Arthur Kirkland's Problem

Chapter Three:

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  A little boy with messy blonde hair and bright green eyes opened said eyes sleepily. His entire body was sore, and his head throbbed.

         He sat up and looked around the room; he was in a small room, on a green couch. The room had two other chairs, a tree, and some pictures on the walls. There were two red doors, both with small windows on them, each on opposite sides of the room.'Where am I?'

          One of the doors opened, the one to his left, and two men stepped out.  One of the men had strawberry-blonde hair and red eyes, and the other one had platnium-blonde hair and blue eyes. They stared at each other for a little while, the men looking guilty but trying to hide it. Then they scurried out the other door, the one leading outside, leaving the poor boy alone to wonder why they looked so familier.' Why can't I name them? Perhaps they're just people with common faces..'  When he thought about it, he didn't have anyone to match them to. He didn't know anybody; 'But that's not possible...' It was possible when he didn't remember his own name. Or where he came from, or where he was, or his birthday, or anything.

          Soon a woman came in from the door the men had come in through, with brown hair tied in a neat bun, red lipstick on her plump face, small gold earings, and sad eyes. "Hey, how are you?"

          "...My head hurts." he replied, then added,"Where am I? And, if you don't mind, who are you?...Or rather, who am I?"

             'Why can't I remember?'

              The fuller-figured woman smiled, though her brown eyes betrayed her sadness. "Sweetie..." she said softly," My name is May Aglaeca, and you're in an orphanage. The people who dropped you off said that you had amnesia, and your name is Arthur Kirkland. That's why you don't know anything about yourself. I'm sorry."

             "An orphanage? So I don't have any parents?"

             "I'm so sorry."

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           The flight back to London was depressing.

          "It was our only choice," Norway said, seeming to need to comfort himself as well as Romania.

                  "Tell that to America." Romania replied,"He's going to kill us."

                Norway hesitated, then said," Then we'll die protecting our friend."

                 Romania had no answer to that. He did have, however, a horrible feeling that what they did wouldn't sit well with other countries."Norway?"

                  "Yes?"

                 "Let's promise to not tell anyone what we did unless it can benifit Arthur." he held up a pinky.

                    Norway stared at his pinky, then interlocked it with his own."I promise."

                   "Me, too."

               Norway pulled their pinkies, then took his away. He knew that no matter what they did, unless England was with them, a lot of hurt and anger would make their way toward them because of their actions. He had told Romania everything. At least, that's what Romania thought. Something he hadn't told him? The country of Britain now doesn't have someone to take care of it.