Finally~AmeriPan

Chapter one

I remember it all so clearly, and it was so hard to comprehend what I was doing. I didn't think I could even become that angry at someone I most definitely loved, but especially if that person was the one who raised me, who cared for me, and helped me to become the better country I am today. Maybe if I was a better son, I wouldn't have left in the first place and talk it out with my father, but if it wasn't for the fight that followed, maybe I wouldn't have loved him.

It had started with the fight, and even though you may have already known about it on Mattie's side, you didn't know what it had felt like yelling at your own father. Especially screaming that you wished you weren't in your own family.

~

At first, everything was quiet. Dad was downstairs as he read the newspaper and had a cup of wine. I was outside in the back for a bit, trying to smuggle some beers inside. Of course, in Mortal years I would have been sixteen at the time, so it was natural of me to want to try something my father forbid me. I snuck inside the back door and tried hugging all the beers close to my chest, yet to no avail, and one tumbled out from under my shirt.

"What the bloody hell-" Arthur began before his eyes widened at the fizzing beer bottle on the floor, and they trailed up to me.

I held my breath and the room became deathly quiet, and I knew I was definitely in trouble.

"What...is that." Dad said quietly, his eyebrows covering most of his head as they shot up.

I looked down and placed the other bottles from under my shirt on the counter. I looked back at him to find him holding it in his hand.

"What is this, Alfred." He asked again, his mouth twitching in anger.

I gritted my teeth and surprised myself and him by clicking my tongue in annoyance and answering sassily,

"Calm down, it's just a beer."

He growled.

"I will not tolerate beer in my household!" He raised his voice.

I narrowed my eyes at him and responded angrily.

"Well I won't tolerate you yelling at me all the damn time!" I argued back.

His grip on the bottle made his knuckles turn white, and I was scared for making him so mad. If I had stopped arguing right then, I could have apologized and make up for it by doing my grounding session easily.

Yet, the motive of gripping my source of rebellion had made me increase in my foolish anger.

"You never let me do anything fun!" I barked.

"Alfred F. Kirkland! Don't you dare use that tone with me!" He hissed angrily, taking a step towards me.

At this moment, I had looked past his shoulder and noticed the half-drunken wine bottle spilt upon the floor.

"Dad! You're drunk!" I announced as I narrowed my eyes.

"You promised you wouldn't drink anymore-"

"To bloody hell with that! Why do you have this god dammit!" He hollered as he shoved the beer bottle into my hands.

"You and Papa drink all the damn time! And me and Mattie never get any! We're just as great as any country!" I growled.

"Or for gods sake! Not this again! Alfred, we only try and protect you! And you repay us with this!" He snapped as he spun around and marched angrily back towards his favourite chair.

Before I knew it, I had thrown down the beer bottle from my hands and onto our hardware floor, the liquid and glass flying into different directions.

Dead silence took hold as I heard shuffling from upstairs, before I heard myself scream.

"I WISH I WAS NEVER IN THE FAMILY!"

Dad spun around and his eyes were dark and anger had seemed to course through his veins as well as my own.

"WELL LEAVE YOU SPOILED LITTLE BRAT!" He yelled back.

I stopped myself as I watched him, the way his teeth bared and the way he breathed heavily. Another moment of silence took place before I pushed past him angrily and went out the door, and slammed it shut.

I marched down the steps and towards my car, my eyes teary and my fists clenched angrily. It wasn't my god damn fault if I wanted to drink! I'm fucking almost 151! I deserve this!

....

Don't I?

Well, even then I knew I was the hero. The one who everyone counted on, so of course I deserved medals and trophies and the right to drink!

So as I left, I got into my car and stomped my foot on the gas and took off down the road, not caring whether they lived or died. I wasn't prepared for anything much, especially not having a place to stay. Yet I continued to drive and the anger continued to build up inside me, but a horrifying thought came to my mind.

'What about Mattie?' I thought desperately.

'How could I just leave my own brother to deal with this by himself?!' I thought worriedly as I tempted to do a sharp turn.