Hetalia .feels Lore

(Ch.3) My crackhead father

I awoke in a room, a room in a house in which I had never been in before. "imma keep in hunnid with ya, this house smells like weed", I blathered out of my baby mouth, to which I got no reply. I would get to know my way around this house soon enough though, since I was just adopted by none other than Arthur Kirkland- the personification of Britain. 

Eager to explore my new surroundings, I stumbled out of my room and into what's supposed to be the living room. there I saw Arthur sitting on the torn up couch with a syringe in his hand. once he noticed me toddle my way over to him, and sit next to the couch, he stiffened up, hesitating to follow through with the mysterious activity he seemed to be taking part in. "hn- oh..? little boy, Father's busy.. here, watch some cartoons and don't be a bother, mkay?~". I moved over a few feet, and sat down on the shag carpet in front of him, facing the TV in front of us. Though I was secretly watching him out of the corner of my eye, worried about the pointy syringe. Arthur proceeded to fill the syringe up with a strange liquid, tie something around his arm, and then inject the liquid into his arm. He quickly got what, to me, looked like stickers, from his pocket, and stuck them onto his tongue. He didn't get to do much after that because he collapsed and started foaming at the mouth, seizing on the floor about a foot away from me. 

If I didn't know better I would have thought he was dying, but the thing about us personified countries is that we cannot die. Not from physical damage nor illness. though it affects us in the same way, we cannot die. For example, if a country like myself were to freeze to death, I wouldn't be dead- but experiencing the feeling of dying over and over again until my situation is changed and I am no longer in the one where I am freezing to death and shit. So knowing that he couldn't die, I didn't pay much attention to the now upright and walking (or at least trying to walk) British man. He appeared to be talking to someone who wasn't there. he kept conversing with a "flying mint bunny" and things.. but he was talking to himself. But that's what hallucinogens do to ya. You know, as interesting as this sounds to watch, it gets old after a few weeks. Sure he changes it up frequently, but when you have nobody to look after you and the only other person in your life is constantly on drugs or unconscious, shit gets fukin old man... Most people think I'm stupid, but that's because I learned what I knew from TV and movies. The senile old man didn't even mention to me that I had another father and a brother until they came to visit. I had been living like this for about two months until that doorbell rang and I met my other family members, Papa, and Matthew.