Abuse is a traumatic thing, especially in the eyes of a child. The screaming, the yelling, the punching, it overwhelms them too much. It stresses them out, making them think that they're doing something wrong. One day, someone might take it too far and even hurt the child themselves. Although they might not have meant it, everything means something to a child. So, they might run away. Then, they're left sobbing. You never know you love something until you lose it, after all.
England was walking through the forest, staring at the bright blue sky above him. The trees gave a cool breeze in the warm summer and the grass was bright green, unknowing of the winter about to come.
It was a beautiful day, which was why England had decided to step out of his house for the first time in a while. However, his mind was still clouded with his doubts.
His relationship with the French was worse than ever and another hundred year war seemed to be coming closer. After the discovery of new land, he and France had been fighting over who could take it.
It was surprising that the two were fighting once again. After all, they had just ended a seven year long global conflict which resulted in the victory of England. Although, despite winning the war, England was now severely in debt. A sixty million dollar debt to be exact.
After the threats of France and the debt, he barely found any time to himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. 'It's alright.' He convinced himself. 'France isn't in a good situation either, he wouldn't begin another war right after the last one just ended.'
His thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of leaves behind him, then the snapping of a stick. He turned around to see nothing but a thick bush.
"Who goes there?!" He yelled out. Looking around himself cautiously.
To his surprise, a small child walked out of the bush. His face was skinny and his clothes were tattered. The child had been through a lot.
"Oh my lord! Are you alright?" England exclaimed, going over to the child and bending on his knees. As he went to reach for the child, the child flinched and moved away from him.
"It's alright." He said quietly. "I won't hurt you."
The child looked at him with doubtful eyes. England could see that he didn't trust him.
"It's alright if you don't trust me. I'm England, or you can also call me Arthur Kirkland. What's your name?"
The child stared confusingly at England. "A-Alfred..." He muttered. "Alfred F. Jones..."
England smiled at the young boy. "Well then. It's nice to meet you, Alfred F. Jones."