Taped soap operas on, lights off, covers up and curtains down. That's what was happening at the little hospital in a small, good-hearted English city where many had plans. Whether they were to fly on through treatment or to God, however, not everybody knew. The young with certainly deadly illnesses were unsure and upset over the squabble between their fate, but many tried and usually triumphed in forgetting that they were losing their young lives. These instances were no longer very common, though, given Earth's future proved a success in curing a mass amount of diseases. Believe it or not, the old did not live past what they expected themselves. As far as a particular man in a particularly empty room was concerned, his death was written out at the very moment as he dozed. Shivering at the thought, he remembered semi-vividly when he was young...and that mystical notebook. "Do you need an extra blanke-", the nurse was just a second away from asking. "No, I'm alright. Just a little chill got me.", came the man's unexpectedly smooth voice. With a slight speculative expression in her lips, the young woman smiled gently to cover her doubt. Despite the fact that his eyelids were fluttered closed, he could feel the radiation of her emotions from next to his bed. "Very well. I believe it's a bit late. 22:30, actually, so you should get some rest.", she whispered, patting his extended palm with her fingertips in a pleasant departure. Minutes after she left, the platinum-haired elder reached down gently to grab a small notepad that was as white as snow, clear as to what he was about to write. With a pencil trembling slightly in his wary hands, a letter of no return was written.
Mello,
Two weeks ago, I turned 75 years old. It feels as if two weeks ago I was 19, running rampant with guns and playing with expensive cars in Tokyo. I can safely say that it was a good time in a devestating era, but it came with risks, including near-death experiences. It's even harder to believe that I'm still alive now when I should have died then. As fun as the adrenaline felt pumping through my veins, it is one of the many things I'm not proud of. So many murders, kidnappings, assaults of every kind and anything else that you could think of were crimes I committed. Was it all just because it was fun? Not really. You know that I fight for my way and will. Only recently it has come to my realization (recently being 30-some years ago) that it was the incorrect way to save the world. If anything, I was just like Kira; ruining it bit-by-bit. I'm sorry that you had to live through that. What came before such events were ones that I am especially happy to know of you. As vague as it may be to me now, you were a very determined young boy. Second wasn't enough, one and a half was nowhere near your destination. Number one was all you bothered to settle for. Unlike many, the effort in getting there was apparent. Lazy was the parallel opposite of what the young man you were. As angry as you might have been to know that your attempts in getting past Near did not succeed, know that I think of it and smile at the truly passionate, determined being you were.
Now let me make it perfectly clear that I do not believe you to be flawless. Not then, not now, not ever. Nobody is, but I appreciate the fact that trying was in your best interest. You made a mistake when you had that short affair with Halle. This cause gave the effect; just a couple months later, you had an unborn child in your hands. Given there was no outcome, I would guess that this situation would be a horrid tragedy. Yes, I firmly believe that the outcome and effect are totally different concepts. Your daughter Mellanie was born at the mere age of 21. If not then, sooner or later. Rather than running like Satan was going to rip you to pieces or denying your responsibility, you did what any fair man would do. The relationship with Halle didn't work out, but that doesn't quite matter anymore. The phrase 'if you tried, that's enough' probably was a load of bull in your eyes at the time. I know that for a fact, as trying was not enough on your watch. As far as these kind of issues go, however, that's all you can believe and you at least stayed there for your daughter. Despite your drive for perfection, Mellanie Keehl-Lidner was never in her life told to be so. The only thing I could have ever asked you to do is to guide her into that, and I thank you with my whithering life.
As to end this letter, please give this to her, along with every bit of money I have in the bank once I die. God knows my time is up; I can feel Him asking me to come home now. That cross I would grasp onto secretly during my times of dense fear and (supposably) certain death were times God helped me. Now it's time my soul takes a depart to do an everlasting favor. My hands are loose off the cross hidden beneath my shirt. Dying is the least of my fears now. I also ask to give all of my material items to Mail Jeevas, my long-time friend and partner-in-crime. As for the cross tied around my neck? Give it to him. Now that a new world awaits me, I have nothing to scare me any longer. As long as anything breathing lives on this planet, we always have something to fear, but something to love, too. Ask Matt to use it for something to hang onto in times of horror and to honor in other instances.
This closes the letter to my younger self and the rest of the world. Both of you have done me well until the end.
Mihael Keehl
Finally, Mello dropped the paper, white as snow and cluttered with every word he had been processing for seventy-five years and leaned back into his pillow. After closing his eyes, he would have sworn to see the eyes of a wonderous spirit before hearing a long, siren-like beep. Surely, it was the sign of final release.