Archaeology (The Ology Series: Prequel)

8- BIRTHDAY UPLOAD

((A.N.// Me: So hey guys! I realised right now, at 9:26pm, that tomorrow is L's birthday! So here's just a little drabble by the birthday boy, since Archaeology is all the boys at Whammy's, and hell- I want to try an L point of view!

L: I hope you capture my character effectively, Izzy.

Me: *sweat drop* Wish me luck.

Matt and Mello: *pissing selves with laughter*))

L P.O.V.

((Mello: 3, Matt: 3, Near: 2))

I never really put any consideration into my birthday. It was just a day when I was born- a day that had just about as much significance as any other. Though I was intrigued all the way through my childhood; such a feeling that stalked me throughout my whole teenage life as well, and crept into my adult life without having even an eye bat at it. What had managed to pique my interest was how people seemed to see such a day as important- yes, you were born. It was on a day of the week, a day in a month. But that was all. Some people even counted to the last minute- as if that meant anything. The date of your birth doesn't matter, I used to think, it is what you do. It is who you become. Yes- you were born. But you craft yourself into your own being. You could save a world, or you could destroy it. People help you create yourself. But in the end, it is you who makes the decisions. It is you who changes yourself.

I realised this when I was only two years of age. I believe this was the time that I determined that I was different from the other children. They used to run around, playing with toys and reading Spot The Dog... while I, on the other hand, was reading non-graphic crime novels and writing my name out in looped handwriting- on one occasion writing a letter to the local MP reporting the evidence of pollution and misconduct I had discovered in my home town and when the man did not reply, I wrote a detailed letter to the Police Constable regarding the issues. My parents were proud. Who's parents wouldn't be? I was a smart child. I was everything they had wanted and more- and I was only two years old. But I didn't want to be what they wanted. I was smart... Too smart for my age. The work was too easy- it was just colouring and learning to write. I needed to be challenged. It infuriated me that feeling- the feeling that I wanted to be challenged. Why am I not like them, I pondered once when I felt such fury. The children around me were sat in a circle listening to the teacher read a childishly easy book to them... They didn't seem to feel that same need to be challenged. They didn't seem to think like me either. As I realised this, I felt... isolated. I did not want to be alone in my own way of thinking. I wanted to be one of the normal children. We do not get what we want, though. It is rare that we get what we want.

Either way, I still dared to dream of an impossible future as I grew up. I dreamed of being like the others even when I was put up a grade or two. I dreamed of being like other children even when I was completing my SATs at the age of 6 which were aimed for those children at the age of 11. I dreamed of being the same as the other children... even when my parents died.

When they had been alive, my parents had been strange people. Possessive, controlling, straining... but kind. They nurtured my intelligence and helped me grow. They fed me, and clothed me. That was all a parent was required to do. My mother was more demanding than my father 89% of the time- a percentage which I had come up with when I was 8. It was just before they died. To my mother, I had to be the best. The best was my target- below was considered failure. Failure was unacceptable. It was not an option. Failure meant less food. It meant less sugary treats. She was strict, but loving. I have fond memories of her- these memories being all I have left. I inherited my thick black hair from her. Her hair used to stick up like a hedgehog and her blue eyes used to narrow into annoyance whenever she couldn't tame it. It was interesting for me to watch. When she tried to tame my unruly hair, it had amused me to see it resisted treatment more than hers.