The Crap Hetalia Book

Death Theories - England

Another lonely day, another day with people whispering behind his back, another day with no one caring or talking to him. Arthur lay his head against the bus window and glared out at people walking by, arm in arm, hand in hand, laughing, having fun. No one understood him, no one could care less about him. No one would care if he died. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon - he still had a future ahead of him and no way was he missing that.

The bus dumped him at a stop ten minutes walk from his home and he started across the open fields. If he kept this pace up, he'd be home soon, and then he'd be able to talk with the only people who listening to him, the only people who cared. His friends. Arthur grinned, suddenly excited and started running, bag swinging up and down on his shoulder. He made it back in record time, managed to avoid much conversation with his parents and locked his bedroom door.

If they found out, they'd freak.

He went to the locked cabinet by the side of his bed, unlocked it and took out the drugs. Yeah, they were drugs. So what? He only had to wait seconds before the first one appeared, and he had someone to talk to, someone who cared, someone who understood and listening to him. And then he let spill the day, worse than normal with teachers going on about 'group work' this and 'partner' that and today, people had started shouting at him. That didn't normally happen. Today, hadn't been good at all.

Arthur was only half way through recounting his day when they started to vanish.

"No" he said, reaching forwards. "No, come back please?" Panicking, he went back to the bag and took more. They didn't reappear. Maybe they'd left him too. No, that couldn't happen. That would mean he was completely alone. Alone forever. "No, no, no, please come back, please." He carried on taking more, more and swirling particles appeared. One of his friends danced in between the particles, laughing. The particles were bigger now, more like dots and they were blocking out his vision. His head hurt, it hurt a lot but when he closed his eyes... that was better, darkness, peace, quietness.

He didn't have to focus on laughing friends. He didn't have to focus on growing dots or the day or people or... or... the...

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Arthur woke up in a field, much like the ones he... what?

He got up and looked down. The ground was closer now and he was smaller. It freaked him out a little, especially when he realised he was wearing a dress of some sort. But the cape was kind of cool. He laughed and spun round, watching as it billowed out behind him.

But, there was definitely something wrong with his body. It was smaller and that definitely wasn't good. What had it been like before? He couldn't remember, that or anything else, apart from... England. The word floated and he brushed it away. What did it mean to him?

Curiously, he poked at his face, patting it and nearly shrieking when he got to above the eyes.

"Goddamnit" he cried. "What the hell are these?" Arthur pulled at the furry things but it hurt. He couldn't see them, but they were definitely there. They were like huge caterpillars, but glued to him. Maybe he'd just get used to them? That'd have to be it.

"Hey"

He turned round. A boy a little older than him with long hair was running towards him.

"Who're you?" he demanded the second he got close.

"England" he frowned and the things moved. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to say... what had he meant to say?

The boy laughed. "You've got some big eyebrows there"

Arthur glared at him, already deciding he didn't like him and covered up the eyebrows protectively.

"I'm France" the boy extended a hand.

He didn't care, not really but if this boy knew anything about what the hell had just happened... where had he been before? That didn't matter. He forced himself to take the hand and shake it.