Needed to vent; wrote this. I don't own Death Note. That is all.

Dark Room

The door shut with a definite and distinct click, the deadbolt was thrown, and Mail was alone in the cold, dark room once more.

The door had been locked from the outside and not even the slightest bit of light made it into the cold confines of the young red-head's "prison". His mother had learned to put a blocker there long ago to rob him of the slight comfort that small crack of light could give.

The small red haired boy braved the dark for an hour before his mind played tricks on him. The shadows became darker and moved, the walls closed in around him, and soon a sob ripped from his throat. It was silent at first, the boy's descent into hysteria, and then it became louder. His sobs grew in earnest as he held himself while rocking back and forth as children often do when wanting comfort.

Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours and he was not released. He cried until he couldn't cry any more, and when his throat was hoarse he coughed. He continued to cough until phlegm and bile collected in his throat.

If there was a light he'd see the blood in the bile that was spit out onto the floor. He didn't, and that was the only mercy the darkness granted him.

**A short narration from your author:**

There will come a time when you are crying that you will cry yourself raw. Then you will cough. You are trying to clear your tears from your throat. It won't work and if you clear your throat enough you will bleed. This is what young Mail experienced.

As Mail grew older and his visits to the Dark Room grew to be more frequent the boy's reactions to the room came quicker until, before the door was even shut, he was crying and pleading for release. His cries would go unheeded and unnoticed by the mother that never loved him...

One day the door never opened. The deadbolt was never slid back and the door never creaked open to reveal the glaring light of the house's interior broken by the silhouette of his mother. Oh how he wished it had.

In the Dark Room time passed at a much slower rate than the rest of the world. It was a malfunction of the universe and a minute seemed ten times what it would be outside the room. Despite this Matt could tell he'd been in the room much longer than normal. How? Well, because he needed to use the bathroom worse than he ever had before.

His throat was once again raw, his eyes were sore, and his head was throbbing in the residual headache that always comes after a crying. Sitting up from his fetal position on the floor he used the wall to pull himself up until he was standing.

Pacing along the sides of the room that had become too small he watched the darkness fearfully as his numb fingers felt along the wall. Finally he found the door and, although he knew it was a vain attempt, he pressed his fingers into the seam between the door and the frame. He tugged as hard as he could, undeveloped muscles straining against the solid wood frame of the door.

Splinters pierced the flesh of his fingertips and soon the digits were raw and bloody like the inside of his throat and he sank to the ground in front of the door to his prison to suck the slivers of wood from his skin.

He fell asleep sucking his fingers and in his sleep his nightmares began.

…

The room was filled with snakes. They were thin and small snakes, about a foot long with black scales and yellow horizontal lines on their backs. They hissed and slithered around him, some coming too close for comfort and forcing him up and away from the door. He hopped over the hissing serpents as best he could until he was in a snakeless part of the room. His roommates however slithered toward him, hissing threateningly and bearing their fangs.

With a frightened yelp he kicked the first away before jumping out of reach as one lunged toward his bare feet. The little snakes seemed to multiply until the floor was covered in a slithery scaly mass of black and yellow.

When the first one managed to bite him Mail screamed. He kicked out again and sent the disgusting creature into the wall where it hit with a satisfying smack.

…

When Mail woke up his pants were wet, the smell of urine hung around him, and he was shivering. He stripped off his bottoms and placed them in a corner of the room before retreating to the opposite side.

Every now and then he would jump as the image of the snakes from his dream popped into his head and he decided that the best thing he could do was stand and pace. Walking the perimeter of the room with measured steps he counted steadily in his head as he waited for the door to open.

It never did.

**And now we will travel over to visit with a young detective named L and his mentor, Watari.**

…

When L stepped into the front room of the Jeevas household he could already sense that no one had been in the interior of the house for a very long time. Dust had collected on the wooden tables that stood in various places around the room, waiting for their missing owners to retrieve the pictures and trinkets left behind on them.

One picture in particular caught his eye. It was family photo placed on the table by the couch and in the picture there was a mother, a father, a young girl, and a young boy with bright red hair. Although the family photo seemed perfectly normal in a family home the way they seemed to distance themselves from each other interested him. The person that intrigued him the most however, was the little boy. Although he resembled the father in almost every feature but his eyes he was apart from all the others, like a blight in the perfect family setting that was trying to be captured.

The boy's eyes were different as well. They were sad and, if L didn't know any better, haunted. His clothes were baggy on him and his arms, although covered by long striped sleeves, were skinnier than they should be.

This picture was why L was here. He had come across the photo while skimming over the file and after reading its contents had set out for the Jeevas' last known address. The boy's mother had been arrested for the abuse and possible murder of her child and while the case has been going on for a full week the boy hadn't been found. The father and daughter had disappeared as well but L knew that was because the father wanted nothing to do with his wife and missing son.

It puzzled the young detective just how corrupt a family could be and he felt a glimmer of good fortune at knowing that Watari would always be beside him. Turning his back on the picture he made his way through the house, checking every closet and crevice until he was hard pressed to think up a place where the boy could be.

Placing his thumb upon his bottom lip in thought he paced the pantry while running his fingers along the plastic containers of peanut butter which were stack neatly. It was one of these jars that, assisted by the pressure of his fingers, rolled from the shelf and across the floor before hitting the end wall with a hollow thunk.

Removing his thumb from his lip in a show of slight shock L made his way over to the jar and tapped the wall with his knuckles. Again the sound rang hollow and he noticed the thin seam running from one shelf to the other that was about the height of an average man. Going to the kitchen to retrieve a knife he retreated back to the hidden door and used the knife to pry it open. A large panel of wood came loose, revealing a door with a dead bolt and a standard key-lock. Making use of the knife once more he picked the lock with the aid of a bobby pin he'd stuck in his pocket in case this very situation was to arise.

Hearing the lock release L let a brief smile grace his normally apathetic features as he turned the deadbolt.

Light from the pantry flooded the dark room beyond revealing the only two items in the room. First was a pair of pants and second was a little boy curled up in a ball on the floor.

Stepping into the room carefully the young insomniac approached the boy and placed to fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. It was weak yet still there and L paused for a moment before picking up the boy and cradling him to his chest. The child's gangly limbs were awkward and jabbed him as he maneuvered into the kitchen but L kept a firm grip on the boy.

Watari smiled upon their arrival and removed the child from his protégé's arms.

"It seems we have found what we were looking for Mater L, why don't we leave this gloomy house?" Wammy suggested and L nodded.

"Yes, lets. When we get to the car remind me to make a phone call to Roger informing him that Wammy's has a new child. In the meantime we must go to the hospital and have Mail taken care of as quickly as possible."

The duo made their way to the car waiting in front of the house, and ultimately, the hospital.

**What transpired during Mail's two weeks of sleep in the hospital **

Mail was renamed Matt.

Mrs. Jeevas was sent to prison

Roger was called

L ate lots of candy.

When Mail opened his eyes he flinched. White light burned his eyes and caused them to tear up after so much reliance upon the dark confines in the room. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes he rubbed them back and forth to relieve the pain as a voice spoke up.

"I retrieved you some goggles to put over your eyes until they adjust Matt-kun". A voice said and Mail felt hard plastic brush against the back of his hand. Squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible he grasped the goggles in a thin hand and slipped them over his eyes. Blinking his eyes open he squinted at the bright orange tinted world around him with a frown.

"Why did you call me Matt-kun?" he asked in a raspy voice. L offered him a cup of water and the boy gladly took it and raised it to his lips with shaking hands. The clear liquid was gulped down in record time and Mail groaned at the feeling of having something in his stomach after such a long time.

"Matt is your new name." L answered simply and Mail was too tired to challenge the fact. The detective called in a nurse to check the boy's vitals and ordered a bowl of broth as well.

"You were locked in that room for a full week." L informed the redhead and Matt shuddered. "You were severely dehydrated as well as starved. However due to your level or malnutrition I doubt you were fed much even before you were left in that room. Your mother's been charged with abuse and attempted murder of a minor and your father has vanished. That means you are a state ward now," The raven haired youth paused and held up a finger. "However I have made arrangements that you be taken under my care at an orphanage called Wammy's. The choice is up to you in the end though. What I am curious to know is why you were put in that room in the first place."

Matt looked down at the empty cup for a long moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"My mother didn't like me because I was too smart. I got put in a higher grade than my sister even though she's two years older than me and Momma didn't like that. She said that I was lying on my tests and need to be punished so she locked me in the room every day after school. She hung the key around her neck so no one could get it and would only let me out once everyone had eaten and were going to bed."

Matt paused for a moment to breathe a shuddering breath. "I only ate at school and only slept when the sun was up. My grades slipped and Momma was happy. She didn't stop my visits to the Dark Room though and one day she never came back."

All was quiet after Matt finished speaking and remained so until the boy's broth arrived. After that the only sounds in the room was the slurping noises as Matt drank the warm beef-flavored juice.

…

A week later, Matt was released from the hospital and into the custody of L and his companion Watari. When the trio reached Wammy's House the raven haired detective handed the young boy a small device. The redhead quickly recognized it as a Gameboy and when he looked up to thank L the detective laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"There is no need to thank me Matt-kun. It is simply something to comfort you if you find yourself in the dark." He said before climbing back into the car. Matt was led up the steps by Roger as the Gameboy came to life.

And that is the end. Thank you for reading, excuse any errors (I did not proofread or edit), and leave a review.