It was on the battlefield when she first met the foreign nation. His green eyes glaring into her dark ones. She had in her hands a gun and he had one in his. She held a strong front but it was only to mask the pain she was in. So many of her people were losing their lives in this war and small scratches would be left upon her skin.
"I will ask you again slave where is America?" Britain glared.
"And I will answer you again Britain, I do not know." [Name]lied, a scowl on her face.
America was in pain right now and she refused for Britain to see him in his current state.
"I think I'll need to teach you your place!"
"Go ahead, make my day."
By time America walked unto the battlefield [Name] had received a bullet wounded to the leg and numerous scratches while Britain had only a few on his face.
"I want my freedom, Britain! I'm no longer a child or your little brother. For now on consider me independent!" America declared, gun ready.
Britain charged with his rifle but America reflected the attack with his own. Britain's gun flew out of his hands and he slumped to the ground- the rain making him look even more pathetic then he already looked. As America and [Name] left the battlefield she looked Britain in the eye and saw a broken man. Pity curled in her heart and she felt like she couldn't stay mad at the nation forever no matter how rude he could be.
"[Name]what are you still doing here?" She heard Britain asked as he walked into the meeting room.
The meeting had ended hours ago and he was surprised she was still there.
She turned towards him with a small smile, "Nothing, just a little bit of reminiscing."
Nothing romantic- just piece I wrote a while go for a contests that I decided to edit and post. The reader (you) is the embodiment African-American community and the "slave" to America.
OWO Where did you get the pic ?
you have the wrong year for the revolution