Civil War [ Short Story ]

After a Long Absence

[ Arthur's P.O.V ]

Solitude had been treating me well. Being stripped of prior relations and ties has introduced me into carrying out on my own. My own nation was my main concern; everyone else's problems were secondhand against mine. Benefits of my heightened attention and lack of distractions shone greatly amongst my land and decisions. My boss was quite pleased, which allowed me to take their word with pride.

However, it wasn't long until my jubilant streak was shattered by news that made it across seas.

The United States was in the midst of a civil war.

At first, I treated the news with a cold shoulder and didn't even bother pondering about it. That prat declared independence and that's what he got. All further issues were his to burden and not mine. That is what he wanted anyways; to see the world and be his own country.

As days rolled by, news from States continued to flood in. Violent arms from the North and South clashed together, sending countless bodies upon their own soil. Again, I turned away, my pride giving me strength to not care.

Unfortunately, this was Alfred. This meaning I still cared for the lad. Despite still being hateful and betrayed from our revolution, I still had a troublesome bug picking away within me.

That's when I decided to pay a visit— to check up on that twit.

...

The voyage there was rough. It wasn't a surprise to see how little passengers wished to travel to the States. Seeing as how chaos rose at every square foot on its land, it was simply a risk to even go there. But, that didn't faze me. Unlike the mortals around me, death and harm wasn't a concern of mine. It was an empty possibility that held no meaning.

My first steps back on my previous colonies were not as I would have expected them to be. The moment I my foot touched the soil I felt my heart twist in a faint pain. Even now, my body still feels what the land feels. It's worn off since the war, but I still have a few weary connections.

An invisible weight was put on my shoulders as I trudged through the land. Everyone I passed by had their heads down and held those near to them close. Children grew silent as they clung to their mothers dresses, stumbling along. People, both black and white, gave off the aura of despair and yearn for peace.

My God... What had become of this nation?

Alfred lived in an empty suburb north of New York, according to officials I met on the ship. He was transferred there for 'his own good',  which only made me more concerned. Being transported away to an isolated area, away from your people, only meant disastrous events were being born.

The directions I was given led me to an old house that appeared to be hanging off its hinges. It's wooden walls had burnt marks smeared across it like an artist's canvas. The front door was ajar, frequently squeaking from the wind that blew by. An eerie aura drifted from the building, causing my breath to cut short briefly.

Carefully, I walked up the front steps, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end from the creaking beneath my feet.

"Alfred?"

I called out into the silent house, straining my ears to hear any response. There was none.

Inside was no better than the exterior. Wallpaper was torn down, it's strips barely touching the scratched floor below. The windows were dusty and smeared with filth, filth of what something I could not deduce. It was incredibly cold, an extreme contrast from what the temperature was outside. Half burnt out candles littered the floor and occasional table that was propped up against the wall, yet no one was around to appreciate its dull light.