Hiding in a dark closet as silently as possible, Angelique tried to remember what she had done this time. After a few minutes of no luck, she gave up. Whatever it was, it must have been pretty bad to piss him off this much. Everntually, Angelique felt herself beginning to fall asleep. It was a dark, silent closet after all! She had the worst dream possible. It was no nightmare, it was reality. The dream was about how she got to be in this situation...
It was another lovely spring day. A younger, thirteen years old, to be exact, version of myself loved everything about spring. But today, in particular, was different and important. It was the day that Papa France had to sign over ownership of my country to the British Empire. I had found out about this one month ago, and I spent that entire month arguing with France. In the end, he won, as usual, so Seychelles was to become British territory. I was feeling a mixture of emotions that day: excited to meet someone new, sad about leaving home, nervous of what England would think of me, and scared of leaving Papa. I had expected England to be nice, but as soon as I met him, I thought otherwise.
The first words he said when he entered Papa's house were, "I'm here to get my property, Frog," emphasizing the words 'my property' and 'Frog'.
"Bonjour, Angleterre~ No need to be so rude," was how my Papa, Francis Bonnefoy greeted the incredibly rude Arthur Kirkland. They then proceeded to argue over some unimportant fact, believing me to be in my room, not in the next room over, evesdropping.
"So where is she?" questioned a now very-annoyed Brit.
"Oh, Seychii~ Could you come here?" Papa France called me. Knowing that it'd take me a little while to get downstairs, I waited a few moments before walking in and asking, "Yes? What is it?" I could tell that England was surprised by one of three things about me by the way he raised his inhumanly large eyebrows. It was either that I was too pretty to be thirteen, too pretty to be related to France, or very rude for questioning why I was needed. It turned out to be a bit of all three.
"Is this really her, Frog?" There it was again. Calling my amazing Papa a frog. It was so mean! I couldn't help myself from rudely blurting out, "Why are you calling Papa France a frog?" As soon as I realized that I said those words aloud, I covered my mouth with both hands and looked at the ground.
"That was very rude of you, Seychelles. But, nonetheless, I shall answer your question. I call France a frog simply because he is one. Frogs are repulsive, unwanted pests, as is he," England stated, insulting Papa as if he did so on a daily basis (which I'd later learn to be true).
"Oh, I am sorry for being rude, Angleterre," was my aplogy to him. I purposely used the French name for him, just to annoy him.
"Apology accepted," he turned to Papa, " Now can we hurry this up? I don't enjoy spending time in your house."
"Oui. Here are the papers," Papa said, handing the U.K. some official-looking papers.
"And," he continued, turning to me, "Seychii, please go get your stuff." I nodded and ran upstairs while fixing one of my ribbon-typed pigtails.
After a few minutes, I came back down with my things to see them waiting. Papa gave me a bg hug and told me how much he'd miss me and wished that he didn't have to do this. I hugged him back and teared up a bit. After our embrace, England wasted no time in making us leave. After we had walked about a block away, he stopped me, telling me he had a gift for me. At the time I had been excited and eagerly asked for it. I now wish that I hadn't. As soon as I accepted, he put a dog collar around my neck. I remember asking what it was for, in my still-shakey English. And his reply was exactly this: "It's so that everyone knows you are my property." I couldn't believe my ears. In all the years I had known Papa, he had never once called me his property. And now here comes this new guy, steals me from France, and automatically calls me property, as if I don't have feelings. Oh how I wished that I could run back home to Papa. But Angleterre had already snapped a leash onto my collar and began pulling me along. I had no choice but to continue walking away.
