EVERYONE EXCEPT AYA IS OWNED BY TSUGUMI OHBA AND TAKESHI OBATA
WARNING: I have only read up to Volume 5 so not everything is correct. If you don't like it, DON'T READ IT. I don't care much about nasty comments. Critisism I can allow. :)
THE HOME HUNT
CHAPTER 1:NUMB
Am I crying? I thought to myself. I knew I had a right to, after killing my parents out of my childish anger. I might have been crying, but I don't know. My face is numb from cold
It is January 2, I think. I don't know. My mind is muddled. I knew, hazily, that I was on the front step of my house. I wanted to go inside. To be safe and warm. I wanted time to go backwards. I wanted the butcher knife I was holding to have never been there. And most of all, I want my parents back.
But I cannot move. My body cannot. My mind will not allow me to. So I sat there, numb from pain and sorrow.
I was warm. I smiled. I liked this dream. In this dream mommy and daddy where there. It was New Year's Eve. Mom and dad where sitting by the fire, their eyes glued to the TV. And their eyes were always going to be like that, for they had two big holes in their bodies. They were dead.
And then dad turned his head. On his freckled face there was this big, creepy smile on his face, one you expect to be on those weird mannequins. And then he spoke.
"You didn't actually think we loved you, did you?"
I woke up screaming as if Bloody Mary was on my doorstep.
I was wrapped in a thick blue blanket and, as I learned later, had been found at the crime scene of the murder, with a butcher knife in hand.
"She's awake! Take her to the testing room."
"Testing room? For what? I didn't do anything."
The police paid no heed and grabbed my hands-rather roughly-and half-led half-pushed me towards a door.
When I walked in, I was greeted by the candy-loving guy that we all know and love-L. (this is before the Kira case!)
"Hello. And you are?"
"Aya. Aya Mikisowa."
"Do you have any connection with the newest case, the murder of Mr. And Mrs. Mikisowa, former head(s) of the NPA?"
"…No."
So now, I'm stuck at this big orphanage called the Wammy House. The people here are okay, I guess. I met new people, and their nice. They don't act like I'm weird or cool but somewhere in between. They certainly didn't guess I was a killer. Well, at least I hoped. And my mom wasn't here to force me to wear stupid skirts, so I was free to walk around wearing cargo pants and a big t-shirt that looked as if it was a little too big for me, and my black skateboarder shoes. They didn't make fun of my tussled black hair, cut boyishly short, of my green eyes that looked as if they belonged in a neon store. Here, I could just be me.
"Hey, Matt. Didja see that guy? He looks like a dropout. Watari said that he was involved in a murder. A murder. Can you believe it?" A blonde-haired, chocolate-loving boy named Mello. (they don't know that she's a girl.)
"I dare you to sneak into his room." A red-haired boy wearing goggles said. He was clutching a DS in his hands.
"Deal."
"You're on. Betcha 20 bucks that your gonna get caught."
"From now on, you are-" Roger began.
"Numb." I answered.
"..Excuse me?"
"My name. Numb."
"How did you know what I was going to say?"
"I can tell."
"O...K... But I was thinking... Ya'know, Juju."
"What the fuck?"
"... Pretend I said nothing."
The Undreaming: Well, that's chapter 1. I really don't know how they choose their names. If there is something wrong that needs fixing, please tell me.
Juju... XD. It was random... I was just thinking about a name when I thought of Tak. No, I don't watch the show and I don't want to.