The Tragic of England

Questions for the Brit

     As predicted I woke the next morning around ten. The nausea and headache had disappeared, much to my relief. I pulled out what I was going to wear that day: dark jeans, a black t-shirt that read something like ‘Go to Hell’, and a white jacket because I froze even in one hundred degree heat. I slowly took a shower. Then I put on the clothes and went downstairs. Nothing seemed changed, but I vaguely noticed the presence of another being in the kitchen.

     I plopped down on the couch and turned on the T.V. out of ritual. I watched the news for about twenty seconds before turning the volume way down and making my way to the kitchen. There, I noticed the pantry door was ajar and the light was on. On top of that, there was a shadow looming from it. I Opened the door wider to get a better view, finding a critical Arthur. So he stayed the night, and now he was raiding my pantry. Oh no. I slid past him and hesitantly reached for the cereal. He seemed surprised to see me awake, but he complied by grabbing it and handing the cereal to me. I poured a small amount into a bowl and poured milk before sitting down at the table.

     Arthur soon joined me with his bowl of cereal. We ate in practical silence. I was on my last bite when I finally decided on something to say. “So, would it be alright if I asked you a few questions?” Arthur looked at me with a serious gaze, but nodded. I decided on my first. “I know the concept of Hetalia and all, but how did the writer know you guys existed? It it a known fact in some countries?”

     “Well, the writer was originally friends with one of the countries, and he swore never to tell. At a world meeting however, he brought up the subject of how we would never really be found out if we didn’t have any proof, so we let him write Hetalia. As for the name, I’m not sure,” He explained. I smiled. He was quite truthfully for someone of his composure, or at least it sounded true.

     “Then the next question is why is that charm so important to you?” I think I hit a soft spot because England immediately seemed lost in a memory of sad nostalgia. I quickly apologized and was about to just flat out leave when England looked at me sharply.

     “Its fine, really. The locket is only important because Alfred gave it to me. He asks sometimes about it, and I honestly think its very nice of him to think about someone else other than his hero ego,” England remarked bitterly, though I could hear the sound of joy in his voice. I nodded and took my dish to the sink to wash out.

     “Third question, how did you know I had it and how do you know my name?” I didn’t turn around to face him because I was too scared. I don’t know what it was, but I honestly didn’t care. England could’ve pointed a gun at my head and ordered me to turn and I wouldn’t have!

     “Well actually, I was coming over because Alfred had told me about a girl that lived down the street that had extreme issues. He told me your name and all of this weird stuff about some medical condition you have. Whether any of it is true, I’d only hope its not. The trinket being in your possession was actually a reaction to you running off. Flying Mint Bunny told me you had it right before you answered the door.” I nodded as I put my dish up. I excused myself back to my room to find my english book and started on today’s supposed lesson. I finished quickly and started to zone out, dreaming of the nice day it was.