NOTE: Currently switching his book from 1st POV to 3rd POV. There'll definitely be some inconsistencies, especially as half of the chapter are edited and the other half not (essentially being my old writing style from late 2020 - early 2021).
The Fi...
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❝ time wasted is time well spent if you had fun. ❞
Chapter 24 - The First Time I (Kind of) Believed
Tuesday: Morning
America
America woke up to find himself inside the cabin, facing the ceiling that was uncomfortably close to his face.
The room was somewhat illuminated, sunlight pouring the curtains, yet it struggled to reach its way into the furthest corners. Where he lied, the room was still comfortingly dark, seemingly swaddling him in a blanket of lightless comfort.
After rolling around in the blankets for a bit longer, he found the motivation to throw his body out of bed and actually get ready for the day.
As he made his way through the house, he noticed the whole place had a sense of quiet and calming. It was as though after what happened yesterday, he was gifted with a moment of serenity. It was kind of nice not waking up feeling miserable, in contrast to usual (not accounting for the fact he had to wake up at 5:30 a.m).
He stumbled towards the bathroom, leaning against the wall to keep his balance. He was well aware he wasn't going to look anywhere near great, but as to how terrible, he was about to find out.
America glanced in the mirror, only for his heart to shatter.
He completely froze — with shock, fear, or disgust, he couldn't even tell. It was a flood of emotions surging through him; an incomprehensible tangled mess. It was hard to understand what happened in that moment, he might've screamed, cried; really anything.
In the mirror, he didn't find himself, nor a version of himself minus a few stars, but Confederate.
That sight of him — him, so panicked — brought America back to their last meeting, and what would be the last time anyone ever saw him alive.
tw: the following references to death/murder, the loss of a loved one, and grieving
America could remember the day clearly.
Heat radiated from the sun, just barely relieved by the cool breeze passing by. It was an unusually hot April day; just the previous week there had been snow. The scent of pollen mixed with ash and gunpowder, a lingering bittersweet smell.
The Union's troops had been chasing the confederates for quite a while, however now they stood still in the village of Appomattox Court House.
The two generals, Lee and Grant, were residing in the McLean House, discussing surrender. However, the United States of America and the Confederate States of America were not present at the meeting. Instead, they stood outside in a secluded field, staring one another down. Neither dared to break eye contact, or tried to move.
