I don't sleep any more. It's not healthy for me, I know that as I stand restlessly at the window of my gang's current hideout, not even able to taste the chocolate on my tongue, seeing as all my senses are starting to go numb. My hands are shaking due to the constant lack of proper sleep. No fucking wonder, I can't help but think while I watch the much too early sunrise outside. In the real world, it's summer, meaning that the sun sets at midnight or so and rises around four hours later. I vaguely remember having an opinion on that, not liking the sunlight and preferring the darkness, not that it matters now.
This is not the real world. This is a closed little hell full of drugs, whores, gunshots, alcohol and my obsession. My fucking obsession, the burning desire, the one thing that I still care about, that I am still able to feel. The hate. I don't know how else to put it. People around me call me obsessed, and that may be true, since this hatred is what helps me through these endless, yet almost non-existing nights where everyone else has either left or lies around, passed out from drugs or drinking. It is the reason I haven't killed myself yet and would never dream of it. It is what makes me what I am. Without it, I'd be nothing. This hate, this obsession is what has driven me this far, making me cruel, some would even say heartless, and so very determined to become more.
A lot of people in my business would surely be pleased with having my position. I mean, the brain behind huge parts of the Mafia, that's not bad, is it? But the problem is that this isn't what I wanted. When I was a child I dreamt of becoming a famous detective, one of the good guys, you might say. When I think of what I've become, I disgust myself to no end and a knot of some kind seems to appear in my throat, making me want to scream, anything. Something. At least something would be nice. I have a rumour for acting on my emotions, but how is that possible when I'm not even sure if I have any left? Only these two feelings. The hate, well known and familiar and this new, strange knot, that somehow manages to make my eyes water up, another thing I don't think I've ever tried before. I think I'm actually about to cry right now.
I make sure my back is turned to the room and that it seems as if the sunrise has my undivided attention, as I let a silent tear fall from the corner of my almost red eye and down my cheek to eventually land on the floor, and I move. I place one foot in front of the other and carry myself outside, knowing the dangers of anyone seeing my face, but I don't care. I can't be in there right now. I walk up to a random wall, which had once been perfectly new and beautiful, but was now starting to rot and the red paint was flaking various places, exposing the grey building inside the rotten mask. I lift my hand to let it slowly, almost carefully, touch the sickening material. Turning my back against it and nearly collapsing onto the ground beneath me, I bury my face in my palms, letting out loud sobs while the tears float down my face like tiny little rivers, and I feel insignificant. Unimportant. Inferior.
Damn it, this wasn't what I wanted. When I met him, he was like a brother to me and we talked and laughed together, acting like children normally act. I loved him. I had a dream that we would always be together and that we would become L's successors together somehow and the whole world would know who we were. Everyone would recognize our genius and brilliant minds and they would all know who M and N were. Then the fucking rivalry came into the perfect picture, ruining everything. We started to take serious tests in school and I noticed that he was always better than me. It didn't take long for me to develop an obsession and I couldn't think of anything else than how much I wanted to surpass him. At first there would be times when I missed being around him, but as time passed away, so did the desire to have everything back the way it was. I started to hate him. And I couldn't let go of that hate, that eternal grudge I was holding on him for always being so much better than me.
And now, I am just pathetic. I am sitting at shit in the morning, leaned up against a rotting building and crying my fucking eyes out because I have become the exact opposite of what I used to dream of becoming. I wish myself ten years back in time, to where we first became friends, so that I could perhaps prevent myself from ruining my now worthless piece-of-shit life over a stupid rivalry. If I could change one thing in my life, that would be it. Then I wouldn't be sitting here right now, I'd be with my childhood friend, my brother, we'd be working together and we would most likely have captured Kira by now. I know very well that I will never be able to change what has already happened, but I want it so fucking much that I would be prepared to kill myself for just one day like that. One day where I had never hated and where we had never destroyed each other's lives like that.
I wipe the tears off my face and notice to my pleasure that the knot in my throat has somewhat disappeared. I sigh and get back inside, shaking Jack awake, since he is lying on y favourite spot on the couch, while telling him not to fucking drink at work. He looks confused at first, but then gets up, hopefully with a bad headache and he hisses in annoyance.
"What the fuck's your problem, Mello"
I just turn my head at him, giving him a look that he doesn't have the intelligence to translate, but I know that Near would immediately have understood that I am my problem.