Chapter 2

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TW: Racist Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia

The air was cold, and her scarred hands were slightly numb as America forced her eyes to stay open. The ground seemed tilted, damp dead leaves frost-bitten and dreary. Then again, the world always seemed to tilt slightly nowadays- like she was living in a dream, or had entered some other plane of existence. Either way, it didn't do much for the nausea that seemed to make itself known almost daily. The sky was a dull grayish color, and the cool light burned her eyes.

Still, America supposed it was a good thing. It was pretty rare that she was up and about when the sun was in the sky, mainly due to how utterly wrecked her circadian rhythm was due to spending months in perpetual darkness with no sense of time. Then again, she rarely slept at all after the first day or so of her freedom, which she spent sprawled out in the middle of a field, passed out from sheer exhaustion. Not that she wasn't exhausted now. Quite the contrary, she couldn't remember a time when she had been more tired. But now she couldn't sleep. Because shortly after waking up from her day and a half nap in a random field, America came to the dreadful realization that she was f*cking screwed.

Everything Wrong, a mental list by America.

1. She had no f*cking clue where she was or where she was going.

2. It was cold.

3. America was so hungry that she had eaten a squirrel, something that was not a first for her, but was still fairly upsetting.

4. The Confederate States of America, who had been dead for almost a century, was constantly making her presence known.

5. Said Confederate States of America made it a point to name the squirrel Luanne and give her an entire origin story involving a squirrel husband and three squirrel babies, causing further emotional distress to the now squirrel murderer.

6. She wasn't just a squirrel murderer, but an actual murderer.

7. It was her fault.

8. The sheers in her pocket were stained with Romania's blood.

9. Said bloody shears also had bits of her hair stuck to them, as she had chopped off as much of her white locks as she could.

10. She had done it because she thought she had lice.

11. She had not had lice or fleas, a surprising yet relieving fact.

12. But she could still feel insects crawling on her at times, burrowing under her skin and laying eyes in her ear canals. She could hear them buzzing if she listened.

13. Her eyes burned.

14. France was dead (refer to point 7).

15. Italy was most likely dead (refer to point 7).

16. Her family hated her (refer to point 7).

17. She hated her (refer to point 7).

18. Her people would hate her once the truth came out (refer to point 7).

19. She had helped Third Reich and Japan (refer to point 7).

20. She had no real reason to live (refer to points 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and of course, 7).


America usually wasn't one for lists, but she needed some way to keep her thoughts in order. As of now, they were fleeting and barely formed together. But making a list gave her something concrete, something real. A way to comprehend how she had managed to destroy every good aspect of her life in less than a year.

Point 20 was the main sticking point. The point that rattled in her too heavy skull and echoed in the lonely forest around America. She had nothing left. No dignity, no family, no lover. All she had was herself, and she hardly found that to be worth moving forward for.

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