Most of you know the world's greatest detective, L, but you don't know his past. His family? He doesn't have one now. His friends? He never had any. His school? He was home-schooled, convenient right? His feelings for others? He only cared for his older sister, Fleur. Not his father, rarely his mother. So what happened to his family? It all started 12 years ago, a 10-year-old boy by the name of Lawliet.
Lawliet was smarter than most. With an IQ of 200 he sometimes outsmarted his 15-year-old sister. His favorite methods were reverse-psychology, blackmail and bribery. Putting someone into a place to where they can't refuse his wishes. Not that they didn't want to, but they couldn't. He knew emotions controlled everything, thus he tried not to feel any.
Fleur, however, was an addict. She smoked, went out with boys (a lot) and occasionally drank. L was the only one that knew about his sister's addictions so his methods of blackmail were very successful.
"You could either buy me a box of strawberries, or I could tell mother you were out drinking last night," L said often. To which his sister wondered how he found out.
"You stumbled through your open window last night and couldn't walk to the bathroom straight," he would reply, "You ended up puking in your old schoolbag."
Though L was home-schooled, his sister was a semi-normal teenager that went to a semi-normal high school and was peer-pressured to do drugs, which she obviously did.
"Fine," his sister always replied, "I'll buy you a box of strawberries and you'll keep this from mom and dad."
"The proper term is 'mother and father' but yes I will," he would always reply back. This entire routine happens every Friday, Saturday and sometimes Wednesdays. Fleur was THAT addicted.
On the night of December 14, 1994, It was a normal night, Wednesday. The day started with "W" so dinner would start with a "W" too. Downstairs, L's mother, Amy, was cooking whole-wheat waffles. Amy worked for the newspaper, she covered stories on crimes. She liked her job but didn't particularly LIKE posting pictures, they made her gag.
"Fleur, Lawliet, time for dinner!" Amy shouted down the hall of the somewhat small house. She set the table and L walked in silently. Amy turned around and jumped a little.
"Lawliet, don't scare me like that," Amy said.
"My apologies mother," L replied. He sat down in his chair with his knees against his chest. He always did this.
"Lawliet," Amy sighed, "Please sit normally at the table. Your father's coming home tonight for dinner so just-" She hesitated for a moment, "Be normal."
L didn't like seeing his father. He always had to "sit like a normal child" and "act normal and not like he knows everything". He just didn't like the fact his father didn't appreciate him for who he was. Just the mere thought made him want to skip dinner and take his bath but whenever his father comes, he has to stay. That was his agreement to his mother.
Shortly after Fleur came in and took her seat, the doorbell rang. Amy went to go and greet L's father, John.
Here comes Mr. Do-This-And-That himself, L thought to himself, What does mother see in this guy that I'm missing? Naturally I wouldn't understand because I'm thought of as "abnormal" n this family. Mother doesn't want to admit it, but she thinks the same thing.
L ate in silence, even when someone asked a question. He would just glare at whoever asked it until they continued on with the conversation they had before.
"May I be excused? I have school tomorrow and I need my sleep," L asked.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay around for dessert?" Amy asked, "It's cake, your favorite."
"I'll eat my dessert tomorrow," L said. He never turned down cake unless he really didn't want to be around. This was one of those times. He cleared his plate and utensils and walked to his room as normally as possible. Once inside, he lied down on the bed, curled up. One thing about being alone in your room is no one judges you for anything, even if you don't care anyway. He chewed on his thumb nail before siting up again. He stood up and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the water in the bathtub and plugged he drain. He thought to himself what life would be like if his father didn't exist. Life would be better. Yes, much better. He wouldn't have to pretend about anything. Just him, Amy and Fleur as a happy family. Now that he thought about it, he wished his father was dead. That he would just drop dead right now. He heard a crash and glass hitting floor.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
A scream?! His father's scream. As if, his wish came true and his father was dying.
"Fleur! Run away now!" It was his mother. What's going on? "GAH!" He heard a loud thump! and Fleur run up down the hall. He opened the door to a frightened sister. He never saw her so scared. Fleur ran in the bathroom, turned off the water and turned out the light.
"Keep quite and stay hidden, understand?" She said. L nodded though she didn't she him do so when she locked the door and ran out of the room. L didn't know that a murderer decided that this was the house he was going to attack that night. L sat in silence against the wall of the bathtub. He heard Fleur scream and wondered, in horror, why everything was so quite. He heard footsteps, loud footsteps, walking down the hall and saw a shadow stop in front of the closed, locked door. It stood there, still and silent. All of a sudden, whoever was on the other side of the door started to bang on it. L screamed. Almost like a scene from a horror movie, a knife slitted a hole in the door, and again, and again, and again, until an arm reached through it to unlock the door and open it. There, standing in front of L was a blood-covered figure who killed his father, mother, sister, and is going to kill him now.
The figure lunged at L and grabbed his neck with a bloody, gloved hand, choking him. He gasped for breathe, then felt warm water surround his entire head. This is what he got for wishing death upon another, his own life. L breathed in water instead of air, accepting his death in the water. This was the last minutes of his life, and it was spent in torture. Then, something incredible happened, the grip let go and he was pulled out of the bathtub. He coughed out the warm water that was in his lungs and opened his dark eyes to see police standing in the small bathroom holding the murderer's hands behind his back.
"You're under arrest for the murder of three citizens and an attempted murder of another," a voice said, it sounded fogged because of the water in my ears, "You have the right to remain silent, you do not have the right to a fair trial and you do not have the right to a lawyer."
"Sure as hell he doesn't," I coughed. Then my eyes slowly closed.
* * *
L woke up in a hospital bed. He could barely remember what happened last night but it was, for the most part, fogged.
"I see someone is awake now," said an old but sharp voice causing L to turn his in that direction. An old man sat in a chair next to his bed.
"Wh-Who are you?" L asked, trying not to sound frightened.
"I suppose you have the right to know," said the man, "My name is Quillsh Wammy."
"L-Lawliet," L choked his name out, "My name is Lawliet."
"Lawliet?" Quillsh said interested, "What a unique name."
"Where's my sister?" L asked. He knew the answer but he hoped, for once, he was wrong. Quillsh hesitated before he gave his answer.
"Lawliet," He started, "She was murdered last night, of stabbing. I know things like this are hard for a young man to go through. Do you have any other relatives that can take care of you other than your parents and sister?"
L paused.
"No," He replied, "No one."
Quillsh thought for a moment.
"You seem like he smart type," he said, "Would you like to stay at Wammy's house? It's an orphanage for gifted children like yourself. Escaping death is truly a miracle and the doctors said your IQ was off the charts."
"I would love to," L said, "But..."
"Is there something wrong?" Quillsh asked.
"People, well, I'm not normal," L said, "I can't sit right, act right or even sleep right."
"And? What about it?" Quillsh asked. This surprised L. Did this man he just met appreciate him? L scratched his head under the black, messy hair.
"Oh, nothing,"he replied.
"Then will you come to Wammy's house?" Quillsh asked.
"Yes," L said, holding out his hand, which Quillsh took. This was the start of his new life. A better one that he could control. His life, as L.