(You’re America {1766})

Your father is English, your mother says he’s the “king” but you’re not sure what a king is. That’s about all you know about him. He was here in the colonies on a trip seven years ago. He got your mom pregnant with you and had to leave to go back to England, he never knew she was pregnant. And he didn’t take her back with him because she’s Native. If their king was married to a Native, he’s not sure the British people would be too happy about it. He came back about a year ago and met you. He was disappointed to find out you were an albino, he thought your red eyes and white hair were quite unnatural and was disgusted by the fact you barely knew any English at the time. When he came back, he wanted to try another child since you were so “defective”. Your mom got pregnant with your little brother, Canada. He’s only a few months old now, he has brown hair and bright blue eyes, just like your father. The only ‘flaw’ or what your father would see as a flaw would be he’s a bit on the darker side. What’s strange is that even though your father doesn’t like you, he’s still adamant on you being the heir to the crown, since you’re his first-born. You’re six now and your mother just got a letter from your father saying he’s coming back once more to the colonies for a while. You’ve been working on your English since he last visited, so you’re pretty fluent now. But you’re still just a child.

His boat docks, a bunch of men in red coats get off the boat. You’re waiting about twenty-five meters away from the boat, your mother is holding your sleeping little brother in her arms and holding your hand in her other. Your father spots you and walks towards you, he sees you and gives a short glare before seeing the baby and his eyes light up.

“Is that my son?” he looks in awe at the baby. You’ve never been more jealous in your entire life. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t your father have the same reaction when seeing you?

Your mother nods and he takes the baby, “He’s perfect.” The moment is cut short when he looks down at you, his voice hardens as he talks to your mother. “So it’s still here? You haven’t sent him to a correctional school as I suggested?” Your heart aches at the distain on his face and in his voice, you nuzzle closer to your mother, hiding behind her leg.