QUIET

2

The sun had barely started to rise by the time Alfred's eyes snapped open. He sat up gingerly, noting the soreness that lingered throughout his body, especially his arms. He was still cold and stiff which surprised him because normally by now he would be feeling better. He paid it little mind though as that moment of bliss was worth all the soreness and pain it took afterward.

However, it did suck that Alfred had to prepare for a meeting tomorrow in Germany, at least he wasn't really doing anything today. Just driving for around 10 hours to get to the nearest airport.

He lazily changed into a clean shirt, jacket, and some pants. He grabbed his pre-packed suitcase with clothes and such, picked an apple for the road and headed out. The apple would be useful because it would help give energy for the production of blood he needed.

The drive sucked about as much as you'd think a 10 hour drive would suck while recovering from death. Alfred ended up ten times stiffer by the end of it and he only made one stop for gas along the way. The flight wasn't much better, the seats were cramped and America wisely wiped everything down with disinfectant before touching it. Plus there was a whiney child sitting a few seats back.

At least America was able to catch up on some much-needed sleep... SIKE! As if Alfred's pounding headache and raging insomnia were going to let him rest. Alfred cursed his life for hating him.

~~~~Point of view change brought to you by ~~~~
'travel like a Canadian'

Matthew was about to help an older lady lift her bag at the luggage pick-up belt when she lifted both his and her large bags like they were feathers. "Wow" another lady with dark curly hair commented "you just got TLCed" (if ya know, ya know)

Matthew was now heading towards the taxi pick-up section of the airport. His eyes were locked ahead of him when something slammed into his side causing him to stumble and his suitcase to sprawl onto the floor. He spun around to see a familiar-looking blond.

"Oh, dude, Matthew I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" Alfred's preppy voice laughed, the Canadian had no idea how Alfred always sounded like he drank 20 energy drinks in a minute.

Matthew sighed, of coarse Alfred hadn't seen him, "It's ok Alfred..."

"Awesome dude, hey do you want to catch a taxi together? Split the cost?" Alfred asked with his signature smile plastered across his face while Matthew picked up his luggage.

Matthew agreed and the two walked the rest of the way to the taxi pick-up together. The American talked endlessly while the Canadian, to be polite, nodded and smiled and input a couple of words here and there. Mathew was tired though and honestly just wanted some peace and quiet after that long flight.

Finally, Matthew was able to escape his loud brother when they reached the hotel. He scampered to his room and before America could finish his random story Canada whispered "good night" and shut the door.

Matthew didn't have anything against his brother but he didn't like being with the guy for too long. America was obnoxious and while it didn't bother the Canadian that much, he hated getting stared at by other people when Alfred wouldn't keep it down. Mathew was rather anxious and hated the gazes that beat down at him, which was pretty opposite to his brother who, he thought, loved to soak up the attention of everyone.

~~~~ * * * ~~~~

After Mathew closed the door on Alfred, his bright smile fell quicker than you could say 'fake American'. He yelled "night bro!" through the door, mustering as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could.

Now he just had to walk to his room... alone... with no one to talk to... no one to distract him...

Alfred slowly dragged his aching self to his own room. It would be about 5 hours till the meeting started. Most people would probably use the time to catch up on sleep. Alfred, however, still couldn't sleep so he decided to work a little on some topics.

He hated work, research, anything that required focus because it was one of his weaknesses. Alfred often had the attention span of a little over a goldfish. He was terrible at it, but even when he managed to narrow down his thoughts and settle into a deeper focus, he didn't like the stuff he had to learn, a lot of it was kinda depressing.

Still, there was nothing better to do and sleep was outta the question so he decided to look into some plausible methods to stop the global warming crisis. At first, his exhausted mind refused to cooperate in his research but, when it did, his search didn't reveal as many solutions as problems.

America found himself wondering if maybe humanity had hit its limit. Maybe all the endangered species, destroyed environments, bleached coral, turtles with straws up their noses, animals mistakenly ingesting plastic, and burning forests... maybe all of it was unrecoverable. Maybe it was all doomed to die. Then, when that happens, the food chain would collapse, the climate would go haywire, vulnerable poor people who contributed less to the problem and already struggled would be affected first, then everyone else. All animals, all plants, all life ever would be gone... and the nations would one by one disappear.

Or maybe not, maybe they miraculously find a solution to the problem in the impossibly short amount of time before too much permanent damage is inflicted. But even then, how long until World War III? How long until something runs out and human carrying capacity is reached? Alfred had thought about it for a long time and he had come to the conclusion: humans will all die one day, whether it be the sun dies, climate change, or war- hence, life is pointless and just abading the time till death.

Alfred leaned back from the computer screen he'd been staring at and looked away towards the ceiling as he thought.

Death was a concept that terrified Alfred. He'd seen the wailing humans made when their relatives left too early. He'd seen the unnatural cold faces of people who looked like they were maybe just sleeping, but actually would never awake. He'd seen thousands upon thousands of lives ripped away during war. He'd seen the way, over time, bodies collapsed into themselves, skin withered away, bones dried and became brittle, eyeballs disintegrated and brains shriveled away until the twisted bodies became unrecognizable from what it once was.

America used to pity humans for their flickering, delicate life. He cringed at the thought of death and was so thankful it would never hold him in its grasp...

He used to be so excited for the future, looking forward to the next big steps, eyes sparkling and burning like a Californian inferno. Over time though, that bright warm smile began to weather. Cracks formed in his strong mentality, and corruption permeated his future.

America now found his motivation sapped away, and the only remaining question that plagued his mind was: why?

Why care?

Why try?

Why live?

It doesn't matter anyway