Story of Our Lives
{Prologue: Fairytale}
'Once upon a time.'
The words that marked the beginning of a fairytale. Fairytales...faraway lands of noble princes, damsels in distress, and magical creatures, talking, singing. Fairytales were made up and told for several different reasons. The most common one is to hide how cruel life really can be. Instead of opening our eyes to the natural disasters, the diseases, the wars, we resort to listening to whimsical stories and believing that one day we will have our happily ever after.
Fairytales.
They were sweet, and often consisted of a heroic prince who rescues the fair princess locked in a tower. Normally, children of young age enjoyed listening to such stories. However, for six-year old Mail Jeevas, fairytales were stupid, useless. They only raised hopes, and once you were full-on believing in that happily ever after concept, reality crushed you.
Most six-year-olds had loving parents who provided for them and cared for them. At night, the parents tucked their child in and sometimes would tell a bedtime story. Before they'd leave your room and turn the light off, they would drop a kiss on your forehead. And the next morning, they gently wake you up, because it's the first day of school, and they're really proud of you. They help you get dressed into proper clothing and once you're ready, you grab your backpack that you've filled with supplies a while back, and you're driven to school. There, the teachers are really nice, and so are the students. The day passes and it seems to be the time of your life. When your parents come to pick you up at the end of the day, you gush at how you already know how to properly write your name, and they smile and nod approvingly along.
Mail Jeevas only had himself to trust and rely on. At night, he went to sleep, mostly with tears leaking from his eyes, because his parents have been drinking again and they slapped him once or twice, in the process giving him verbal abuse. The light would always be on since the boy was convinced monsters would come to eat him, though his parents yelled at him for wasting energy and that they were already paying enough on food. The following morning would seem to be the best part of the day, because his parents would have hangovers and they would be passed out on the couch where they'd been fighting last night. Mail Jeevas eats 'breakfast,' which is a banana and half a cup of orange juice, then takes a while to find clean clothes. He finds his favorite shirt: black and white, striped, and long sleeved. It was the only thing he had from his mother(his real mother, not the woman who his dad married after he killed her). He grabs his backpack, ragged and mostly empty("We're not wasting money on supplies for your fuckin' school, because hell would freeze over before a thing like you would actually learn something!"). The walk to his preschool is short, thankfully, and he arrives with time to spare. He unpacks quickly and without a word, walks over to his desk and opens up his sketchpad. There's a red crayon in front of him and he grabs for it...only a bigger hand has already taken it. An older boy sneers down at him, and on the first day of school, Mail Jeevas gets a black eye from a bully.
Do not despair. Not all children were born under such cruel circumstances, although you have to agree that everyone, at some point in their life, experiences something that would change their life.
Mihael Keehl, six years old, was living a happy and content life. He had parents that loved him dearly, that cared for him properly. His mother raised Mihael to be kind and caring, while his father also taught him how to be dependent on himself. Mihael trained himself to be physically and emotionally strong. He controlled his feelings well and made sure they never clouded his judgement. But then that life-changing experience happened, too soon, too fast. The next thing the blond knew, he was lying in a pool of blood in the kitchen(he could smell the pancakes his mother was making burning) and the man who had killed his parents was standing above him, butcher knife in hand. And then the police were bursting in(he could still hear his neighbor screaming "911! Somebody, help!") and someone was gathering him in his arms and there was a searing pain in his shoulder. Then the world went black, as if someone turned off the lights, and Mihael went unconscious. He woke up only to be told that his parents hadn't made it, and he was going to be placed in an orphanage for gifted children, because unknown to him, his parents had been watching him for potentials of a gifted child. All they had to do now was to test him, and he numbly obliged, passing the test with flying colors. Yet, Mihael didn't care, and the day he was dumped into that wretched orphanage, Mihael disappeared and Mello was born. Gone was the child two proud parents raised. Manners were forgotten, views of the world altered. He was no longer caring and kind; he turned vicious, though not totally evil. He still wore the crucifix his mother gave him, and prayed nightly.
Two boys with completely different personalities: one weak and unstable, the other cold and too proud. Different childhoods, too, but simultaneously the same. They both had gone through pain no child of a young age should ever have had gone through, and they made it.
Two different boys, yet somehow, they would meet, become--
No, let's not get too far. They do, in fact, meet, so let's focus on that one stormy night when Mail Jeevas decided he'd had enough. And the moment he had pulled on his jacket, grabbed his backpack and stole out the window, the two boys' fate, though they didn't know it, were sealed.
One of the most serious things I've ever written.
I plan for this to start from how they met, up until they're working on the Kira investigation. Chapter 1 will be up soon, but don't expect fast updates for this fic. Like some of you know, I have other multi-chaptered stories I still need to update, so I'll be working on those before my grandfather arrives this Tuesday. He's staying for a month, so I'm not sure how much free time I'll have to spend on the laptop.
Feedback is appreciated. :)
.A