Hey everyone! Sophia Griffin here with yet another fanfiction! This is my first Hetalia one though. ^-^

America: Why am I at the beach? In 1919 of all reasons?

Sophia: It's needed for the plot! Plus, it sounds kinda cool. 1919. LOL.

America: -_-"" Okay then...

Sophia: Just say the disclaimer.

America: Stupid Disclaimer is Stupid.

Sophia: *glares*

America: FINE! Sophia owns nothing but the plot and her characters. She does not own Hetalia in anyway.

Chapter 1:

Beach Troubles

A long time ago, around the time World War 1 ended, America stumbled upon something he wasn't quite expecting.

America was just going to the beach, enjoying the summer weather of the year 1919, playing with a dog that followed him there. He went swimming for a few minutes, giving up on the game of 'chase the dog' that had formed. When he stopped to see where the dog went, he saw it sniffing something near the water's edge. America walked up to the dog and said,

"What the heck are you eating?" Laughter was evident in his voice until he saw what the dog was sniffing.

It was a little girl, looking to be no older than 7 years old, passed out. She had long, dark blond hair with a single hair sticking out and curling in a way like Canada's. She looked dirty, with chapped lips and a few cuts and bruises on her arms and legs. She wore a long dress that had been torn and pulled up to her knees.

"Oh my god… What happened to her…?" America asked himself. The dog whined as a response, biting the shoulder of her dress and dragging her a little bit away from the water. America scooped her up into his arms bridal style, and walked her over to the dry, slightly grassy area of the beach. The dog had a different idea. He bit America's trunks and pulled him even further away from the water.

"WHOA! You're gonna pull my trunks off dude! I'm coming, I'm coming! Just let me get dressed!" America yelped in surprise.

He set the girl down and quickly changed behind a rock. The dog stayed right next to the girl the entire time. America threw his trunks in a bag and ran back over to the girl, picked her back up, and told the dog,

"I'm ready now. Lead the way…?"

The dog walked straight to the closest town, which was less than a mile away and all the way to a single house, where the dog barked until someone answered.

The person who came to the door was a young woman named Sarah, the owner of the dog. Her dog was trained to help people who were hurt, since Sarah's job was a nurse and her dog brought people in need to her.

"Um… Hi, I found this girl on the beach and she doesn't look too good…" America tried to explain, Sarah already taking the girl from his arms.

"I see. Don't just stand there, come inside." Sarah insisted. He nodded and followed suit.

"Just sit over there on the couch; I'm going to see how bad her injuries are." Sarah said, and vanished into a different room. America sat there petting the dog until she came back.

"It seems that she is going to be alright. It looks like she had a rough time though. Oh! I'm sorry; I forgot to ask who you are! What's your name?" Sarah asked.

"I-I'm Alfred." America stuttered in slight surprise at the change of subject.

"I'm Sarah. I'm guessing you and that girl aren't related from how you found her on the beach…?"

"No, we aren't." He answered curtly, the little bit of manners he had adjusting his attitude so he wouldn't freak out about the girl.

"I wonder if she has any family. A lot of the patients that come to my door are orphans or children who are lost." Sarah explained. The two continued quiet chit-chat for the next hour or so. By then it was around dinner time, and Sarah insisted America stayed until the girl woke up.

Sarah made a simple stew, the aroma filling the house. When it drifted into the room the girl was in, her eyes snapped open. Her stomach hurt terribly and it was difficult for her to get out of the bed to see what made such a delightful smell.

Quietly, she snuck down the hall and peeked into the kitchen, where America was helping Sarah cook. She laid a hand on her stomach and winced when she was once again reminded about her hunger. She slowly stepped into full view of the kitchen, still unnoticed.

She walked very, very slowly up to Sarah, and gave a small tug on her dress. Sarah immediately looked down to see the source of the tug. Sarah stopped cooking and picked up the girl, who was dreadfully skinny and lightweight, and asked,

"Do you speak English?" The girl nodded.

"Are you hungry?" The stomach answered that one. Sarah giggled and said,

"Dinner is almost ready. Can you wait for a few minutes?" She asked gently.

Now, this young girl was extremely polite, and extremely shy, so, even though her stomach begged her to say no, she simply nodded yes and sat down in the doorway once she was set down.

Needless to say, America really wanted to talk to this mysterious girl, so he began to bug her, asking her a ton of random questions. One of the things he asked was 'Where are you from' and she responded quietly, saying,

"An island." America instantly shut up, and Sarah glanced over for a second before getting back to work. America smiled at the girl and asked,

"What's your island called?"

"I don't know." She muttered.

"How did you come here to America?"

"The boats were full and I can hardly swim. The ocean took me to this place. What is 'America?'?" She asked. The two adults were taken aback by this question. Sarah covered up their surprise by saying

"Dinner's ready!" Sarah got some bowls and a ladle and poured some stew into each bowl. The girl immediately began to eat as fast as her tiny mouth would allow.

She finished off the bowl in less than two minutes and asked for seconds.

After a long while, and thirds, the adults finally got enough courage to ask an important question.

"What's your name?"

Soooooooooooooooooo? What do you think? Reviews will help me to stay interested in my own story and update quicker!