The Euphoric Cancer

Like the birth of a human, or a cancer destined to take over, we started as a single cell, a colony. The baby of a glorious empire. We were supposed to be its child, its right hand man in conquering the Americas. But in the embryo, something went awry, a mutation. A mutation that started with a few bold men that some would say were too brave. The mutation had spread though, taking over the host. We welcomed it with open arms. Father England disagreed. A skirish was upon us and tea barrels were upon the Atlantic. Medicine took a new form, higher taxes and a massacre were shoved down our throat. But the mutation had grown. It didn't back down. A full-fledged fight broke out. We called it a revolution, the world saw it as certain abortion. They tried slipping us a different medicine, this one was called death, Paul Revere said no. The immune system rejuvenated. We had more strength in heart and soul than any amount of material strength could conquer. Muskets were rendered useless when compared to our unprecedented patriotism. Top of the notch medicine was overcome by pure desperation. When all was silent, and the gun smoke had faded into the abyss, a living creature stood tall, and the unconventional birth had prevailed leaving a free baby destine to change the world. America was born.