Matthew sat in the small log cabin him and his father lived in, chillingly
silent. He was only 9 years old.

His mother had died when he was young.

Some people even said his father killed her.

His father was a drug addict.

Mattie's father would often go into the town many miles away from their cabin in
the woods to drink, leaving his son with a small amount of food and water to
sustain himself.

He'd been gone for over a month now. Matthew was out of food in the dead of

"When will Father come back?" the child whispered to himself.

The only answer was his stomach crying out with pain and hunger.

Matthew went over to a small wooden box that contained his father's most
precious items. He pulled out a small photograph of a young woman with long
blond hair and sparkling eyes hidden by glasses.

"Mother..." he whispered.

Laying down on the cold floor, Matthew let a small smile escape with his tears.

"I'll join you soon. Wait for me."

A final sharp pain echoed in Matthew's hollow stomach, and he breathed his last


A small child with blond hair awoke beside a small stream. Another boy stood
above him, holding out his tiny hand.

"Come on," he said. "England and France are waiting for us."

The nation stood up and clutched a small white bear to his chest.

"Who are you?" the bear asked.




"I'm Canada."

A/N: Credit goes to the original creator of Hetalia Theory creepypasta! I just had to write the one for Canada. It's depressing :(

I do not own Hetalia. If I did, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales would exist.