Mila smiled at the white bundle in her arms, as her husband, Martin gazed at her.
"What do you think we should name him?" she asked.
Martin stared hard at the baby, the little angel with blonde hair like him, "Mihael. Mihael Keehl is his name."
"Mihael" she whispered and kissed the baby's forehead.
Poverty had hit the Keehl household. Mila now worked as a prostitute, and Martin spent all his time indulging in alcohol.
Mihael loved his parents dearly, and even at the tender age of six, he knew that his life had taken a wrong turn. He knew something as wrong. Whenever he asked Mila, she'd hush him and tell him nothing was wrong. Mihael would have asked Martin, but under the influence of alcohol, Martin couldn't utter a clear word.
It was the night before his birthday that everything changed. Mila died in a car accident. Martin was enraged.
He banged open the door to Mihael's room and staggered towards the cowering child.
"It's all your fault, you son of a bitch" he yelled.
Mihael blinked rapidly, as tears freely rushed down his beautiful face.
Martin's eyes too, were blurred with tears. He crouched in front of his son, "You look just like her" he whispered in that raspy voice, and cradled Mihael's cheek. Mihael flinched.
Angered, Martin slapped Mihael. Hard.
Mihael burst into tears, as Martin threw his lithe body over his shoulder, and proceeded to take him to his bedroom.
As soon as Mihael's body hit the bed, his almost-seven-year old self knew something was wrong. Especially when Martin ripped his clothes off and placed his lips over his. His breath reeked of alcohol. Mihael started to cry, only to get hit again.
The night passed in a blur of blood, sweat and tears.
As the sun rose, Mihael pushed Martin off him, still sobbing quietly. He ran downstairs and thought of calling someone for help. As soon as he picked the phone, he heard footsteps. His scrawny neck was held by a gigantic pair of hands, and he was flung at the wall.
"Trying to rattle on me?" Martin's voice thundered.
Mihael's eyes widened and he shook his head.
Martin leered at him, "Get me a beer"
"…"
"I SAID, GET ME A BEER"
Mihael scrambled to his feet and ran outside.
Three days of continuous abuse and rape had now infuriated young Mihael. As soon as Martin fell asleep, Mihael called his neighbor, "My father… M-m-my father r-r-rapes me every n-n-night"
"What?" he heard the voice of an boy across the line. Mihael's eyes widened. His neighbor was a young girl in her early twenties, not a young boy. Did he call the wrong number?
"Hello?" he heard his friendly neighbor's voice now.
"My father… r-r-raped m-m-"
"-MIHAEL!"
Mihael dropped the phone, shocked.
He was flung across the wall, and beat till he bled, "You bastard, I let you live, and this is how your repay your father?"
Mihael spat the blood out of his mouth, "You aren't my father. YOU'RE A RAPIST"
SMACK! Mihael's cheek stung.
"YOU SON OF A-"
BAM! The door to their dingy house was thrown open, and the police entered, along with his neighbor, an old man and a young boy with disheveled black hair.
Martin slapped Mihael again, "How dare you—"
Precisely then, the boy with disheveled hair proceeded to kick Martin in his face, "Arrest him, officers"
Martin said nothing as the police threw the handcuffs around his big hands. As he was leaving, Martin turned to the young boy, "I'll be back… soon"
Mihael shook as he sobbed into his neighbor's shoulder.
"Don't worry, he's gone"
"H-H-He'll b-b-be b-b-bac-c-ck"
"He won't, I promise you, Mihael"
"Mihael?" a soft voice called.
Mihael looked up to see the boy who had kicked his father, blink at him.
"Y-Yes?"
"I am L"
Mihael blinked up at him.
L.
His savior.
"T-T-Thank you, L. For s-s-saving m-me"
The old man stepped up behind L, "Hello Mihael, my name is Quillish Wammy. My niece here, Anna-" he nodded at his neighbor "-tells me you are a very good kid"
Anna smiled at Mihael, "Mihael is also very creative. You should see his drawings. He's very good at manipulation too," she added in a whisper.
Wammy burst into laughter. L turned to him, "Can we take him with us, Watari?"
Wammy blinked and then looked at Mihael, "Mihael, would you like to come to England?"
Mihael blinked. He knew what England was. He had always wanted to go there. This was his chance, wasn't it?
He slowly nodded. L smiled at him and then turned to Watari, "Please make the necessary arrangements, Watari"
Wammy nodded.
The next day, Mihael found himself in front of a large mansion, with little kids running about.
"Welcome to your new home" L quietly said and walked inside.
Wammy helped Mihael with his bags and led him to his room, "Mihael, as of now, you will stay alone in this room. However, there will be a time when you have to share this with someone. Be prepared, and keep this as neat as possible"
Mihael silently nodded.
"You should go to sleep. You seem tired"
I am tired, he wanted to say, but refrained from doing so. Instead, he just nodded.
He couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning, as images of Martin and those dreadful days flashed whenever he closed his eyes. He sat up and rubbed his face. He opened the door and walked along the deserted corridors. He stopped in front of a huge door. He blinked, wondering what was inside. As if to answer him, the door opened. Mihael took a step back in surprise. In front of him was L.
"Can't sleep?"
Mihael nodded.
"Here, have this"
Mihael stared at the brown slab in amazement and bit into it. As the creamy and addictive piece melted in his mouth, he knew.
He was in love. With this thing L gave him.
"- It's called chocolate" L mumbled quietly.
He looked at L.
It was L that had given him this slab of chocolate.
L had to be God.