The American's Past |Revamp|

Part 1- The spell

America groaned as the incessant beeping of the alarm that  went off on his phone. His hand wandering through the night stand and he silenced his alarm and looked at the time 7:30. 7:30? F u c k. The meeting starts at 8! Quickly pulling on his glasses he rushes to get dressed. Not caring about how he looks, he puts on ripped jeans, an old and faded green day shirt and threw on his bomber jacket, tucking in a golden heart locket where it wouldn't be visible; Russia got it for him as a gift.

There was no time to eat either. New York traffic sucks at this time of day,so a bike would be the best option. And he couldn't even go to Starbucks for a coffee. Once he got his brief case into his backpack—both of which were full of old notes, doodles, unsaid confessions and more doodles—He raced off to find the building.

He checked the time once he hit the building and parked his bike 8:05. Oh thank god, Germany would only scold him today. So he rushed into the building, plastering a smile towards him. "Hahaha! The hero is here!"

The room went silent. Germany had an irritated face, but he pointed to a seat next to France and England; The seat no one wants. "I'm glad to see you finally came."

"Of course sausage dude!" He slides into his seat, hoping to whatever god or goddess that no fights would break out. So to try to ease the tension he wraps an arm around his estranged brother's shoulder "Hey, Iggy! It's nice to sit next to you, hm?"

Alfred could practically feel the heat already. "My name is England, America, and you should know this." He removes the arm with a scoff.

"Well of course! But I have to have a nickname for my brother, yeah?"

"Well maybe you should stop fooling around and, stop being late, and actually put on an outfit suitable for work!"

"What do you mean? This is totally cool!"

"You look like you came out of a rave!"

"Just like my brother raised me, remember the 60s?" Bad choice, as now England is red.

"How dare you?! I raised you as a prim and prop-" he was cut off by France

"Ah, ah! I raised him too, and found him, you know!" And now an argument was starting. Finland seemed to try to say something but it was drowned out by the ensuing chaos.

Suddenly England's wand was pointed at China. "Stay still! I've had enough of this!"

China of course protested "What did I even do?"

"I need to teach the twat a lesson." The word twat was spat out like it was bad food as he glared at Alfred. He tried to cast the spell at China, but he dove out of the way. Instead, the spell hit a mirror, which ricocheted into America. Soon enough, America felt himself tearing about bit by bit as everyone screamed for some reason. Well, he was screaming, too. He was falling through a hole with everyone else!

Consciousness didn't last long, but when he woke up, he was situated on Russia's chest. Slowly getting off and looking at his surroundings—thank god his glasses weren't damaged in the fall—he seemed to be in a coniferous forest. Looking to his left, there were two young boys. Both in traditional Native American garbs to protect them from the cold. Yet looking closer, those won't just any boys. They were him... and Canada... huh, what?! What spell did England even do? What trouble have they gotten into now?!

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Lol I have no excuse for not writing this but better later than never.