𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 |. 𝙏𝙒𝙎𝙏 .|

𝟏𝟖

——"Happy eighth birthday, Riddle. This year's birthday cake is a low-sugar recipe made with nuts and lecithin-rich soy flour to improve your cerebral function." A woman's voice rang out. What happened to fighting Riddle? I turned around to find an almost cinematic-like experience before me. The only difference was I was standing up in a dark void and was absent of popcorn.

"Thank you. But, Mom...Just once, I'd like to try one of those tarts covered with bright-red strawberries..." a young boy with vibrant red hair and pooling grey eyes entered the scene. It must have been a young version of Riddle, no doubt about it.

"Absolutely not! Those tarts are monstrously unhealthy. I might as well feed you poison! Even just a single slice would exceed your recommended daily intake of sugar." She scolded, a deep frown on her face as she harshly closed the book she was reading and set it down gently on the wooden table before her.

"Now, dinner tonight will be a tuna sauté rich in DHA and omega-3 fatty acids. Now that you're eight, your caloric intake should be 600 kilocalories per meal, so don't eat more than 100 grams of it. Understood?" She sneered with a plastic smirk, her eyes crinkling in the corners sinisterly.

"I'd always wanted to try one of those tarts
with the bright-red strawberries. The local cake shop had them in the window. They shined at me
like forbidden jewels."

"GIRL WHAT THE FUCK—" I jumped around to find Riddle staring back at me, a saddened look in his eyes. "Sorry." He apologized before turning back to the scene.

"That's enough classical magic study for today. Your homework is to read the first fifty pages of the philosophy of language book referenced in today's magical philosophy texts. You may now have one hour of independent study before your potionology lesson." She instructed harshly before turning away and promptly heading toward their kitchen.

"Thank you, Mother." Young Riddle muttered. "I need some time to prepare the lesson materials. I will see you in one hour, okay?" She called from the kitchen.

"I was studying every possible subject,
scheduled down to the minute. When I didn't understand something, the lesson was extended until I did. That was my "normal."" Riddle said from beside me. Huh. A traumatized gifted child...where have I heard that one before?

"...Is someone knocking on the window?" Young Riddle said, walking over to a big window. "Whoa, he heard us!" It was a younger version of Trey. "Hey, come play with us!" A young Che'nya! Who's next, me? "Che'nya, calm down!" It was a young...me?

wait...no...this is fake...it's gotta be.

Riddle turned to me, confused. "I don't remember that..." he said, looking at me, puzzled.  "Neither do I." I said, my eyes narrowing.

"Who are you?" Young Riddle asked, grey eyes brimming with curiosity and naivety. "I'm Che'nya, and that's Trey, oh and that's Y/N! Let's all play croquet! Oh, but it's LOTS of fun!" Young Che'nya exclaimed, putting his nose against the glass with a wide smile.

"I can't. I'm supposed to be doing independent study, and I have a lot of homework to do." Young Riddle frowned. ""Independent study" means you pick what to do, right? My grandpa says play is a form of study!" Young Che'nya smiled wider.

"Just play with us for a little bit!" Young Trey got down to the point. "Surely physical education is a type of study?" Young me suggested, a cunning smirk growing on my immature face. Yeesh, even in my possible in existence I was a little sly fuck.

"...O-okay... Just a little, though!" Young Riddle exclaimed with a small smile. He hurriedly (and quietly) ran out the house through the front door to meet the rest of us.  "Hey, what's your name?" Young Trey asked, adjusting his glasses. "R-Riddle. Riddle Rosehearts." He stammered.

"I had the best time playing with Trey and Che'nya...you too apparently. We did so many things I'd never done before. They taught me lots of things I didn't know. After that, I snuck out of my room every day, to play with them...and you
during independent study time." Riddle smiled toward me warmly.

The scene shifted to an open space with a bench, it was during winter and we all had warm sweaters and scarves on.

"Whaaat? You've never even tried a strawberry tart? They're out of this world." Young Che'nya exclaimed. "Yeah. My mom says sugar is basically poison." Young Riddle sighed, sitting on the bench with a small frown. He looked at the ground sadly.

"I mean, you probably shouldn't eat too much of it, but calling it "poison" is kinda...yikes. You know, my family runs a cake shop. Let's go get a tart right now!" Young Trey exclaimed, standing up. "Really!? But...I shouldn't." He frowned even more.

"Riddle. If your mom asks, you can say you were trying to build up a "poison" tolerance." Young me suggested, with a shrug, putting my tiny hands into my pockets. "Just one slice. It'll be fine." Young Trey mused.

"One slice for YOU, maybe. I want a whole one!" Young Che'nya chimed in with an ever growing smile.

"A bright-red strawberry tart on a white plate. To me, it shined more brightly than any gem could.
That first bite was so sweet. It tasted like nothing I'd ever eaten before. With each bite, I became more entranced...and completely lost track of the time." Riddle beside me frowned in regret.

The scene shifted back into his house. Young Riddle was sitting at his dining room table, disappointingly looking down at the table as he clutched the end of his shirt, eyes slightly pricked with tears.

"I cannot believe this! Not only are you cutting independent study time, but I find you eating a mountain of sugar?! Those two—erm, three hoodlums must have incited this behavior. You must never play with them again!" His mother roared in fury, slamming her hands on the table.

"I'm sorry, Mother! I promise, it will never happen again." Young Riddle exclaimed, tears falling against his fast, desperation in his voice.

"Be quiet! You've broken the rules, and I'll not hear another word from you. Clearly, you're not able to handle the freedom of independent study. I need to keep a closer eye on you." His mom sneered.

"Because I broke the rules, my favorite part of
my day was taken away from me. I vowed to never break my mother's rules again. After all, she was the most accomplished mother in the city, and therefore, the most correct." Riddle said, eyes pricking with tears as the previous scene before us disappeared.

"But Mom...Why? Why does my heart hurt so much? I want to eat a tart! It's my birthday,
so can't I have some just this once? I want to play outside all day long! I want to make lots and lots of friends! Tell me, Mom, please...What rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?" Riddle burst into tears as he ran into me, pulling me into a hug as he sobbed into my embrace.

The world around me started turning black as I heard a single voice ring out through the void.

"Riiiiiddle!"