Redemption (Sequel To We Are North America)

The Only Way

He opened his eyes and gasped for breath.

Oh God, where was he?

Air was barely being coming through for him... And oh man.... John was so thirsty.

His throat felt so dry.

Where the hell was he?

Wait..... more importantly.... Why wasn't he dead?

Yeah... Union had shot him...... yeah..... his family-

No..... he whimpered and shook his head.

They were Union's family. ...

Yeah, Union's family had tricked him.... and there was another war and he lost... he had lost.

And it- this felt terrible. He felt himself start to shake.

Like, a lot.

He felt terrible.... all those people dead... killed.... he killed. Oh God, the states and cities, he hurt them. He abused him.

His empty stomach started to turn.... everything just felt so bad...

He sniffled..... he was a horrible person.

John looked around, it was so dark. He didn't sense that he was in America. And it looked like he was in a field... oh.. and there was a river..

Water... thank goodness.

But John felt too weak to crawl, he was just so tired.

Why wasn't he dead?

Everything ached, memories of what he had done felt so terrible, he just wanted to die.... again...

Why was he here? Why was he still alive?

John sniffled and curled up in a ball.

Thunder boomed, causing him to jump in surprise. And the rain started to fall.

Great...

Well he deserved all of this.... Every single thing.

Maybe if he stayed here.... he would finally die and stay dead...

John whimpered and curled up again.... troubled.... troubled is how he felt..

After all the horrible memories and the hatred he still felt from his ex country. He just felt troubled.

He closed his eyes and waited for death to take him once again... Silent sobs started to shake his body.

And then there was light... He just felt it..

Maybe it was finally time for him to go.. Finally...

He sniffled and opened his eyes.... Why wasn't it taking him?

John looked up at the direction the light had been coming from and saw a woman wearing a cloth with a mixture of designs that Native Americans usually wore. She was standing there.... staring at him.... he felt like he should have known her....

By some extent... 

She wasn't smiling, wasn't frowning, she was just unamused. It seemed like she didn't want to be here.

"You must have many questions." She spoke calmly.

He just nodded and slowly and painfully sat up. Where he got the energy from, he didn't know. "Why aren't I dead?"

She looked hesitant to speak but did so anyway. "I am Maska's mother."

"Maska?" Who the hell wa-