The Almost-Country

(Wherever you see a link, click it. Though, I think it's broken, so you'll have to copy and paste. XP)

How could things have gone so wrong? One moment we were happy, the next... Another tear spills down my cheek, streaming down the thin layer of caked on red. Whether that red is from the Southern clay or... No, I can't even think of that. Because I know it's not my own. Mud covers my dress, ripped up and shredded, only a shadow of the fine gown it had once been. The kind of dress that would make any gal jealous. I wore only the finest, cotton-spun dresses. Now, I can hardly afford such extravagances.

How dare he?! America, demanding that I just do as he says! That's all I've ever done! But sometimes, I just can't take it any longer! My hand clenches around the buck antler handle of my dagger, it too covered in red mud. Everything is covered in red. Looking up, even the full moon gleams at me with it's usual harvest orange. So much blood has been spilled, so much earth has been dug up, even the sky is filled with red. It's too much. Too much. But what can I do? I made my point clear. These were my borders, and he was not to come across them. I am my own. I am the Confederate States of America.

A younger me would have laughed at the idea of splitting our union. The very thought of it was ridiculous. We didn't really need each other, at least, we didn't think so. We we're both farmers, ranchers, frontier-folk. That's just the way we lived. Then something changed. It started in Europe, and moved across the ocean to us. America left the farm for the factory. I'll never understand why. The pay is a thousand times better where we were. At least it came to be. We drifted apart, but we weren't broken up. Even then, we were still in love. No matter if he lived in a city, working in a crowded factory for little pay while I lived in a mansion, with all my needs catered to and the only thing I ever had to do was sell some cotton to the Northerners, we were still in love. He insisted that his way of life was better. I didn't see it, not then, not now, not ever. I am who I am, he is who he is. We were fine with that.

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Then came the issue neither of us wanted to talk about: slavery.

It was accepted as fact back then that slaves were a part of life. North had them, I had them. It was never really that big a problem. Europe started outlawing slavery in their colonies. I didn't understand why, but Europeans were always very strange to me. We didn't mind them too much. We had each other, and that's all we needed.

North wanted more territories. So had I. It seemed like a good idea. The more land we had, the better life seemed to get. And expanding borders felt so good. So what if we push out a few Natives? There's plenty of land. They can just go there. East Native America didn't like us from the start, and the feeling was mutual. She really was a pain. Sending her away to bother Plains Native America seemed like as good an idea as any. All that land, and it was ours for the taking. All we had to do was conquer it.

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Mile by mile, we traveled in our wagon across the old trails all the way to California. Starting from the East Coast, that's quite a ways. But it was worth it. North stuck it rich, finding gold in those mountain rivers worth three months pay back home. Settlers flooded that land like you can't imagine. Soon enough, we had ourselves a new state. Then came more and more. We gained new states all over the place, filling out that wrinkled map and the cradles. Of all our kids, Texas sure was the most difficult. We had to fight a war over him. In the process, we gained more land, meaning that our power now stretched from East to West, and boy was that something!

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I wipe away another tear. The corners of my mouth, which had risen remembering all the good times, now fell again as the bad ones came. With more power, came more arguments. Slavery or no slavery? As new parents, we wanted to let the kids decide. After all, what harm could be done? Oh, how very wrong were we. Little Kansas, sweetest baby in the world up until then, became a battleground. Blood everywhere. The child was in so much pain. It was our fault, though we blamed each other. As a mother, how could he not understand that I feel every bit of pain my baby goes through? But, the tighter I held her, the more pain I caused. Whenever North or I would try to hold her, the battles would worsen, sending her into another fit of agony. The worst feeling in the world is hearing your own child screaming... and knowing that if you did anything it'd only get worse.

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My chipped nails dig into my palms. My baby. My precious baby. If only we had known. Compromise, compromise, compromise! That was all we had ever done! Neither of us was ever really happy! It was always walking the middle ground! North never got what he wanted, I never got what I really wanted, and the damage it did to our children: the states... It was more than any parent could take. We pretended it was all fine, that life would go on just as it had before, but that was lie. Our whole life together was built on a lie. A lie that we told ourselves, but could never believe no matter how hard we tried. North and I are too different. He's industrial, I'm agricultural. He's abolitionist, I'm a slave-owner. Well, I was.

What really broke our union was that last election. That man promised North that slavery wouldn't spread to any of the territories once they became states. Who is he to make that kind of decision?! My unborn baby will be what I want my baby to be! But that's not what really bothered me. He acted like I needed to be quarantined. Like slavery was some sort of disease that had to be contained. Ha! The very thing that has made me rich beyond even the gold North found in the West?! How could there be anything wrong with that?! I treat my slaves well enough, but I made it very clear to North, slaves are property, not citizens. That was the Dred Scott ruling in the Supreme Court. That was law, and it had passed through the fire of judges and politicians that he had built up, therefore the law stands. He didn't like that too much. Not that it matters to me anymore. After Lincoln's election as our, no... his new boss, I left him. I won't have that pompous Indiana boy telling me what to do. No. If I'm going to have a president, it's going to be someone who understands me. Someone like Davis. A good ole Southern boy, born and raised in the land of cotton. Everyone else is simply inferior.

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I up and left him, set my sights on new horizons. By which I mean, new allies. I brought with me a good number of my children. Good children, all perfect little Southerners. South Carolina led them in secession. I've never been prouder of my little boy! Oh yes, his father was furious. What did I care? I asked for freedom from him. It's not my fault that the kids just like me better. Without North though, I realized just how undefended I really was. Not a problem, I've always got others to call on for help. England and France being my main buyers of cotton, I turned to them first for a little help. They seemed fine with it at first, but then North had to show his ugly face in the matter. He got them both convinced that I'm some kind of monster, turning this little break-up into a war of slavery. Of course, the European nations dropped out at once. If I know anything about my now ex-husband, it's that he's not one you want to get angry. No one has ever really seen him angry, except me, Arthur, Matthew, and Francis. He hasn't even really gotten angry in front of the kids. There have been plenty of things that the states did to annoy us, but we would never lash out at them. At least, we didn't.

This war is beginning to be a little too much. It went well for me for a while. I never saw a battlefield myself until recently. South Carolina and his brothers all promised to fight for me. Such bravery. I suppose that's to be expected. He has been a state for a very long time. One of our first thirteen. It was hard to see him lying on bloody sheets in that infirmary. His blonde hair, so much like his father's, though I would never admit it, tangled and messy. Still, he smiled at me with the same brave smile, the same determined glint in his green eyes. He took my hand and asked me if he'd fought well enough for me. He asked if I was proud of him. I told him yes. I am very proud of him. He just smiled and laid back on the pillow as nurses pushed me out of the room. I snapped a little bit. I know nations can't die. I didn't know about states.

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I haven't seen him since that day. I've been taking his place on the front lines. To think, my own son shot by another of my sons. It isn't right. But that's all Alfred's fault. I shake my head. Everything is his fault. South Carolina being injured, the Europeans refusing to help me, Kansas being in so much pain... It's all his fault. If only he'd have let things be as they were! If only he didn't try to play the hero when no one needed saving! If only he'd have loved me enough to let go! I hate him. It burns in my heart, beating faster and faster, fiercer than any other emotion. I've felt this kind of passion before. A long time ago, when he won our independence from England. I was beyond happy! Joyful in ways words can't describe! What blessed freedom! Is it so strange that perhaps I'd want to feel that again? We had both wanted to be free from oppression by England, now I want to be free from oppression by North. But no. It doesn't work like that. It never has. The world is in America's favor. It seems to be. Especially after Gettysburg.

My sweet Southern boys had fought valiantly, but North's army was just a bit stronger. Not by much, though. My boys did damage. Three straight days of damage on both sides. War is ugly. War is cruel. But war is also peace. One day, I know there will be peace. But that day was not the day of the battle. I can't stand watching our children fight. South Carolina got his wounds in that battle. I'll never forgive North for allowing that to happen to my little boy.

Then, he did the unspeakable. He invaded. Not just the expected invasion of major cities. No, he got a new general: U.S. Grant. Also known to many as “Unconditional Surrender” Grant. The very name brings chills running down my spine. He took his force straight through the heart of my dear Southern states. With every plantation he burned, every village raided, I felt a sharp pain. It grew worse and worse the farther South he marched. He was going for my capitol. I could sense it, and so could Lee.

Robert E. Lee was my last hope. If anyone could stop the Northerner, it would be him. He was as Southern as anyone could get. My boys would gladly follow his orders to the letter. He won battles for me. He was my hero. The hero I needed after I lost my last one. He was going to make everything better. He was going to win the war for me! Was.

Slowly, I get up off the muddy ground, Virginia soil clinging to my dress. Enough is enough. North has gone too far this time. Grant has cornered Lee in that little courthouse, but I'm not even allowed to go inside! And worse, North is. At most, I can wait here by the front steps as the generals come to a final agreement. I just wanted freedom. That's all! At last, I feel I can no longer keep this vigil of silence. “Is freedom too much to ask?!” I scream into the night air.

“You tell me.” Comes a voice from the steps. Turning, my eyes meet with the one I never want to see again. North leans against the column, watching me with a look of disapproval, sadness, and anger. I've seen him give the states the same look after they disobeyed him.

I grind my jaw, fighting the urge to strangle him. “What do you want?!” I snarl. Why does he have to be here?! Hasn't he done enough damage?!

North sighs and walks over to me, not stopping until he's barely a foot away from me. “I want the same thing you want. I want peace.”

Hot, angry tears burn down my face. “Peace?! We will never be at peace!”

Unfazed by my hostility, he gently brushes away my tears with his thumb. Just like Palmetto had done. “South... I don't want to fight you anymore. I hate fighting you.”

“And you think that I like fighting you?!” I screech. Instantly, I hate that I said that. He doesn't deserve to know that. He doesn't deserve to know anything about me.

“Then why do we do it?” he whispers.

The question catches me off guard. I've been reminding myself of why I'm fighting for hours now. But somehow, looking into his blue eyes, the compassion for me that lays there despite having been my enemy for five years, all the reasons never make it to my lips. But, without an answer, something else does. His lips brush mine softly at first, but then grow more desperate. Hating myself, I kiss him back. What am I doing?! I can't stand him! It's his fault! It's all his fault! He's the one who caused every bit of my pain! How dare he kiss me! How dare he! My thoughts of anger and hate die with each moment in his embrace. I wrap my arms around his neck, though I beg my hands to strangle him, they do not. His arms slowly pull me closer to him by my waist. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Why on earth am I still kissing him?!

The door to the courthouse creaks open, revealing the two generals. North and I break apart at last, and my gaze travels to my last hope. He doesn't meet my eyes. He doesn't have to. I can tell by his slumped shoulders and fallen face, even more so by Grant's bright smile and victorious twinkle in his eyes. I've lost. North has won. I close my eyes. No. I'd been so close. So close to being my own country! So close to-! North's lips crash into mine once more. After a moment, he looks me in the eyes. “You know what happens now?”

I nod slowly. “Yes. I'm aware. I'll become your wife again.”

North smiles. “Well, we are at a courthouse.” He kisses me again. “But more than that. This is the beginning of something new. Something we dreamed of a century ago.”

“Hm? And what would that be?”

His eyes gleam playfully in the moonlight. “A United States of America.”