How could he go on?
Yes, he had his other colonies. Canada. Australia. That little island southeast of Australia did seem promising.
Yet, why did he feel so empty inside? He was personification of The United Kingdom, of all things! He should't be so upset over losing one silly little colony. Even though America had beaten him and won independence from him, he shouldn't be so bloody depressed about the whole thing.
Sighing, England sat down in a chair and closed his eyes. He thought back about first meeting the little boy. About taking care of him and raising him. What had England done wrong? He only placed taxes on the colonies to try to pay off debts fought in the Seven Years' War. However, America, the silly boy he was, thought it was unreasonable and refused. England had no choice other than to raise taxes. Slowly, a tear rolled down his cheek.
Dammit. He thought to himself. Bloody hell, stop crying! Get over it Arthur! He's gone, and he's not coming back. Honestly, can't you do anything but cry? Stop! Dammit, dammit dammit! He felt the tears fall quicker out of his eyes and felt sobs racking through his body. He tried to stop crying, but his attempts were futile. His small shoulders shook with a force that could challenge any earthquake. He sat alone, in the dark room like that, sobbing for what seemed to be hours. Then, he heard a knock on the door. Fuck.
"Angleterre? Are you in there?" It was France, one of the people he did not want to see. After all, he had helped America win his independence.
"Go away, Frog!" He said in a hoarse voice. It definitely sounded like he was crying for hours, he did not want to know what horrid creature he would see if he looked in the mirror. "I'm busy, and even if I wasn't, I wouldn't want to see you!"
"Aw, Arthur! Don't be like that! I just wanted to check up on you and see if you were okay! After all, you did just lose a war." England looked up from the chair and glared at the door with disgust.
"If you don't let me in, then I'll just get in myself!" And before England could retort, the door was blasted open with a strong kick. England stood up, fuming with anger.
"How dare you break into my house! Out of all the rude, disgusting, and perverted countries, you are the worst by far!" He yelled. "Did anyone ever teach you manners? Get out of my home right now!" France just stood there, not moving. It almost reminded England of how Alfred never listened to him those few weeks before-No! I will not think about that child right now! He felt tears beginning to well in the corners of his eyes.
"Didn't you hear me, Frog? I told you to-" His voice broke. "-to get out of my home! I do not want any visitors right now." Well, fuck. He had started crying again. He didn't even bother to try to stop them, they just flowed down his face in two parallel lines. It was almost funny.
"Angleterre? Are you alright?" France started to say before he saw England laughing. It seemed almost psychopathic, tears flowing out of his eyes paired with a maniacal grin. France was, in two words, fascinated yet horrified.
"You know, Francis, I don't think you know what it feels like? To work so hard trying to make something out of some random child you found in a field, then lose it all in one battle. To have people, like my wonderful brothers, look at me and laugh. To say that I didn't raise him right. And you know what? I suppose I didn't. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many battles I had to fight in just to protect him. He still left. Do you want to know what he told me that day on the battlefield?" He looked up at France with red eyes. "He asked me what happened. He said that I used to be great. Used to be." He had stopped smiling at that point and slumped to the ground, sobs coursing through his body once more. France looked down at the empire. He looked so small. So fragile, so breakable. He bent down and hugged the country with all his might.
"W-what are you doing? Unhand me this instant!" England pushed France away with as much force as he could muster. When France looked back at him, a bit surprised, he saw that England's eyes were wide, and he was trembling. "Get out." He said in an eerily calm voice and pointed at the door. "Now."
"But England I-" France started to say when England interrupted him. "Did you not hear me Frog? I told you to get out! Get out, get out, get out!" England curled in on himself, weeping. He didn't even bother to hide his tears this time. He wrapped his arms around his legs and bawled, his whole body shaking. He finally managed to mutter a small, "Please." with a shaky voice. France stood there, unable to do anything for fear that the nation might lash out again. He then stood up, and with his heart falling into the black abyss, walked out the door into the stormy London weather and shut the door. Leaving the nation to cry alone, once again, in the dark and empty house.