An Untold Story- The desperate search for America.

Chapitre 10: La classe de français

Bad french by moi. Obviously. All french people or those who speak French will cringe. Just, cringe.

Alfred once again found himself in a language class, because clearly these things grow on trees. Spanish was strange and Russian even stranger.

Anyway, the room was covered with French flags and Eiffel towers. Yet, it wasn't chaotic in their placement.

Alfred, of course, was earier than his classmates. The teacher, unfortunately was indisposed at the moment. Where the Frenchie was is up to debate.

The bell rang and 10 minutes into class the door opens, the teacher was a medium sized man, his scruffy face curtained by wavy blonde locks. His eyes a deep blue, that allures women and men alike.

"Ah, Bonjour classe! Bienvenue! Normally, I would explain in French but clearly some of you lack the knowledge. Oui, a tragity. Today, we will talk about simple introductions!" Francis said

"To say you're name, you say " je m'appelle". Répète! " Francis explains

"Je m'appelle." Everyone said with varying levels of emotion.

"Très bien! Now, you add your name to the end." Francis said. "You, tell us your name in French s'il vous plaît."

It took a moment for him to realize Francis pointed at him, Alfred then said with no life at all, having run dry again, " Je m'appelle Alfred. "

"Très bien Alfred!" Francis said before going around and asking everyone "comment tu t'appelles?"

"Now that we all know each other, we shall ask how each person is doing! It is simple. The question how are you, in French is "Comment ça va?" And while their are many different answers, we will be using "ça va bien.". Because I doubt any of you know how to say otherwise, but don't hesitate to show off oui?" Francis said and the others nod.

Alfred went first again, to be fair he was in the first row on the far left.Francis asked "Alfred, comment ça va?"

" Ça va pas mal. Et vous?" Alfred answered

"Oh là là. I like his example, you see in French you adress adults and other formal people with vous instead of tu." Francis noted "Je suis chaud." He then says seriously and Alfred cringes because he actually meant what he meant. You could tell he knew exactly what he was saying. A few others cringe with him.

Anyway, the class goes on and they ignore that statement for the most part. Despite that...blunder...Francis was a surprisingly good teacher. Patient with the students and generally a nice guy.

France notes how Alfred is as dead as everyone says he is, and after what he's seen. He is starting to join the international opinion on who the personification of America is. Yes, it's been 2 days and everyone already suspects he is America, but they have plenty of evidence.

It is simply too bad he was not found, after all France imagined how cute he must've been as a enfant. It was then France started drawing parallels between Alfred and Canada.

The bell rang, shaking him from his thoughts. He says "Au revoir!" As the students leave. Watching Alfred in particular.

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Alfred walked to his dorm, he sets his things down and stares at the wall. He upacks the happenings of today. Mr. Vargas seemed like a grump, and he is no stranger to cursing. Mr. Honda seems like a respectable man, quite polite. The other Mr. Vargas is very free-spirited, good for an art class.  Mr. Kirkland is familiar...too familiar. Similarly  Mr. Williams, they could be twins really. And he is 99% sure his French teacher is a pervert or a masturbator and he isn't sure which is worse.

When he zooms back into reality, it is late. He finsihes any work he has, it's the 2nd day and their wasn't much homework yet. Mostly his presentation for Mr. Honda's class.

When he finishes that,  it is even later. He cleans up the dorm quietly, unfortunately having to listen to the dorm next door as they had heated sex at midnight. The walls weren't thick at all and the girl...or was that a guy....Anyway. the one getting plowed was a screamer.

He was tempted to go over there, instead he put on his ear plugs as he lay in bed after shutting off the lights. He lay there for a moment, completely still as je stare at the ceiling.

He closed his eyes, and all but passed out almost immediately. He was that tired.
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The world shifted around him, voices and faces,  all saying his name. Or, what should be his name. He curled in in himself, willing the voices to stop.

He fluttered his eyes open, he was a child again. Locked in the closet. But the voices wouldn't stop, he pressed his small childish hands to his ears and willed the world to stop.

And then, it was quiet. He was alone again, the closet was dark. So very dark, just like it always has been. Tears stream down his face, they used to come all the time as a child.

His chest hurt so much and he just wanted it too stop. Then, the door opened. He was in the woods, the closet disappearing behind his frail body.

He sees light, and suddently he's tumbling through the woods. An angry crowd behind, with their torches. He ran, and ran, his bare feet getting caught on the sharp rocks.

He ran, and ran, but they were always behind him. Yelling, yelling at him. He wanted it all to stop. It was too much for him, he tripped and fell in the mud. Blood and mud staining his clothes.

He was seized by the arms and lifted from the mud, their hands were hot and it burned. He cried out in agony as fire was pressed against his back. He shivered in pain as he was dragged through the forest, and suddenly all that mattered was that he is gonna die today.

And then, Alfred woke up.

A/N- hahahahaha, have a cliffhanger. A terrible one, because I suck at them. But you know, I tried. I haven't updated yhos one simply because I forgot it existed. I also can already hear the people complaining about the bad French. Sorry...

What is editing?

Au revoir!