Hetalia: The Fifty Stars

Chapter 7: The Plundering Time

Warning: Bullying and religious persecution is a theme in this chapter. This chapter doesn't promote the persecution of one's faith rather than tell a historical conflict between two religious groups. You've been warned.

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Maryland. The 7th state was born in a unique environment among the colonies of America. Before he was granted a charter by King Charles I, the first Lord of Baltimore, George Calvert, died. Cecil Calvert, the second Baron of Baltimore, took his father's charter in his steed, granted the Maryland Colony. His younger brother, Leonard Calvert, led colonists to the New World, establishing St. Mary's City as its first governor.

Unlike the rest of the colonies of America who promoted Puritan conformity among their colonists, the Catholic-converted Calvert family envisioned a colony made up of various religions coexisting under the principle of tolerance. As such, the Maryland Colony was seen as a safe haven for England's Roman Catholic minority, establishing the city to be the birthplace of religious freedom.

However, as more settler begin to migrate to Maryland, the number of Puritans began to outnumber the number of Catholics. Consequently this led to a dispute between the two Christian groups known as the Plundering Time. Being a Catholic at the time, Maryland feared for her life and the rest of her Catholic citizens. Despite the discrimination she faced, she endured the bruises knowing the utopia she imagined would back to her.

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"Stop! Please!" I cried out in pain.

"Catholic scum!" One of the boys dragged me into the dirt, kicking sand into my face.

I did my best to cover my face with my frail arms, trying not to get any of the grain in my pale blue eyes. I shut my eyes closed. I could feel their hands grabbing onto my arms, sinking their nails deep into my pale skin. I winced, but I refused to yield. I felt their hands crawl off of me, thinking I was safe. But then I felt one of their hands grasped the top of my head, pulling my head up by the strands of my olive blonde hair. I shrieked, but the scream stop short as my face got pushed into the dirt.

Suddenly, my head became heavy, rubbing my face deeper into the dry ground. I tried to get up for air. I tried to push my face to the side, breathing with my nose and spitting dirty out of my mouth. I screamed some more, begging for them to stop. Fluttering my eyes slightly enough to see what was happening, I saw the perpetrators: three between the ages ten to twelve, wearing shorts and thin, cotton shirts with one of them standing above me, pressing his right foot on top of my head like a hunting trophy. They all have the most depraved smiles on their small faces.

I knew those boys. At least, I thought I knew them. They were normally well-mannered boys. They belonged to good, Puritan families. I remember meeting up with them after Church on Sundays, playing with them in the fields. They would tease how short I am, but it wasn't malicious. I don't understand. I did nothing to them. Why are they doing this? Please tell me!

I was only coming back from the forest with a basket full of wild berries when all of a sudden they ambushed me. They called me many things, nasty things I don't normally speak of. I tried to run away with my small legs. They kept blocking my way. The next thing I knew, the oldest among them pushed me to the ground and started beating me. The other two watched him before joining him. I kept asking why they were doing this, only to receive a mouthful of dirt and one of them telling me to, "Shut my mouth!"

Rage. Sorrow. All I could feel was their torture in this confused chaos.

The weight off my head disappeared for a second before getting pulled back up by a strong grip. I yelped in response. "You think you can go wherever you please? Huh?!" I met the dangerous eyes of the oldest boy.