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Lloyd is barely 5 years old when his mother abandons him. Just finished being a toddler, a small child with no perception of the world and all the evil it stores - he‘s left alone in the big building, several adults towering above him and looking at him with such pity in their eyes. He doesn‘t understand, of course, just why they would look at him like that; as if something bad had happened. Just now, it had been him and his mother.
Where his father was, the boy had no idea. He barely even remembers him anyway, the faint memories of a gentle voice singing him to sleep. It‘s not there anymore, hadn‘t been for a couple of years now. It had confused him, admittedly, and made him sad. He thought his father had loved him, so for him to leave as if Lloyd held no importance to him at all. It had hurt.
Lloyd tears his eyes from the ground to look at the elderly woman in front of him when he hears her sigh with exasperation. He raised an eyebrow as if he was asking Why are you sighing like that? Something‘s bothering you?
Next to him, someone takes his hand, theirs much bigger than the tiny, soft-skinned hand of the boy. His attention now having shifted to the manly figure, he looks up and stares at him with those big, shiny eyes and croaks out the question:“Where‘s my mum?“
The man‘s frown is as visible as the stars in the night sky, the look of extreme distress not unfamiliar to Lloyd, who had seen the same look on his mother‘s face far too many times recently. He wonders, just what had happened to make the man so bothered? Was it something Lloyd had said? Or done?
Another sigh makes his way out to the young boy‘s ears and he‘s starting to get anxious, because why do adults sigh that much?
„Look child,“ someone begins and he wants to interrupt them in order to tell them his name, lest they don‘t call him child, but the adult continues „your mother has some business to take care of. She can‘t take care of a child as young as you simultaneously, so she left you here“.
Oh. That wasn‘t that bad, right? If it‘s just one of mum´s work business, then he wouldn‘t have a problem staying here. Needless to say, it was strange staying with strangers, but as he followed his mum nearly everywhere after father had left, he was accustomed to meeting new people and then possibly never seeing them again. No bad feelings, all just the little trips his mum called „adventures“ excitedly. This one does seem kind of different, simply because his mum never left Lloyd out of her sight, he was too important to her.
Lloyd nods despite still being confused and having many more questions. He wants to voice his questions, wants to ask Where did mum disappear to? Why couldn‘t she take me with her? Is it dangerous? She told me once that sometimes she would have to talk to dangerous people. Is my mum in danger, sir? Is she safe? But all those questions remained unanswered, as he takes the man‘s hand again and follows him as he‘s being conducted to his room, where he would be staying overnight.
The room is cold, the window having been left open for the wind to leave the curtains flowing and fresh air to enter the room. The bed, which was neatly made and untouched otherwise, was waiting for him to enter it and make it seem as if there had been any life in this room. Nothing more, just a window enabling Lloyd to look at the forest, the bed, a tiny wardrobe and an unnecessary chair.
The day had been long, so Lloyd got into the bed fairly quickly, not before shutting the window, shivering at the cold night air. He took his shoes off and climbed into it, covering himself with the blanket in a span of seconds. He closes his eyes, his eyelashes resting on his round, rosy cheeks, calmly breathing.
It‘s too quiet, he muses, when he can‘t fall asleep even though he had closed his eyes for over half an hour now. His father used to read bedtimes stories for him, stories about how him and his uncle, whom he had seen every other week, fought malicious beings that had ill intent - some of them snakes, or sepertine as his mum called them, other skeletons, and it didn‘t make any sense, since when could skeletons walk and talk and act like humans? And snakes, really? So Lloyd giggled everytime and fell asleep listening to those fairy tales, being discreet, wishing he‘d see those creatures sometime in the future.
After his father had left, he had trouble sleeping. He‘d stay up way past his bedtime, recalling the fairy tales and talking to himself, as if he had gone insane. His mum had watched him every night, begrudgingly so, and decided to calm his anxiousness by hugging him closely to her chest, that had always felt warm when the small boy whimpered and cried and said mommy, mommy, I miss dad, I want dad. His mum would stroke his hear, caress his cheeks and wipe his tears, press soft kisses to his small forehead to soothe her upset toddler. Some nights, when Lloyd had calmed down and made it seem as if he had fallen asleep in her arms, he could feel his mum‘s shoulders shake as she quietly sobbed into his hair. Lloyd never said anything, he would let her cry as much as she wanted.
In the present, he had nobody to tell him stories, and nobody to hug him either. Clutching onto his pillows a little tighter, pulling the blanket a tad bit closer, he starts to count to 100 and hopes. Spending a night alone shouldn‘t be too much of a toil.
But then, he ends up spending another night alone. And another. The night after that too, and the one following. He spends so many nights alone, that Lloyd starts to get used to going to bed alone, feeling lonely and devoid of family.
————————
They hand him his uniform after a few weeks of waiting. He held it in his hands, inspecting the rough material of the blue sweater.
Lloyd was small, he knew that, but even in the smallest size, the fabric seemed to overflow, the sleeves hanging inches below his wrists. He was, and nobody would admit it, an adorable sight to behold but Lloyd felt none of that.
They had told him, of course, that since his mum wouldn‘t come back, he would officially be enrolled into Darkley‘s, School for Bad Boys. The young boy had listened secretly and made out the words „Son of Garmadon“, „potentially evil“ and „high expectations“.
Whatever he had expected, it certainly wasn‘t. . . This.
Staring up at the boy that were much taller than him, he stood in the new room amid bunk beds and clothes thrown all over the floor. The doors of the wardrobes were opened as socks fell from one of the boxes and for some reasons, the desk area was spotless, as if it hadn‘t been used by anyone for a while.
The boys had a predatory look in their eyes, grinning eerily at Lloyd, leaving him shuddering.
„Ah, so you‘re the new one?“, one of them had asked. Or sneered, but Lloyd decided to ignore that.
„They talk much about you, brat. They say you‘re the son of Garmadon, s‘that right?“, another one, from the corner of the room said lazily.
The blonde could only stare at them with inevitable fear in his round eyes, clutching the sleeves of his sweater. He bit his bottom lip lest it wouldn‘t wobble and give away his state of anxiety caused by the other boys.
I wish mum was here. Mum would keep me safe. And Dad. Dad would scold them, surely.
The floor seemed to be swept away under his feet as he was suddenly pushed hardly, leading him to cascade onto the floor with a loud thud. His elbows his the floor and tears welled up in his eyes at that very moment, concentrating on blinking them away so his pain would become more bearable.
„Answer us when we speak to you, Garmaboy!“,the ginger one hurled, his stance fierce and violent. He clenched his fists at the sight of the helpless, whimpering boy on the floor and spat, „pathetic“, before letting himself fall down on his bed.
„Leave it, Gene. The loser over there can‘t seem to get anything, hah. I mean, he must be useless, too. For Lord Garmadon to leave him like this, he just has to be embarrassed for him. Has to“, another voice belonging to a darker, wavy haired boy said.
Lord Garmadon? Why would they call him that? Is this some kind of movie or show?
„He could never live up to his expectations anyway. Look at his frail body-‘‘, he levelled his finger in the direction where Lloyd laid helplessly on the floor,“-you can‘t tell me that he‘s Garmadon‘s actual son. How embarrassing.“
All the boys in the room started to laugh, and Lloyd couldn‘t help but remark how evil they sounded. It was appalling, really, did they feel no compassion at all? No regret? Mum had always told him to be nice to others an treat them as equals. Just what had their parents been teaching them?
He shook his head, not believing the treatment he was receiving on his very first day. Of course, it was the school for Bad boys, but Lloyd would have never anticipated for him to be thrown around like a basketball, holding no value to any of the people he was stuck in a room with. It made him sad too, knowing that finding friends was probably off the list.
Ah well, it would be fine, wouldn‘t it? The only thing he should hope for is not getting hit, even if sounded horrible even considering such thing to happen to him.
———————————————————
Turns out, it wouldn‘t be fine. It did get worse, after all.
Look, he didn‘t know what expected. But a face that was tainted with wet mud and dried tears that made his face itch and scrunch up consequently, dragging his twisted ankle across the ground, deep into the forest, definitely wasn‘t it. Then he again, he should have expected it. Two weeks were enough to learn more about the nature of these boys, their intentions and harmful words. They made him flinch, harsh insults thrown at him for no reason, when he had done nothing to upset the aggressive set of boys.
Lloyd decides that he has gone far enough for the teachers not to find him for a couple of hours, and leans against a tree as he carefully slides down, wincing at the pain. His breathing was ragged and sniffles could occasionally be heard as he looked down at his dirty hands and the wet ground he sat on. His uniform looked sordid, but Lloyd didn‘t care a single bit. He wanted to go home.
Apparently, his father was evil now, committing crimes left and right and having left his mark everywhere he went, before he suddenly vanished, into another realm, some had said.
That day, when Lloyd passed by a bunch of boys huddled together closely, admiring Lord Garmadon‘s deeds, setting a goal to become as evil as him, he swore he would never be able to smile again. Because they were calling his dad, his beloved father, they were calling him malicious, as something that had nothing on his mind but vengeance. Garmadon would not rest because “evil never sleeps“, yet Lloyd was sure his dad always made sure that his son would be fast asleep, tucked into his soft blanket, because sleep is what a baby needs.
Their descriptions didn‘t match his dad, or the faint memory of him, at all. It was not like he wanted him to be. He wanted his dad to be good, he wanted — he was sure, his dad was good. Never, not once in his life, would he intentionally harm someone, let alone his one and only son.
Lloyd had walked away, furious at their misconceptions.
—————-
It sucks, doesn‘t it? Being proved wrong by the people you despise. So, his father was evil, huh. Lloyd was still pretty sure that he loved him nevertheless.
Maybe, just maybe, he left him and his mum because they weren‘t good enough for him. Or nah, that doesn‘t sound right, maybe they weren‘t bad enough to make him stay.
The realisation had hit him hard for a few days, the small boy crying himself to sleep, calling out for his mum in vain, the emotions surging. After a few days, he wanted to throw up . Again after that, there is some unexplainable rage that emerges from him, making him yell at the teachers and glare at the other boys instead of staring up at them with his big, doe eyes.
Besides all the sorrow he felt, his disheartened countenance, another emotion seemed to emerge from the depths of his soul and he never quiet got the name right.
The now slightly, only slightly taller boy furrowed his eyebrows, a habit he had when he was deep in thought. His teacher‘s voice was long blocked from reaching his ears, not even intending to learn anything about how to break into a locked room during the night when one was forced to be quiet. Quite frankly, it didn’t interest him, and he was sure he‘d be clever enough to find a way in anyway.
Besides his teacher‘s voice, he also willingly ignored the giggles coming from the rows behind him. Lloyd didn‘t exactly know how, but he could feel their judgemental stares on his back.
He taps his pencil on the desk. Tap, Tap, Tap. When he goes back to thinking about his parents, that had both abandoned him as if he wasn‘t worth anything, a useless thing to be disposed of, his tapping becomes even faster. Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap.
He clenches his fists, knuckles becoming white while he held a dangerously tight grip on the pencil.
“Why would you leave a child? If you didn‘t want me, then why did you decide to have me? Cherish and love me when I was a only a baby? Is that it, huh, was I just not cute enough anymore? Had I made my eyes seem bigger, would you have stayed, mum? Had I beat up the other kids, would you have cared enough to not go, dad?“
His tapping ceases when he successfully breaks the pencil into two pieces, the noise indicating that it was not to be used anymore. Subsequently, all eyes were now on him, even his teacher‘s.
He shrunk back into his seat, a pathetic attempt to make himself smaller, so small he couldn‘t be seen. He wanted so badly to be somewhere else, not girdled by the people he hated the most.
A scoff makes its way to his ears and he stares doe-eyed at his teacher that had her hands on her hips, an almost unnoticeable glint of amusement in her eyes as she spat out,“look at you. You never pay attention, your mind always in another place. What are you thinking about, boy? You decide to revolt in the moments when it is not expected of you?“
Lloyd‘s lips part, but no words make their way past his lips. This is past redemption now. Then, he shakes his head, but his teacher was having none of it,“No wonder your uncle wants to have nothing to do with you. He must be ashamed of his nephew.“
Laughter broke out in the room, the teacher was overcome with a gust of satisfaction. She had humiliated Lloyd Garmadon once again, much to the delight of everyone but Lloyd himself, who seemed to be paralysed for some reason.
„Uncle Wu? Uncle Wu! Why hasn‘t he come to see me? He would never want this for me, he loves me, or does he not? Where has he been? Does he even know I‘m stuck here?“
Only when the classroom is empty does he realise that perhaps, even his uncle wanted to have nothing to do with him.
——————-
It is a cold winter night, when Lloyd leaves the locker he was hiding in, petulantly refusing to share a room with the boys who beat him up on the regular. His hands grip the hard material of the locker. His hands didn‘t feel as soft anymore.
Quietly, he walks across the barely lit hallway, not even sure if he was breathing. He couldn‘t be caught now, he had to leave this cursed place, homelessness be damned. After all, weren‘t they teaching him how to be a merciless villain? Lloyd would show them after some time. He just has to get out of there and find somebody who will help him. An accomplice, he muses.
So, the boy takes step after step, passing by more lockers, the teacher‘s lounge (which he makes sure to flick off) and the classrooms. The sleeping quarters were in another building, luckily. Usually, there were some boys out during this time, intending to be evil by staying up late. Little menaces.
Lloyd‘s eyes widen at the sight of the door, and for a moment, it seems like he can‘t move. There is a dreadful feeling deep in his stomach, the one that makes you think you’re going to die from organ failure. Beads of sweat run down his forehead, as he nibbles on his own lip again. Well, it‘s not like he had something to lose anyway, right?
Sure, he‘d maybe miss Brad. Brad played pranks on him still, but he always looked guilty when he did it. Like he regretted it, even. Lloyd was convinced the other had a passion for gardening, too, but Brad would always seem ashamed when the other boys brought up his embarrassing hobby.
Lloyd winces. Leaving Brad alone with these jerks, it felt.. bad. Was this empathy? The teachers had always taught him that empathy did no good.
“It holds you back from achieving your goals,“, the ugly and wrinkly teacher lectured one day, emitting the aura of somebody who was not messing around, “when you have to make an important decision, you all should always think about the outcome that‘s going to benefit you the most.“ Her eyes roll skywards for a short moment, “your feelings for somebody else, no matter platonic, romantic, whatever, they shouldn‘t hold you back. There‘s only you, remember that.“
The feeling in his stomach doesn‘t subside, but Lloyd steps out anyway. It‘s okay, he tells himself. I can do this on my own.
His father left him first, and then his mother did too. His uncle never bothered checking up on his state, so that‘d mean he doesn‘t care either. However, now Lloyd understands, due to that teacher‘s lesson, that they have their own goals that they want to fulfil. They weren‘t held back by their own feelings, so obviously, the teacher was right.
A gust of wind hits him in the face, and Lloyd freezes, momentarily missing the warmth the building provided. But there was no going back now.
He looks back at the school one more time, and then promptly walks away.
He heard they were planning on throwing him out anyway. No need, he‘ll leave on his own.
After all, Lloyd was older now.