Russian-America (Short Story)

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Dika sighed, sitting on her bed with a say. She had just gotten done with a meeting with Alfred's boss, and now she was being punished. Not like her real boss had any say in it. He didn't even know about the meeting. 

You see, things had been tense between America and Russia. Ivan and Alfred tried not to get too tangled up in their boss' feud. Yet now the American government wanted to stop whatever Russia was doing. She didn't even pay attention when she heard that they wanted to go to war. The other states gladly signed the paper since they needed their say before Alfred signed it. They went in order of state number like they always did. When it was time for the Alaskan to sign it, she said no. 

So while the other states who were 'good' and signed got to leave, Dika was forced to stay and have a nice little chat with the man. 

"Alaska," he said, not using her real name, but instead her state name, "why don't you just be good and sign the paper." 

"Because, it's not right," she answered, crossing her arms. 

"What do you mean it's not right?" 

"It's not right for us, meaning America, to just jump in and tell people what to do. No one steps in and tells us Americans that we can't do something. So what gives us the right to go into Russia, or any country for that matter, and tell them they can't do something? We may be powerful, but that doesn't mean that we can control other countries. That's not what our founding fathers wanted. They wanted us to break away from Europe and be our own people." 

"Alaska, just sign the stupid paper!" 

"I'm not going to!" 

"Sign it!" 

"No!" 

"If you don't sign this paper, than you aren't really American!" the man hissed at her. She just stared at him before standing up. 

"Than I guess I'm not, da?" she asked, her Russian accent clear. At that moment the man understood why she wouldn't sign. 

"Your father is Russia," he chuckled. "Which means that you are Russian. Which means you're a traitor to this country." 

He grabbed her arm and dragged her off, locking her in her room. That's where was at even three hours later. She sighed, hugging her knees, running her hand along the seams of her dress. She looked out the window with a heavy sigh. 

"I'm Russian-American," she whispered. "Not Russian.... right?" 

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