Authors Note: Okay first off MERRY CHRISTMAS! Now seeing as that's out of the way I wanted to thank the two people who added me to there author alerts as well as those who put my stories on your favorites and if your reading this I give you all zombie puppies that never need to be fed, watered or walked and that guard your stories from being tampered with by gnomes. They mess with stories, I'm serious. Anyway I also wanted to inform those reading that I happen to have a poll up to see which story to work on now that I killed my writers block. If you have the time just pop over to my profile and vote please. Okay, now on with my Christmas story!
p.s. I own nothing death note related, this plot is just one that flowed through my head. The characters are not mine and will probably never BE mine! (Though Matt did make it onto my Christmas list)
Just so you know italics will be me inserting info, anything besides that is part of the story as thoughts or what ever
The Christmas List.
MATT'S P.O.V.
My mother was a funny lady. She was the type who could get every aspect of a dinner party put together in less than an hour with no prior knowledge of it, but would forget to feed he child every other night. Or plan the perfect wedding in three weeks, but buy the wrong sizes when school shopping. I didn't blame her though. She was beautiful, dedicated, and scratched a living with her own two hands for both of us.
So she would forget the day to day things, or get my name wrong every now and then. I didn't mind. She was strong for me when I needed her to be and there for me when I needed someone to talk to or play with. She was Mom, and I owe her all my thanks.
With everything else she imparted me with, her hair green eyes and twisted sense of humor, she also drilled into me her wacky belief of Christmas. Instead of an old fat man coming into your house without your knowledge or consent, eating your cookies and drinking your milk. Probably perving on your children and leaving presents. She believed that if you did it right the universe would find a way to inject the items you wanted into your life when you needed them.
There were four steps you needed to follow in order for it to work though.
Step 1: write a letter starting with 'Dear Universe'
- First paragraph must contain your name, age, sex, sexual orientation, and current place of residence.
- Second paragraph is to tell the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about what has happened this year to you.
- What you want and an explanation of why (note: the first thing asked for doesn't need an explanation and any explanations given have to be at least one word and can be whatever you want them to be)
Step 2: copy the letter onto another piece of paper so you have two exact copies of the letter, one original and one copy.
Step 3: burn the second one on Dec. first at midnight.
Step 4: carry the second letter folded on your person until you lose it (note: it has to be on accident!).
This is why I am currently destroying my apartment in search of a fucking piece of paper to write my Christmas list. I swear when I don't need paper I have it, but given the slightest hint a might need it I can never find a single sheet! (Maybe I should stop making them into paper airplanes and throwing them out my window). Oh wait…. Ha! I almost forgot the sheets I had stuck under my X-box so I would have them for now!
Score! Good job Matt! (Mental pat on the back) yeah!
Voice 1: come now Mathew, you know as well as I that your mental weirdness can get much worse.
Oh yeah did I forget to mention that I hear voices? Well I do.
Annoyed I got a pen and sat down "shut up I have to start my list"
Voice 1: how hurtful. It is not like I chose your mind you know. It's bad enough I'm stuck in an idiot; don't insinuate I did it on purpose!
Voice 2: Hey… you know; you're a fucking crack-pot. Can't even control the voices YOU created.
Voice 3: no one would blame you Matt, just go over to the window and jump out. Your on the sixth floor, it would be quick and painless. We would finally leave you alone.
Voice 1: yeah… maybe I'd finally get out of this marshland you call a brain! Just take the plunge dip wad.
"SHUT UP!" I yelled, voices in my head making me depressed were so NOT what I needed right now. Damn it!
I paused to make sure 'They' were done bothering me for the moment. Deciding they were, due to the silence, I decide to use the few moments of peace I was gifted with to sit down and write my letter. Knowing for sure that any moment some, one either inside my head or outside it, would start yelling and make me to infuriated to be able to complete it.
*Matt's letter* as he is writing everything is unusually quite so I'm only putting the letter
Dear Universe,
It's me again, Mail 'Matt' Jeeves. Twenty-three years old as of February first, I'm still male and still gay (as you should already know because neither of those facts will be changing in this lifetime.) I have moved a few times since last Christmas and my new place of residence is currently at 9967 Clover Drive. I'm the only apartment on the sixth floor.
This year has been a… eventful… one, but the moment that sticks in my mind the most has to be the 'trip' I took with my (now ex-) boyfriend. He called me up and told me to pack enough cloths for four days and he'd pick me up at six. So I do, and he did. We drove for a couple hours before pulling up in front of a cute little cottage-like house. There I get introduced to his WIFE. It gets a bit blurry from there somehow ending up with him in the hospital and his wife filing for divorce. Something about him treating such a beautiful, fragile creature so despicably. That if he didn't have the decency to choose one to begin with, he would end up with neither. So yeah, one heartbreak down, more to come. Go life, you rock. NOT!
Now, onto the part were I demand and you give. I'm listing them because its easier than trying to weave them into a paragraph and I'm just that lazy today.
SILENCE
An angel, to make the voices in my head shut the hell up.
A tease, to let me know I'm still alive when they leave.
A friend, so I wont be alone.
A love, so I can feel whole again.
A light, to ward off my depression.
A demon, to protect me in those moments I just don't care and my biggest enemy is myself.
A genius, so I can actually HAVE a full conversation with someone without getting bored.
A fool, to laugh with.
A boyfriend, to get these women off my back about marriage.
Warmth, come on its winter and my apartment's cold what more explanation do you need?
A body, to hold (or hold me) as I sleep.
Comfort … for the nightmares.
A wireless X-box controller, I just stepped on mine.
Paper, this is the last sheet in my fucking house I shit you not.
See only fifteen things, not much. And most of them can be combined in one. (This is preferable since I Hate crowds.)
-Matt
*End Matt's letter*
THIRD PERSON P.O.V.
The second Matt was done signing his name at the bottom of the pages, a shriek split through his apartment, having come from the apartment above his. If earlier yelling had been any indication, Matt guessed Gina just got fired… again. This was quickly followed by a crash as the guy under him got mad at something said over the phone and threw what sounded like a vase against the wall before cussing as loud as he possibly could.
Matt rolled his eyes, ignoring the headache that was starting in favor of searching through his pockets, only to curse a second later at finding out he had no cigarettes. Checking the clock and deciding a few minutes couldn't hurt (yes he's a procrastinator, deal with it) Matt burned his copy of the letter. He folded the other and grabbed his mini cross bow, rigged to automatically reload in one and a half seconds after the shot is fired, (he wasn't allowed to carry a gun anymore because of his ex). Stuffing both items into his pocket as he started out the door to go buy some smokes as there was no way in heaven, hell, or earth that he could hold till morning without massacring every living thing in the apartment complex.
Opting for the stairs rather than the elevator (the whole 'hating crowds' thing also applied to small, confined places) he glided down with a grace that would have surprised anyone that knew new him. For a recluse hardcore gamer, they were still surprised he wasn't fat. It was as if his body disobeyed the natural order. He didn't work out, but was mostly muscle and had enough endurance to run a few miles none stop. (Not that he ever would! Unless of course death was the only other option, or the loss of all video games.). His crimson hair stayed however it was when he woke up, proof of him not even wanting to put the effort into tidying it.
Hanging a left as soon as he exited the building, he made a beeline for the convenience store, taking the path he knew from experience would get him there in less than ten minutes. Or at least it would had it not been for he jeers and laughs coming out of the ally halfway there followed by painful grunts and the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Turning to peer at the group in the ally, not one of them noticing him there, he watched as the three dudes left standing kicked the blonde…boy, on the ground, who was covered in as much blood as he was leather.
Without blinking Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out the mini crossbow. He cleared his throat just loud enough to get the closest guy to turn and look at him, firmly planting a neon green arrow in the dead center of his forehead. A twitch his wrist had the other arrow planted in the next guy's heart. The last guy standing got an arrow to the leg and probably would have been fine had he not ripped it out, severing his artery in two separate places. Matt stood there long enough to watch the man bleed to death, ignoring the calls for help and pleading to be saved. Only muttering a disgusted 'I don't help filth' when stepping around the guy in favor of studding the pile of blood and leather just barely recognizable as a person.
As soon as it was discovered most of the blood was not the …guys? Girls... he grabbed the phone from the pocket and found only one number in the contacts. Dialing it he waited for the other side to pick up.
-Silence as the phone picked up-
Matt waited a second before questioning 'Hello?'
'You are not Mello.' The reply way immediate and emotionless.
'Ummm… he got into a bit of trouble. Trace the signal and you'll find him' setting the phone down, but not hanging it up, Matt stood up turning to walk back to the front of the ally, not noticing the blue eyes that stared at him or the little square of folded paper fall out of his pocket.
AUTHOR: wow first chapter done! The rest IS written but its 1:44A.M. and I'm tired, plus its Christmas so give me a break. I'll post the rest as soon as I can. Promise! Any way Merry Christmas!