Hello everyone, and welcome to my FIRST EVER multi-chapter fic! :D

I do not know yet how long it will be, or all of the details of what will happen, so I hope you enjoy discovering with me~!

I dedicate this to littlev123, for she is the one that gave me the inspiration to finish this! It looks like it's turning out that she could end up as my muse~! So, this is for you, my Alfie! :D (which I have just now decided to call you...so I hope you're okay with that... xD)
(and if you are could I be your Arthur? :D)

Disclaimer: I in no way own Hetalia!

I hope you all enjoy this!

Alfred had not always hated Christmas. He used to love it, as a matter of fact. It was his favorite holiday, once upon a time. But ever since their breakup, he could not see it the same. They had ruined the one time of year where his naturally cheerful personality was accepted as the norm and not looked upon oddly.

His parents had always fought, for as long as he could remember. He supposed that they had been happy once, but even from his early remembrance they had been arguing. He had thought that that was normal for all households until he was first allowed to spend the night at his younger cousin Matthew's house. His parents had been so happy with one another, and the whole week he had spent with them he could not remember them raising their voices at each other once.

When Alfred finally went back home, the first thing he had heard was his parents arguing. After the week in a home that was so calm, so peaceful, it had startled him. He had felt like turning around and going back to Canada, to his calmer family, instantly. It was a want that only grew stronger the longer he was at home and as he grew.

It had been the year he turned twelve that it had happened. His parents arguing had progressively gotten worse, and his father had started hitting the bottle more than he ever had before. The whole month of December had been horrible; his dad was drunk more often than not and his mother was never home.

Alfred's dad was a mean drunk, and sometimes he lost his temper. The first time he had hit Alfred, Al had hoped that that would be the end of things. The look of horror in his father's eyes once he had realized that he had laid a hand on his son had been so intense that he felt that for sure that would be the end of it. His father had stopped drinking, and spent a few days doing everything Alfred had wanted.

They had gone to the movies, played laser tag, went shopping for the games he had been asking for all year. All of this had led Alfred to believe that he would lay off the booze and start acting like a father again. But his hope had been shattered when he woke to the loud sound of his father stumbling around the kitchen, his words slurring as he drunkenly sang a Christmas song.

He knew that he should not have expected anything different, but he still couldn't help the fact that hope had blossomed, or the way he felt so crushed when it was shattered. At the time Al had been glad that his mom wasn't home, for the first time the hit was to the face. It had left an unattractive bruise, and he knew that if his mom saw it, it would only cause another fight.

It didn't take long for him to wish the opposite. At the time he had wondered what was keeping his mom out at all hours, sometimes overnight or for days, but with her gone there was no fighting surrounding him so he had been kind of relieved that she wasn't there.

When she came home on Christmas Day, Alfred at first had been so happy. While he did not like when they fought, he did still enjoy when they were all together, as a family. Alfred never understood why that was, since they never felt like one, but it was still how he felt.

By that time his bruise was gone, and the new one his father had given him the week before was luckily in a spot that she couldn't see. He had run to her when she entered the door, crushing her with the force of his hug.

The first sign that something was wrong was that she had not hugged him back, but had instead maneuvered her way out of his grip and into the living room where his father was sitting watching a Christmas special.

Alfred did not like to remember what happened during the next twenty four hours.

It turned out that his mother had come with divorce papers for his dad. She already had her wedding band off and during the argument that followed it had made its way out of her pocket and straight to his dads face.

He didn't stay much longer than that; he ran up the stairs to his room and hid in his closet, his hands over his ears as he tried to block the sound of his parents shouting voices. He bit his lip as he tried to fight back the tears, failing miserably and only resulting in making his lip bleed as the sobs rattled his body.

He had heard, before he ran, his mother tell his father that she had been cheating on him for the past month. Alfred had ran before he could hear anything else.

The beating he received after his mom left turned out to be one of the worst he would ever receive, and would have landed him in the hospital if his father had carried it on just a little longer.

Alfred's mother never came back to the house; she hired a moving team to get all of her things while his father was out one day. Alfred had watched with a heavy heart, a wall slowly forming around it, a wall that would harden and stay unbreakable for years to come.

Well, there was the prologue!

I hope that this was good enough to garner your attention and that you stick around for more!

Reviews are always amazing and would make me extremely happy!