those days he never slept much. He always had thoughts and memories inside his head, making it almost impossible to get any sleep. Once in awhile he would get 6 hours of sleep. But that's when he was really lucky, other than that, he barely got sleep. His kids didn't know, they didn't need to know anyways, they would feel guilty and sad even more than the already do. He hid a lot of things from everybody for a reason. He always has reasons. He finally decided to get up and quickly stretched. He grabbed some clothes from the drawers as he prepared his quiet escape. He slowly and quietly got up, tip toeing away. He quietly opened and closed the door. He felt a wave of relief as he noticed no one was woken up by him. Those espionage skills are quite useful after all. Those were the good days spying, assassinating people, infiltrating government, you know the normal fun stuff. He quickly went to the bathroom and took a quick brief shower. He looked in his jacket's pocket for his razor. When he noticed it was missing. He looked in the all the other pockets to find it gone just like that. That's when he heard his mom inside his head.

"If you're wondering where it is, I took it. It's for your good Maska. I love you and Kanata so much. Please don't hurt yourself, you don't deserve it. Please don't, please. They care about you don't do it anymore please. I'll be taking anything that you might use, except when you're cooking, got it?" Native America said.

"Got it mom. Sorry that I worried you over nothing." America said. He didn't like bothering people.

"Worry over nothing?!? What do you mean?!? I'm your mom, what else am I'm suppose to do, nothing? It's my job to worry about you. You're already driving your mom crazy enough. Britannia and Scandinavia worked extremely hard to get your memories you know. You just had to block people from seeing your memories. Even with their work, we still don't have all of you're memories, you're only around 300 years old, you're still so young, I still can't believe that you're 300, time flies fast, huh? Maska, why are your memories so important? Why won't you let us see it, we're trying to help you? Tell me, please." Native America desperately asked. She was so confused. She was just trying to help. Why not let them all see his memories, so they can help him recover?

"Mom, I'm sorry I'm just not ready yet. My memories are important to me, why would I leave them in the open for others to see? I mean you wouldn't either, right? If everyone knew what I've been through, the would've probably gone crazy already. I don't want to hurt anymore people, I've already hurt enough people, I don't want people to be like me. I don't want to talk about my memories. Not now. It's hard to talk about the things that torment you everyday, you know? There are lots of painful memories, you wouldn't understand. I'm really sorry Mom, but I'll tell you when I'm ready, I'm just not ready yet. I don't know when I'll be ready. All I know is that I'm just not ready, the time will come, I promise. Can I ask you something? Mom, do you know who dad is?" America responded quietly. He lied. He knew he shouldn't have, but he didn't want to crush his mom's hopes of him eventually telling her everything. He probably will never be ready. Sometimes no matter hard you try, you just can't make it past the horrors you see, sometimes you just can't forget the images that plagues your mind for the rest of your life. He doesn't know when he'll be ready, but it won't be anytime soon, that's for sure.