Smoke and Unicorns

Snuggled tight against his former ruler, America closed his eyes. "Remember all I did for you." Were the words that were circling through his mind as sleep slowly overtook him and memories of that long forgotten night come rushing back to him.

It was during the heat of the revolution, the White House was on fire and America, young and foolish, was trapped inside.

Flames were starting to slowly engulf him, oxygen was quickly being consumed bu the fire, ad the young would be nation's lungs were filling up with ash. The toxic fumes spun inside America's skull. Then the world tilted on it's axis and all went black.

Next thing he knew he was being hoisted up o to a horse. No! It was not a horse, because American vaguely remembered grabbing on to something long and hard. It was on the head of this creature. Yes, he could almost see it now. It looked just like a horse, only it was about twice the size of even the biggest pure bred horse. In a blurred vision, America remembered seeing blue patterns on the creature. Horses were not blue! And there was also the matter of the horn.

That was when it clicked. When he was small, England had told him tales of faeries and unicorns. This was it! This was a unicorn. England was saving him. Even though they were in the middle of a battle against each other, England was actually saving him! The older nation had drawn these creatures to America before, in hopes that he might recognize them. Those images never left America's mind and now he was actually seeing the queen fairy leading the unicorn out of the burning building.

The rush of cool fresh air was too much for America's ash filled lungs to handle that he black out the moment he was safe.