Why am I writing this?
That evening, Misa Amane picked up the stick of deep red dye and slowly ran it across her lips. Her face was already covered with fine, pale powder and skin coloured fakery. She tilted her head back slightly and ran a pencil over her eyelid, then followed that with a tiny sponge and more powder, this time in a peach pink. She brushed powder almost the same colour over her cheeks and down her nose. She stared into the mirror.
"Something looks wrong to Misa..." She whispered to herself. Perhaps she thought it was her hair? She bushed it again and restyled it, up into a glamorous bun. "Something still looks wrong to Misa..." She whispered again. Perhaps she thought it was her clothes? The pretty head turned to the corner of the room. She rose, and glided, almost silently towards it.
Misa had lost twenty pounds over the last week. Normally that would've been a cause for celebration, but I don't think she saw anything worth celebrating anymore. All point had disappeared from her life. She began to lace up the bodice and perhaps she began to think. What would Misa's mama say? She'd be so proud... wouldn't she? But Misa's mother could get anything out of Misa. Misa's done something bad, she can feel it. And Misa's mother could get anything out of Misa. Would Mama still love her? The skirt was full, and floor length... and everything she had dreamed of. This was everything she had ever dreamed of... except... not. Misa turned to look at the mirror.
"Something still looks wrong to Misa..." Her voice was still whispering. She cried so much the last night that I doubt she could have managed anything louder. She left, into the rain. Stepped into her car and began to drive into the city. This image would have looked a little wrong to most people, but Misa saw no problem. She arrived at her destination. Stepping out, she paused for a second, letting the drops soak her skin and drench her hair through the material over it, took an imaginary arm, and stepped forward. She opened the doors onto an empty church. There were no witnesses. No vicar. No Light, standing at the altar. The wind blew a gust in her direction, blowing her skirt, veil and hair forward, ushering her inside. That's a nice image, I think – the bride in the rain, with the wind blowing her gently into the church, towards a new future. We'll ignore the running mascara, sodden skin and dead flowers, coupled with the dead eyes and expressionless mouth. She walked slowly to the front of the church, head held high, back straight. I think she must have imagined the music, flowing around the arches. She imagined the witnesses, her mother, sat in the front row, crying, Sachiko and Soichiro Yagami, looking proud but sad that their son is leaving them, she imagined the bridesmaids, Sayu Yagami, and Misa's best friend, Yumi Sakamoto, both wearing knee length dark blue frocks. Most of all, she imagined Light. Light, with his eyes of gold and shiny brown hair. She missed him so much – which was, I suppose, the entire reason she was doing this in the first place, the one, last, final link. She must have known the ceremony, for she stood there mouthing the words until she had to say something. She must have felt so sad, saying those last two words, supposed to be the best words she said in her life.
"I do." She slipped her slim finger into the band of metal, and I think she had signed the book before it hit her. Misa knew what looked wrong to her.
"Misa is what looks wrong to Misa..." Those must have been some of the most painful nine words she'd ever said. I do. Misa is what looks wrong to Misa. Then, she folded. They found her that morning, skirt spread out over the floor, her legs folded in a kneeling position under it. She looked like a flower. Another nice image. Her hands were over her face, and the tears had not quite dried. She was unconscious. It should have been freezing in that hall. Which is the main reason, I think, that she died later in hospital of hypothermia. It was tragic, everybody said, as they attended her funeral. Such a waste. She was supposed to be getting married, too, said one. And from nothingness, Misa smiled slightly, because she knew she'd got her happy ending.
R&R if you like.