Warning: This story is rated mature because it contains the description of a child being mobbed and beaten and contains various sensitive insults. If you aren't comfortable with such content, please do not read this story.
I ran down the stone streets. Beaten up shoes and a mind racing just as quickly as my feet. I've became a fast runner. They trained me without knowing it. I don't exactly know what they'll do after they catch me. Beat me, make fun of me, tie me up to the pole in the center of town and yell at me, maybe they might even try to kill me. But I know they can't. They cry demon. But I can assure all of you. I am nothing like a demon.
I may be the first micronation to exist.
Well, no one is positive if I was supposed to be around while my older brothers were. But, I was there. In a little town in Italy. Well, maybe principality. The principality (or town) of Seborga. Most people in Italy didn't even know this town existed. I'm not exactly sure how I was created. Nor are Veneziano or Romano. But I was there. The problem was, the people back then didn't quite get the concept of a micronation. And no other country had more than two representatives. So they assumed I was something else. I had many titles "demon", "monster", "pathetic demon! Why won't you kill anyone!" It was quite overwhelming for a physical 8 year old. It should be overwhelming for someone at any age!
It wasn't too long afterward that they started chasing me, at first it was just other boys my age. They would yell at me and call me names sometimes far worse than what most called me. I'd do what any rational child at that age would do in that situation, cry and run away. Once they learned that I'd only run away and never fight back. More children chased after me, some even holding weapons! One time they caught me, and they chopped one of my fingers off. they didn't know it would grow back because of being a micronation, or "demon". But I wish they did because now there were some adults chasing after me, being convinced that I was a demon! This time once they caught me. It was far worse, I could barely breathe without getting the wind knocked out of me by someone trying to make me cough up the "evil spirit" within me. I just cried and screamed for help when I could even though I knew no one would help me.
By this time, I had no sympathizers. No one would give me food or new clothes. They'd chase me and I might have broken a few ribs at one point from them trying to knock that nonexistent spirit out of me. A few other times they'd just yell insults and humiliate me through their windows to try to scare the "evil spirit away. This was a daily occurrence. I got used to screaming and getting hit in the stomach and chest until I passed out. I got used to people yelling at me until my ears ringed. I got used to tired, aching feet, and the empty, painful feeling of way over exceeding the amount of time humans can live without food. I got used to all of this and yet when I found a place to hide and shelter at the end of the day, I would still cry and hope that one day things would get better.
Speaking of hiding places, one of my favorite ones was an abandoned flower garden a few minutes away from the town. It was almost magical how despite it being abandoned for who knows how long, the same flowers would bloom each year. Flowers have always became settling and relaxing to me for this reason. I sheltered there every evening in the spring and summer, but a nation always has to keep watch of their country no matter how far away they are. And micronations aren't much different, so I had to return to my post in the morning.
And the same thing happened again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Well, except for one day. I thought that the same thing was going to happen again, but this time during the beating, just before I though I was going to pass out again. I heard someone cry out for them to stop. I had never heard the voice before though, so I knew it wasn't someone local. And that's when I realized that...
It was another nation.
"Stop!" The new nation cried "Stop it! I need everyone with nation powers under my rule alive!"
I couldn't quite hear the murmurs in the crowd clearly. But one sentence was prominent
"It's the Holy Roman Empire himself!" They whispered and murmured and quickly moved out of the way, of course at the time I thought that this "Holy Roman Empire" was an angel of some sort rescuing me because they had finally beaten me to death.
"You there! Who are you? Italy didn't ever tell me there was a third representation!" Holy Rome shouted, I could hear him running to me, dusting my worn clothes off.
I gasped for air and barely stumbled out "I-I am supposed to be the Principality of Seborga... Although I'm not sure there is one yet..."
"Hm... It's alright! Holy Rome said "I was created before the Empire was well known as well."
My eyes briefly lit up with hope, someone like me? A rising power? I have a chance to expand and maybe, just maybe. Become a powerful empire like he will be? Just the thought of being more than a small potential principality brought the smallest smile to his face and the smallest hope to his future.
I then came to my senses and straightened myself up, instantly flinching after remembering my rib injuries. Then compromised by slightly hunching over with my right arm wrapping around the front of my chest.
"You don't need to be scared of me! I'm here to rescue you." Holy Rome smiled, obviously forced. And explained to my tormentors who I was. He then said I had to leave temporarily to meet my brothers and partake in some discussions about the empire.
"Oh... It's another one to look after." Is the first thing I heard as I entered the room of a fancy-looking almost mansion. I was met by a sharp-looking man with black hair and purple eyes. He looked at me like I was just a disposable. Like those paper bags that you get at market. My eyes quickly averted to the floor, my fear running up my throat and threatening to stream down my cheeks.
"It turns out that there's a third Italy, well... I don't know exactly what he is, he isn't really a country yet." Holy Rome replied.
He led me up to another room. There were two other boys a bit taller than me. But they both resembled me.
A/N: aaaah I don't have writers block anymore but I never quite got to finish this story so what happens to Seborga afterwards is up to you guys! (Obviously he lives and grows to be an older teen/adult)
Historical Notes: Traditionally speaking to the principality, the actual principality of Seborga was said to be established in 954 and the Holy Roman Empire had temporary authority over Seborga (Seriously, I swear on my life I'm not just making this up from my own imagination. Although it may just be referencing to the town in Italy where the principality is) It's actually quite interesting to think that Seborga would be in the Holy Roman Empire house, even if it was just temporary.
Also, I find Seborga's thoughts on Holy Rome to be quite ironic. After all, we all know what happened to Holy Rome. Maybe it's best that little Seb stays a small principality.