Whoo! I'm back again with another new story! This one goes on kinda the dark side! The way its written is inspired by Stephen King's Carrie. It's a really good book/movie! I've read the book (I'm reading it for a second time now!) but only saw part of the movie. Anyway it's about Matt and Beyond Birthday!! If you couldn't tell by the title!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Matt or Beyond Birthday! Unhappy face.

A black and white striped blob walked the streets all alone. He just turned eighteen and he was able to leave that god forsaken orphanage he lived in for almost all his life. But, alas, he had no where to go. His best friend left him to rot in loneliness three fricken' years ago. On that day, he no longer thought of him as a brother but more like his father who left him to die. He couldn't go to the man his ex-best friend thought was oh-so cool. He was dead. That man was the exact reason as to why he left so early. And that god damn Near. Those two were the main and only reasons why this boy was left to fall into darkness.

'No where to go… I'm not going to Near. And I'm defiantly not going to try to track down that son of bitch, Mello.' The boy thought. His boots slunk against the dirty pavement of Tokyo. Why he was in Tokyo, not even he knew why. He was starving and dying of thirst. He slumped into an alleyway and fell against the wall. He couldn't take the stomach pains of hunger. He slid down the wall on his back. He fell to the ground and lied on his side. Was he seriously going to die of hunger? Was he going to die like a dog beaten and neglected?

Dog…

Neglected….

(Mello that fucking bastard Mello best friend my ass)

His thoughts instantly flew to the leather clad blond that was his best friend. Ex-best friend, excuse me. He was constantly treated like a fucking dog by that bastard. He never thought anything of it. He decided it was normal to be for friends to treat each other like that. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet shuffling. The boy looked up to see the source of the noise.

Above him stood a man looking down at him, a creepy smile growing on his face. He had red stains all over his perfectly pure white long-sleeved shirt. The red head on the ground couldn't tell if they were gashes of blood or strawberries. He prayed to a non-excitant god that they were strawberries. He reached down at the boy

(is he going to kill me oh please god no please god)

and petted his amber red hair. The boy was in shock. Why was a total fucking stranger, that could be a fucking murderer for Christ's sake, petting him like a dog?

"Hmm… You seem like a good boy." The man cackled. He sat down on his haunches with his knees pressed against his chest. "Do you need a place to live? You seem lost."

The boy stared in horror and wonder at this man. Was he going to let him live with him? He didn't know what to say. Should he take it up? But what if he was a crazy murderer? The head red was terrified and inched closer to the wall, his hands close to his chest. The man laughed. "It's okay. I won't hurt you." He reached a hand out again.

The boy flinched back, whimpering like a kicked puppy. He snuggled his head into the collar of his vest. Only his mouth and nose could fit so his orange tinted goggle covered eyes were showing. The man smiled gently. He rested his hand on the boy's striped sleeve. "I'm not insane. I can promise you that. Please come live with me. I'm awful lonely."

"He lives alone? Well…" The red head thought. "O…Okay." He said quietly. The man smiled bigly. He helped the boy up. They stood looking at each other. The 'gashed' man's nose would meet the boy's forehead if they stood closer. But that was only because he was slouching. If he fully stood up, the boy's nose would meet his neck.

"Come along." The man said walking deeper down the ally. The boy followed, like a dog. The man pulled back a blanket to show a hole in a stone wall. He held it back for the red head to go in first. The boy did so, the man followed soon after.

The room was quite the shit hole, to be blunt. It had a crummy brownish/grayish couch slammed against the wall. A small pale white shag rug covered with, again, either strawberry or blood gashes

(can't forget the gashes oh no far too important)

sat in the center of the cement floor. A small wall hid a stove, probably broken by the looks of it. A mini fridge rested on the half counter. A plastic table was connected to the wall, two also plastic chairs on either side. Outside the 'kitchen', the same as the 'living room' was a bed. Why a bed there the boy didn't want to ask.

"What's your name, kid?" The man looked at him. The boy jumped, startled. "H-Huh?" He said in response. "I asked for your name." The man said, patiently. "Oh…Um…Matt."

"Matt, eh?" The man bowed to him. "My name is Rue Ryuzaki."