My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)

My First Entry A Tragic Entry (Canada)

27 April, 1817

Dear Diary, Hello! It's nice to have you as a method of expressing my thoughts secretively, I find it impossible to confess them to anyone else, for I am never sure how they will react if I do so. My name is Canada, however I'm reffered to as British Canada since I'm still under British rule by Great Britain and what the whole world knows me as. Oh! Speaking of Britain, he finally found a name for me, a human name at that, it's Matthew Williams. Does it sound bad? I don't think so. Mr. Caretaker, as I like to call him, approached me a few minutes ago looking a little excited. I asked him what the reason was that caused his heart to beat so and his feet to hop. He replied immediately, "The Rush-Bagot Agreement had been passed through, dear child. We and the United States have established a border and materialized equal rights over the Great Lakes. Isn't that good news?" I did light up when the words 'passed through' were spoken, for I began to jump up and down and dance around my room. Peace again! It seemed almost an eternity since a feeling as wonderful ever flowed in my blood. However, I stopped my little dance when Caretaker said, "I forgot to mention, Canada, er, Matthew, I mean; We are meeting with the United States tomorrow as a way of 'supposed celebration' although clearly it will be an event of great tension, we have no other choice. You will meet a boy by the name of Alfred. Would you like for me to select your outfit?" I remembered that name in a snap of the fingers, Alfred. I remember his revolution, his strong endeavour for independence, his victory, his attempt at making me his thirteenth colony. I remember as if it was just yesterday. Fourty-two years ago in the Battle of Quebec. Quebec could've fallen had it not been that Britain was prepared for the attack while he occupied my province. I'm shaken by the thought of his eyes looking me over, his mind processing plans in an attempt to seize my province, possibly provinces, the next time he has injected the "War Drug" into his circulatory system. Shaken indeed. I'm drowned by the fact that any persuasion from such a "celebration" will deem in vain, that I have no other choice but to attend. Nightfall is beginning to set and I'd rather conserve my candles for further use as I am conservative of my belongings. Until then, this is my first entry in this new diary I received for my birthday from Mr. Caretaker who was ordered to give this to me by Britain. I don't understand why he couldn't have given this to me in person, he's probably still mending to his country after that last battle against France, Waterloo was it? Yes, I can recall, he's bragged to me about it on his last visit not too long ago. Apparently calming him down led to no avail, he was too busy describing how a general like Wellesely could've ever defeated a conqueror like Bonaparte. Goodnight, Diary. Hopefully surprises in the future will prove themselves worthy of my ink onto your paper.

Your Friend, Matthew