August 24, 1814
I adjusted my cloth mask, pulling it farther up my nose. It was currently blocking the smoke from getting into my lungs.
The beautiful White House could be seen behind my figure. The fire licked at the walls of the building as red coats looking of blood could be seen surrounding the building.
I don't see why they're so mad. We just joined in what they were doing.
I offered a glance behind me to see a few specks of red chasing us, as in my brother and I. I turned to my similarly masked brother.
"When's Mom and Dad?"
"In August 26, 2010."
I nodded, "What's our exit strategy?"
"Our what?"
"Oh my god, we're going to die."
I pondered as I kept running, I really start to wonder when those damn lobster backs will quit. They're all pish posh, big eye brows, and suck at cooking.
(A/N- No offense to the English people reading. Just making a reference.)
"On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-"
"At least a twenty."
I huffed when I didn't even get to finish my sentence.
"We have nine people trying to kill us right now, what are we supposed to do?!"
"Actually, it's more like twelve."
"Oh, sorry, I wasn't specific enough!"
I finally got irritated enough when I noticed my brother about to fall asleep while running. Slapping him on the head, I stopped in my tracks and leveled my vibrant red eyes on the soldiers. In a swift motion they were all knocked down, not dead of course, it wasn't my mission to kill them.
Yet.
I turned to my brother and followed him, 2010 here we come.
If you haven't already guessed or looked it up, that scene was the burning of the White House.