I. The Boy of the Past
"Oh, monsters are scared," said Lettie. "That's why they're monsters."
― Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Tom Riddle, always considered himself an extraordinary child. With his aristocratic features and meek facade, everyone who hasn't met him turned to putty in his hands. ( Except the St. Wool's orphanage's inhabitants, they only looked at him with fear in their eyes and called him the son of the devil).
One of the things that made Tom consider himself apart from the other orphanage kids was his uncanny fear of death.
Not necessarily death, oblivion would be a better word for it. The fear of being forgotten. He could imagine it right now, his gravestone,( if there ever was one) stating Tom Riddle 1926 -, His gravestone would be cracked, unkempt, shrouded in weeds and amongst the others who have been forgotten through time or through purpose because nobody remembered him, because he just another orphan boy, just another casualty of the great depression, because he was just one amongst the millions who have strived to be different but was harshly rejected by fate.
He, however, refuses to be forgotten. He will be unlike those around him. He will be known. His name will be spoken with reverence, he will be distinguished. He wouldn't be forgotten like the others. He will be remembered.
He was confident about this fact, after all, he was different. He had what other children in the orphanage didn't. He had it. He knew that it was him that causes the dirty glass windows of the orphanage to break. He knew it was him that caused the other orphans slip in the staircase and break their bones after they dared tease him.
Somewhere in Tom's Bitter, grudge-bearing Heart, he finds humour in the way the other orphans treat him. (How dare they mock him) It was like seeing ants biting a human in a desperate attempt at self-defence.(He consciously bats away the thought that even if they are ants they still do hurt him.) A freak, an abomination, a devil in the body of a child, they said. (He remembers the way the matrons don't even try to help him and consciously turn a blind eye to his bully's antics, because he knew, that they thought that it was true as well.)
It doesn't matter, what the other orphans think of him (He imagines them screaming, begging for help just like he did when he still wore rose tinted lenses. Burning, burning, burning. He imagines their skin licked by flames. The thought lulls him to sleep.) He will be great. His power is only a proof of it. And by the time he comes to power, he will all make them beg (Just like they did to him).