Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters in it. I do however own the personification of Gaul.

8. Cut

France jumped in fear when he heard his father shout his name. When his father shouted, it was never good. He looked over as Gaul stormed into the room, looking downright furious about something.

The boy stood there in front of his father, looking up at him with wide, fear filled eyes. He was shaking in fear, and he struggled to keep his voice from giving out on him.

"W-What did I do?" Gaul said nothing, but grabbed the front of France's shirt and swiftly backhanded him across the face, the impact making a loud 'SMACK'.

France yelped and covered the side of his face with his hands as his father let go of his shirt, dropping him to the floor. Tears welling up in his eyes, he let out a quiet whimper and looked up at Gaul.

"F-Father, w-what did I do?"

"You know what you did!" Gaul glared down at his son, and France sniffled, looking down at the floor.

"I didn't- didn't do anything."

As Gaul stormed back out of the room, muttering obscenities under his breath, France wiped his face with his sleeve, careful to not touch his now swelling cheek. He also began to taste something metallic, and he gingerly touched his lower lip. It had been split open from the force of the hit.

More tears rolled down his cheeks to replace the ones he wiped away, and he let out another quiet whimper as he stood up. Deciding not to go outside, so as to not risk running into his father again, France instead ran straight to his room.

30. Fake

Whenever France had to go anywhere with Gaul, he would act like his normal happy self. He'd smile and greet the people he knew, and have brief conversations with them. To the others, nothing seemed wrong, he seemed just as normal as ever. But little did they know that every smile he gave them was fake, every laugh forced, the happiness he clearly expressed, fake. All of it was fake. It all disappeared the moment he and his father were out of the sight of others.

36. Midnight

He hadn't been able to sleep at all. Not one bit. France just couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he had sat there on his bed, wide awake, with the fear he felt making him sick to his stomach. When he glanced out the window, he saw that the moon was high in the night sky, and he knew it had to have been somewhere close to midnight by then. But his fear just wouldn't let him sleep. To try and distract himself, he moved to sit by his windowsill and tried to count the stars. He kept counting, sleep still refusing to take over, and before he realized the sky slowly began to turn pink as the sun began to rise.

40. Fear

For most of his childhood, France feared his father. And not just because he was an intimidating man, either. He was also a man that was quick to anger, and more often than not resorted to violence. France had every reason to fear his father. Sometimes, that fear would keep him up at night, and he wouldn't sleep. He was that scared. That scared of his own father.

56. Hurt

His face hurt. The hand-shaped bruise hurt, specifically. It always hurt when his father hit him, but he started to feel as if it was starting to hurt less and less. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. As time went on, he began to come to terms with his father's violent nature. It was just how he was. It didn't reduce the number of beatings, however, but he found that he no longer cried.

73. Struck

France was never truly scared of his father until the first time he hit him. Before that, he was more nervous than scared, and wasn't as quick to do as he was told. But that changed completely the moment Gaul had decided to hit him across the face, and for seemingly no good reason.

He had hoped that it wouldn't happen again, but unfortunately his hopes were in vain. It was only the beginning.

86. 86

Eighty six times. That's how many times his father had hit him over the course of three months. Every time because of something that wasn't his fault, but simply because his father had been angry about something. He couldn't help but wonder how many more times he would get hit before it all would stop. Before his father finally came to his senses and realized what he was doing.

91. Scar

If one bothered to look carefully at his jawline, they'd see a thin scar running from the corner of his jaw to his chin, although it would be somewhat faded. His stubble would also make it difficult to see, and the scar would be completely missed unless someone specifically looked for it, or he told them about it.

The scar was a 'gift' from his father, back when he had decided to try yelling back. It was something he didn't do again for a long time. Not until Gaul tried dragging his daughter into the situation.

99. Space

'Keep running. Put as much space between him and you as possible.'

That's what he kept telling himself as he ran through the woods, the fields, across the streams and over rocks.

'Keep running. Increase the distance, before he comes looking for you.'