Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia!

AN: The girl, Mackenzie Smith, who is the one speaking in this story, is based somewhat off of me. Her personality and appearance are, for the most part, along with some quirks like OCD and anxiety. Correct age, family, and location? Nope. We share no names either. So this was thought up because of talk about North Korea and the nukes. I really hope this story is not true, nor ever comes to be true. But enjoy the story, I hope you all like it! (No pairings so far)

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I didn't want to think what I saw had been real. It couldn't have been real… it just wasn't possible.

I'm sitting in an airport, and life around me seems normal. Only I'm surrounded by people with British accents. Normally I'd love to listen to the beauty in their voices.

But not today. I sit there in shock.

I'm Mackenzie E. Smith. I have dirty-blonde hair that's none too pretty that hangs around my shoulders. My bright blue eyes that could shoot glares strong enough to hex are behind patterned blue glasses that slide down my nose.

I'm pretty young, still in school – high school. I'm fifteen. I live in Washington D.C., the capitol of America.

I've been having some trouble in school. Always being bullied and crap like that. I don't have that many friends, but I don't mind. Whatever. I like to be alone. Alone in my books and writing.

The bullying is always for stupid things. I'm pretty tall for a girl my age, and of course my glasses – it amazes me how immature some people can be. Yeah, I correct a lot of people on spelling and grammar because that was how my mother raised me – my spelling and grammar is nowhere near perfect. I watch anime and stuff like that too, not crazily hardcore – but enough. Not to mention I love to speak in different accents. My own bloody accent is a mix of several… and people seem to take it the wrong way.

I've always wanted something to happen to me. Something exciting.

But not like this.

I'm in this airport in London because I was sent here to attend a wedding. My cousin, Harold, is getting married. We don't exactly get along though. I could care less about this wedding.

In fact, most of my family finds him obnoxious. I'm the only representative here right now… my mom, step-father, and younger twin brothers Liam and Paul – who are thirteen – are all in California, enjoying a nice vacation.

Mom doesn't like social gatherings, and my step-father doesn't like Harold. Liam and Paul are inseparable, and since Liam, who has a spoiled temper, doesn't like Harold – Paul isn't coming with me. Dad would've made them go if he was alive. He loved the twins, he loved Mom, and he loved me.

But he's gone. He died in the attack during 9/11.

So I'm here. Alone. Like always.

But something that I saw on the plane haunts me. I've tried calling Mom's cell, and the hotel they're staying in. But I got nothing, not even voicemail, and I'm afraid that what I saw was not a hallucination.

My anxiety started kicking in when I couldn't get ahold of Harold either, so I'm stranded here dwelling in my stupid anxiety disorder. Whoopee.

I look up, clutching my suitcase. I'm sure my eyes are red with unshed tears. I look around, wondering how these English folk with whom I share heritage could act so normal. But of course, they didn't see what I did.

I'm alone, so a voice directed at me from behind my back puts me on edge. "I say, are you alright?"

A man comes around and sits next to me. He has blond hair and kind green eyes and very bushy eyebrows.

For a second I consider responding in an accurate British accent that would match his own. That's when he stops me. "You don't look familiar, and I'm afraid that I recognize most people in these parts. What's your story?"

I couldn't believe it. I stared at him, looking shocked I'm sure.

Was this who I thought it was? I did watch anime and read manga after all.

Again, before I could start he stops me. "You look rather young to be alone. Are you alright? You seem upset." "And you're a total stranger!" I snap back immediately, feeling alarmed.

He smiled calmly at me as if he expected my outburst. "It's alright, love. You can trust me." "But… how can you trust me?" A headache starts forming, probably from the anxiety. I know that if he keeps pressing that I won't be able to hold it in longer. "I mean, I don't even know your name."

"Well then, you can call me Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. And if something's wrong, you can most certainly tell me." I freeze. You've got to be kidding me…

Now fairly certain who this is, I feel my chest burn with the need to share what happened.

"You're going to think I'm crazy." "Perhaps. But I'm pretty sure you aren't. Trust me, I know what crazy looks like."

I sigh. I have to say it.

"I just got here, I flew in. When I was on the plane, just outside of England, I saw something pass the plane a little ways away. It was big and black and looked… it looked like a missile of some sort. Then I read the four white letters on the side. N-K-N-M."

"And you think you know what it stands for, I believe?" The man now had a frown, but he seemed to be seriously considering my story.

"Yes. I think it stands for… North Korea Nuclear Missile. And I think that either it was heading for America, or has hit it already." "Judging from your worry I'm guessing you think the latter."

I nod, feeling cold all of a sudden. "Yeah. I think it hit the West Coast and I think that more are right after it. I've been trying to call my family… and not only haven't they answered, but the phone just goes dead."

He nodded, looking deep in thought. "This is very troubling, if you are correct. And I don't think you're wrong. You seem to be a very trustworthy young lady. And you're all alone; I don't suppose that you have anything to do?"

I grimaced. This was serious stranger-danger. Even though I knew who this had to be.

"I'm sorry. I just can't do that. You're a stranger, and even though I'm already alone–" my voice broke. Ashamed, I shut up. I don't cry. I don't even get close. I don't like to openly share my emotions.

I feel him slip his arm around my shoulders and I tense. I only ever really allowed one of my guy-friends to touch me, to hug me in a way that didn't feel awkward or forced. I close my eyes, wishing that I could wake up in my home with one of the twins yelling and knocking on my door for me to wake up.

"Come now, I know you doubt me. You think you know me, and you're right, but you're waiting for an excuse to come with me. Well, I'll tell you: I'd rather like for you to come to this meeting I'm having in fifteen minutes, and repeat what you saw. You seem to have a strong heart and a strong spirit… so open your eyes."

I opened them. Sitting in my lap, lighter than air – was a curiously green bunny. A… flying mint bunny?

I smile as it brushes up against me, and I pet it, still aware of the arm around my shoulders. I hear Arthur chuckle. "I was right. He likes you. You like mythology and legends, don't you?" "Yeah…" I whisper.

"You will come with me now, won't you? I'm afraid about my friend Alfred. If what you say is true, then we really must hurry to that meeting."

I honestly… trust him. And I feel like I don't have much choice, either. Besides… I don't like Harold, so…

"Okay," I say, standing, upsetting the bunny which moves to sit on my shoulder. Arthur smiles at me, standing and taking my free hand. "Well that's splendid. Come, I'll show you to my car. We have ten minutes," he winks at me, starting to pull me off.

"I think we can make it."

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AN: You like? R&R Please! Cookies for those that do! I love reviews!