I do not own Death Note, the characters, anime, etc.

(Told in Mello's point of view)

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Preface

It all happened a year ago.

I know that, but still I can't help but to wake up drenched in sweat and tears everytime I have the nightmare. I have the nightmare almost everynight…

I remember it all perfectly, every detail of that dreadful night etched in my mind so vividly that I cannot stop myself from thinking it's actually happening over and over again, somewhere in my subconscious.

I remember running, no sprinting away from the flames that ate my once white home. My father's words had echoed in my mind as I ran, "Always keep this with you, it will keep you safe." So as I darted into the snowstorm and away from my home and family, I clutched the rosary he'd given me, praying to God as I ran that everything would be okay.

Of course everything wasn't okay. The wind whipped at my face and the snow got into my eyes, blocking my vision. But still I ran. Into the darkened trees of the forest and away from the life I'd once known and loved, never to return again.

I'd meant to go back after the storm and after I'd gotten help, but it suddenly hit me as I crossed an iced-over stream that there was no point in going back. A tear fell down my cheek then, and I knew I was right; there was no point, no reason whatsoever to go back there. Everything was dead and gone; my house, all my belongings, and my parents were all dead. Going back just to check wouldn't change that. In fact it would just make it worse.

So instead I kept running, crying and praying as I went, but knowing the whole way that nothing would change and that my life as I knew it was totally and completely over. It would never, ever return to the way it was and I would never be okay.

Chapter 1

I awoke again from my nightmare, finding Matt above me just like every other night. I held the red beads of my rosary and wiped my tears away with the other. I must have looked worse than most nights because Matt asked, "Are you okay, Mello? It's okay, I promise. It was just a dream."

I just nodded my head. We both knew it wasn't 'just a dream', but it's easier to pretend it was.

"You look awful. You sure you're okay?" Matt would usually just sit on the edge of my bed until I'd wake up and then when he saw I was okay, he'd go back to his bed and go to sleep. How bad did I look tonight?

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a dream," I told him with a half-hearted chuckle. He gave me one more worried look, but seemed to believe me and went back to his bed. I rolled over so I wasn't facing him, not wanting to concern my friend, as I clutched the cross of the rosary closer and recalled my nightmare.

It had been slightly different this time, something that had never happened before. My house and parents were still destroyed in a massive fire that swallowed them whole, but this time as I ran I looked back and saw something there. No, not something. Someone. But that was impossible. There was no one else there besides my mom, dad, and me the night my parents died. Unless…

No, the fire was a terrible accident. It was probably just a cooking accident Mom had or something. "Just because I don't know exactly what happened, doesn't mean…" I thought to myself. I sighed loudly in anger, forgetting for a second about my concerned friend on the other side of the room. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping I hadn't disturbed Matt's sleep, but sure enough he was still sleeping soundly. It took a lot to wake him up, which just reminded me of how loud I must be in my sleep to be able to wake him up like that every night.

I sighed again, but this time not out of anger. This was all ridiculous, just some trick my mind decided to play on me tonight. But that feeling of being watched, of being followed…

"No," I whispered aloud into the darkness, "My parents were NOT murdered."

And with that I closed my eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep, with no nightmares but no dreams either.

Two things woke me the next morning. The first was the sun peering in through the windows, its bright light blinding me regardless of my eyelids in the way. The other was the obnoxious background music of Matt's gameboy. Matt was my best friend and he had a little obsession with video games, but that was nothing anyone blamed him for. He was a great guy and could get along with anyone. He was good at making people laugh and be happy, and he was always sacrificing things of his own for the happiness of others.

Once we were walking home from the mall around Christmas time with Linda and it was very cold out. Linda, a not very bright girl, didn't plan on the weather and had worn a skirt and T-shirt to the mall even though she knew we'd be walking the mile back to our dorms after. She probably would've gotten frostbite if Matt hadn't taken off his vest to let her wear it, leaving himself in just a long-sleeved red and black striped shirt. She had asked if he was sure, and he'd just shrugged and lit up a cigarette.

That was something else about Matt. He smoked, but he claimed he wasn't actually addicted. I don't even know for sure if he is or not, and anyway, I don't care. It's not like he's one of those mean smokers that get annoyed easily when he doesn't have a smoke. Matt's never mean or nasty to anyone. He's the nicest, most caring, and most selfless person I have ever met. With me being virtually the exact opposite, we bonded instantly.

I remember the day perfectly. It was both of our first days at Wammy's, and we were both kind of shy and didn't really want to make any friends, though all the other children surrounded us with questions and friend requests. Lunch is when we met, actually. We just literally walked right into each other, for neither of us was paying attention to where we were going. Neither of us even bothered to so much as mumble an apology and we just kept walking. It was about two minutes later, after we each had our lunches, that we met again. We'd both put our stuff down at the same table and neither of us wanted to move. After a bit of small talk during that first lunch, and regardless of a year age difference, we've been best friends ever since.

"Mmm…" I sighed at the happy memory. This noise yanked Matt out of his video game, and he looked at me like I had two heads. Sometimes he forgets there's another world besides the game when he gets really into it. I laughed at him a little, sitting up on the bed.

"What's wrong, Matty? Forget I was here?"

He just rolled his eyes, averting them back to his hand held device and said, "You'd better get dressed. Roger wants us all downstairs in fifteen minutes to greet some new kid, remember?"

I hadn't remembered. On the contrary, I'd completely forgotten about the new arrival to the orphanage today. I groaned uhappily, not wanting to get up and out of the dorm just yet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Matt give me a skeptical glance from behind his orange tinted goggles, obviously a sign that he thought we should actually go.

"Fine, I'll go," I responded in childish annoyance. At that I stood up and walked to the bottom of my bed, where my dresser was. I opened the middle drawer sleepily and reached in blindly, grabbing out my favorite pair of black leather pants. I shrugged and tossed them onto the bed. I then picked my also black leather vest off the back of my desk chair and changed into my clothes.

Matt paused and saved his game, turning it off and slipping on his simple black boots while eyeing me disapprovingly.

"What?" I asked my redheaded friend.

"Nothing," he responded with mock innocence, throwing his hands up into the air as if to further prove this. I glared slightly, then shrugged while zipping up my vest. "Well, I'll meet you downstairs, Mello." I just nodded in reply.

Once Matt was out of the room with the door shut behind him, I plopped back onto my bed, sighing nervously. "A new kid, eh?" I thought to myself. There hadn't been any new kids at Wammy's since Matt and I arrived here over a year ago, so this was a pretty big deal. I didn't really know how to feel about there being someone else new, though. How should I act around him? Should I try to be his friend, or should I just avoid him? What if he's still sad about his parents' deaths? Do we try to comfort him? But what if he doesn't want to be comforted? I didn't have answers to any of these questions. I didn't even think I'd be able to help him much anyway. There was still a lot that I didn't know about the orphanage. But here's what I do know:

Wammy's is an orphanage, but it doesn't just take in anybody. You have to be smart to come here, because secretly it's actually a method of picking through kids who are smart or have special talents in an attempt to find a successor for L. This rule doesn't necessarily always apply, however. Some of the other kids here are pretty stupid; at least I think so. Then again, I might just think that way because as of now I am the smartest kid at Wammy's.

So basically, you get into Wammy's if your parents died and you usually have to be pretty smart. It also seems that most kids' parents died pretty horrifically or suddenly or graphically. Very few kids will tell you that their parents just died from cancer or something. The cause of death for most parents is some form of murder, but the topic doesn't come up much as it's thought of as rude to ask someone how their parents died.

I shook my head out of these upsetting thoughts and put on my combat boots, grabbing a bar of chocolate as I walked out the door. I leisurely walked down the hall and proceeded down the stairs to the main entrance of the dorm building. (There are two buildings at Wammy's; the dorm building and the school building.) I took my usual place next to Matt and absentmindedly watched my younger friend play his gameboy again, while I nibbled on my chocolate bar.

It was only about a minute later that Roger, the head person at the orphanage, emerged from the door leading to outside, followed closely by another boy. "This is our new member. His name is Near."

Muttering quickly picked up amongst the children as soon as Roger had introduced us to the new kid. Even Matt had turned off his gameboy, and I just stared at the strange boy in slight shock. Who was this boy? Was he really smart enough to get in here? He looked so strange.

Near was a very young and very short boy, who stood in the entryway of his new home clutching a faded blue stuffed bunny in one hand while twirling a lock of his silvery white hair in the other. Some of the other students had already started to introduce themselves to the pale boy, but he just nodded shyly at each new potential friend. I, meanwhile, just looked on in wonder, for I'd never seen anyone like him before. How could he be so incredibly pale? He looked so small and fragile in his all-white clothes which rested upon his all-white body. He looked up and glanced around nervously with dark gray eyes.

The little boy then tugged on Roger's sleeve and whispered something in his ear. It must have had something to do with wanting to get to his room, because Roger then picked up Near's two bags and led the boy up the stairs and out of sight.

Linda walked over to Matt and I saying, "Wow, have you ever seen anyone like him before? He was so small and so cute."

"Yeah, I wonder what happened to his parents," Matt said in a reply.

I took another bite of my chocolate, "Why do you think he was so pale?" But Linda and Matt just shrugged in unison.

Then, as if to answer my question, Roger reentered the little entry hall and called for everyone to be quiet. All the children just looked up at him in wonder and bafflement, not knowing what to make of this new kid.

"I want everyone to be nice to Near and treat him well. He has been through a lot," began the old man, "I don't want any of you to pester him about anything or make him feel uncomfortable here. He is a good kid and I want him to feel welcome and loved here. Now, does anyone have any questions?"

Hands flew up at once, each containing a plea to be chosen so that some of the questions in their minds may be answered. Roger called upon one of the younger children, a 7-year-old named Timmy.

"How old is he?" Timmy asked, most likely hoping to find someone else close to his age to play with, since most kids at Wammy's are at least twelve years old.

"He is ten," Roger answered. He then called on Linda, who asked, "Why is he so pale?" This was one of the questions that most of the children had wanted to ask; so many confused little faces looked up at Roger, eager for his reply.

"He has a condition called albinism. In other words, he is albino," Roger said, causing some of the older kids to nod in satisfaction, for they must have known what 'albino' meant, but most children did not.

"What does albino mean?" asked Linda again.

Roger sighed tiredly, "It happens when you don't have enough melanin in your body. It makes you very pale and your skin very sensitive. Because of this, I doubt Near will go outside that much. The sun would give him very bad sunburns that could cause him a lot of pain, so it's best if he just avoids direct sunlight. Please keep this in mind when playing with Near and don't use this as something against him. It's not his fault he was born like that, so don't make fun of him for it." Roger ended his little speech and all the children's questions were answered.

The old orphanage manager told everyone to return to whatever they were doing before, except for Matt and me. At first I thought we were in trouble, but Roger was smiling down at us. No, not at us. He was smiling at just Matt. I glanced at my friend confusedly, but he just shrugged.

"As Matt already knows, Near will be living with you two in your dorm, Mello. Is that okay with you?"

I looked at him in shock, only getting pulled out of it by Matt who elbowed me in the ribs lightly. "Sure, I guess."

Roger smiled again, "Thanks you guys. We don't have any open dorms right now, and I was so happy when Matt volunteered to share your room with Near. If he hadn't, I don't know where we'd have put him." Roger chuckled lightly and walked away.

That was when I rounded on Matt.

"Why'd you tell Roger that the new kid could live with us?!"

Matt shrugged indifferently, "He needs a place to live, Mello."

I simply gaped at my friend, unable to comprehend what he was saying. "Someone else would have offered, Matt," I told him, but he just shrugged again, pulling his goggles back in front of his eyes. I half-stared, half-glared at my best friend before saying in a rather annoyed tone, "Ugh. Whatever."

I stomped back up to our room, but nothing can break Matt's mood, so he just walked along beside me, happy as ever. When we reached our room, I paused outside for a moment, not necessarily wanting to go in and confront my new roommate. Matt glanced at me, rolled his eyes, and shoved past me through the door and into our room. I took a quick deep breath and followed.

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This is the first part of my story. I have more written, but I won't bother to upload it if no one likes it. So please review and tell me what you think so far.

-Bloodmuffins