Denial

Quiet

Norman celebrated his birthday alone.

Well, not celebrating for the very least. There was no one to make things festive, so all he did was wish himself well and glory.

Today — or perhaps, tonight — he was officially nineteen. And it had been around almost a year since he joined the Snake Pit. Excluding the months when he had college, he was definitely here since a year. That gave him enough time to rise in ranks here, and he was pretty glad. Even through all that time, he made no close friendship with anyone. Not even with his leader, Ashtem. Not like he was interested in Ashtem anyway; the man was pretty much irrelevant except for the fact he owned this place. His job was to keep everyone inside and working, not to grow a bond with anyone. And it was definitely not his job to celebrate any of his Bladers' birthdays.

Norman sat in the center of his dark room, alone next to a couple candles as he shuffled through texts and letters. All these pieces of consideration were sent by Bladers, the texts being from his parents and other family members. From the Bladers', it was corny "Happy birthday Gold Eye" and "We love you, co-leader" junk. From the text his family sent, it was mainly "Happy birthday, Norman! :)" and "Please call back! You hadn't done so in a while." Although he was one of the few who got Wi-Fi here, he didn't really bother to surf the net or call anyone. Like everyone else, he was absorbed in the Beyblade atmosphere. No one wanted to do anything else.

Despite the birthday letters and texts being what he expected, he went through them slowly. He mainly eyed the curious drawing that the Bladers did on the letters, some being stick figures or some being aesthetically creepy. One of them gave him a hand-drawn picture of Ashtem, probably implying that they thought he valued Norman the most. It was oddly realistic, making Ashtem's true face even more vivid than it should be. It creeped and weirded him out at the same time, but he didn't think it mattered. Especially since the picture was signed with "S.E.," which obviously stood for Silver Eye. With intended mock, the drawing had the words "Happy birthday, attention hog. Ashtem looks at you A LOT."

Why does he keep trying to harass me? If he's trying to turn my attention to him, it's working. He sighed at the idea of Silver Eye wanting even more attention. If anyone in the Snake Pit was truly evil, that would be him. That guy literally see, hear, and speak of the worst kinds of evil ever. Norman felt like trying to strangle him one day.

Of course, everyone in the Snake Pit agreed that Ashtem would be the worst. So terrible and evil, the ones who do know his real name would never want to refer him as that. Norman, being something too old for this, didn't see what was wrong. Sometimes, the faces of the concerned kids really...concerned him. The rumors even concern him as well; there was supposedly a rumor where looking at Ashtem could even drive you insane. Obviously, it was some little kids' dumb lie, but he saw how some kids kill themselves for no reason. It upsets him and makes him confused.

The idea of Ashtem caring about no one was obviously true. No one should expect anything from him. Heck, Norman didn't expect Ashtem to even be thrilled to have taken him in. It was Ashtem's excuse that everyone was at fault for bringing themselves here, and Norman decided to believe it like everyone else. Ashtem wouldn't kidnap some kids for nothing, would he?

Sometimes he liked to think that he was brainwashed into coming here. It was much easier than thinking he was selfish and so absorbed into Beyblade. Much easier than thinking he was special, because he felt like he wasn't to begin with.

Norman sighed out before getting up and putting the letters onto his desk. He grabbed the small candles on the floor, blew them out, and turned on the lights in his room. Perhaps he should do something else than contemplate life and the Snake Pit. The last thing he wants to be is the martyr who questions everything about the system. Although he never paid attention in History class, he knew every martyr like that ended up killed.