In truth chapter 2-
He doesn't remember much of his beginning. He asked Papa and his uncles, all of their answers were about the same. They had flickers of running through their lands. Alone but not, feeling their land and the shores that lapped at them, the life of the plants and animals. Peter doesn't know at what point the flickers became solid coherent thoughts. He remembered the scent of the sea and the water against his body. The concrete, instead of dirt. Living, running amongst the soldiers, though so very small. Their eyes towards the water looking for the enemy. The enemy? Who was the enemy?
He was told the enemy was a monster with yellow hair, and later that the enemy was no longer a threat. But the question remained- who was the enemy? The men told him that the war was over and their enemy was gone. But what was war? Who was the enemy? It was 1956, he'd had awareness for over a decade now, but he still didn't understand their words.
He darted about the deck, looking for "The Enemy", when he ran straight into a strange man. Was this the enemy? He had yellow hair and huge eyebrows. The enemy crouched down.
"Hello. I am known as Great Britain-" He'd heard of Great Britain, "You look terribly lost, lad-" Peter tried to move away. "I'm afraid you don't understand. You are Fort Roughs, and I've come to take you to my home. We have much to talk about. Come along now, Roughs." And the man gripped the boys forearm.
"My name is Peter!" he wailed, head-butting "Britain" and running away. He ran and hid before one of his men turned him in. Traitor.
"Sir." The traitor said, "Roughs." Peter struggled a bit from the traitor.
"Peter. Please stop lad."
"My name is Peter! Not Roughs! And I don't want to go with that jerk Britain!"
"Actually, he's only England… He just took the title because of a disagreement with his brothers."
After a good hour of coaxing and the threatening of his precious marbles (a gift from one of his men years ago), he got on a boat with England and left his land in the distance.
He'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt. That pang in his chest at the loss of his land. And thus he would forever be known as "Jerk England" in Peter's book.
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Chapters will be varying in length and updated regularly. Questions? Comments? Let me know.
Note: Fort Roughs (Sealand) was sunk into the sandbar February of 1943. I'm using this as Peter's birth. Time lapse- 1956 when the last full-time British personnel were removed. And consequently Peter.