Chapter 2
Alfred grieved in the dining room, he didn't know what to do. Call 911, saying a man died in his arms but disappear without a trace? That sounded sketchy to Alfred, what would the police think? "Didn't he say something about notes?" Alfred thought, getting up to go upstairs. He went into America's office. It was a dark room. Which was strange, the rest of the house had a light brown and creamy color theme. This room had dark purple walls, and dark oaked furniture. Alfred been in here twice to see America writing. Maybe he was writing the notes he was talking about. "Let's see," Alfred whispered, snaking around the desk to sit on the chair. Alfred opened the first desk drawer in the center to see a journal. Alfred opened it, to see the chicken scratch of America's handwriting.
"Dear Alfred,
I'm sorry for doing this to you. I couldn't live on, when I paid off China's debt. My economy crashed too much for myself to handle, using the emergency gold in Area 51 kept America alive but not me. You are the new America. Don't tell anyone that though. They'll freak, or try to attack you. I'm also sorry to say, that for me to die.. You had to die too.. Legally. Check the folder in the drawer on the left."
Alfred read the first page of the journal again before following it. He opened the drawer to find a yellow folder with a blue sticky note on it. The sticky note had "Sorry" on it. Alfred opened the folder. Tears came back as he read the file. Alfred F. Jones died a month ago. He's been dead for a month now? Alfred blinked away tears as he found some different paper work in the folder.
"Alfred F. Jones. A.K.A "The United States of North America". This is crazy," Alfred mumbled while reading the document. It said he had powerful job in the government, and he was granted all access to everything. A ring of keys slipped out of the folder and into Alfred's lap. Alfred ignored them as he picked up the journal and turned the next page.
"Your responsibilities is to support the president and do what he says. Remind him what this country is about, don't let him screw the USA up even more. Sometimes you have to do paper work, the FBI will show you how. Keep the keys on you at all times. But please remember. I love my citizens. All of them. Keep them safe and happy.
P.S you live here now. Everything is yours. The house, the phone, the cat, and the cars."
Alfred closed the journal, not wanting to read the next page. This was too much for him to handle. And, he couldn't believe any of this can be happening to him.