Study! Study! Study!
It was fun at first: classes at the special school, a computer of your very own when you were four, classes at the university when you were seven. You didn't even mind not having friends your own age; other children didn't understand anything you tried to talk to them about. It was when your parents kept putting off the promised trip to Disney World that you realized they were using you and your mind. There was always one more class, one more seminar, one more science fair, or one more talk show. What really brought it home was the way they reacted when you wanted to take classes that weren't hard sciences. They wanted you to concentrate on being a world-famous scientist, they gave you a line about the good you could do for mankind - but you knew what they really wanted was to bask in the glory of raising a child genius.
For a year, you played them off against one another, getting them to compete for your affections. They were well on their way to divorce when the Lasombra took you.