In a moment my clothes snap in the wind, as I try to curl tighter into a hedgehog-replicated ball. A low whistle echoes throughout my small room; it screams death to my sensitive ears, giving me no hope for what is inevitable.

"Evan." My father's cold voice rings from my doorway.

"Yes?" I timidly question. Taking a peek from under my long fringe, which was now an opaque veil reaching down to my cheeks.

"Up!" He shouts, pulling me up from my arm and tossing my form across the room. "Tst tst... We can't have your hair being that long, can we?" He mockingly questions, an obvious glint shining in his eyes.

Training my eyes to my small feet I reply with a: "no, sir."

With an air of superiority my father- whom I wish I had no relation to- reveals a pair of dirty silver-plated scissors. If at all possible, I bow my head further in shame, letting him roughly cut chunks out of my hair.

"Ah, you look much better." He claps his hand on my shoulder forcing me to walk towards the dusty mirror. "Come on, boy! Look at what your father has done for you!"He demands loudly, growling in frustration.

It's at times like these that I wish I could rebel against him, tell him "no" whilst punching him in the face- later followed by skipping happily into the sunset.

As if weighing a ton my head slowly lifts, meeting the eyes of the child trapped behind the glass in a parallel universe. Their eyes dull and lifeless, once pleading with desperation for a miracle to happen...Now given up all hope.

"May I go out to the park?" I quietly inquire, twirling my thumbs in nervous circles.

"No." Giving my slap around the back of my head I quickly shed a tear. "I need you to stay here, boy! Surely you don't people to see you, do you?" He snarled ferociously; baring his yellowed teeth at me.

Pressing my back against the wall I use it as a leverage to stand up. "Why shouldn't I? It's not like I'm an alien!" I exclaim. "In fact, you're the reason I look like this." I add gesturing to myself.

"Why you-" Punch. His knuckles crack in a sickening manner against my jaw, no doubt causing a bruise to re-form since last time.

Raising his hand to inflict more pain upon me, he suddenly stops. Dropping to the floor. "I believe we've caught our criminal." An elder man states into his phone, smiling at me. "No. I just tased him." He said to the person on the other end of the phone, "yes. The police should be arriving momentarily."

Pocketing away his phone he walked over to me, kneeling down to where I had been left. "There, there little one. I won't hurt you." He gently spoke, presenting his hand out towards me. "Do you wish to come with me?"

"Yes." I meekly speak, placing my smaller, bruised hand in his.


"This will be your temporary resistance, as the main house is in England." He smiled softly, opening the door of a hotel room. "L?" He called.

"Yes Watari? Who is this?" He mumbles in confusion, running a hand through his wild, silky hair.

Watari looks down to me, "Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"Erm-I... I don't know." I glumly spoke, hanging my head.

L took my wrist and lead me to one of the sofas, sitting with a folded posture- crouched- and turned to look at me. "Well, how about telling us your name?"

At that moment to Sahara desert decided to move location my mouth. Of course I knew my name, it's just I was always afraid of it; names hold great important to a person and mine was treated as though it never existed.

"Evan-"

"Evan?" L asked, narrowing his large eyes at me.

Shaking my head in turn I choke out a no. "My father only called me that, Evan, the disgraceful son. I never was his son. I never will be, he hurt me, cut my hair and dressed me in these clothes. I never was his son... As I'm a girl."