Forgiven Dreamer: I can't improve without criticism.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, its characters, places, ect. But I do own Athala.
Awakening
Light looked down at the girl on the floor before him.
"Misa," he said, voice calm and flat, seemingly oblivious to the blood pulsing from the open gash on her arm.
She gasped and looked up at him. An eternity with the man. An eternity with the man who broke her heart. "Y-yes, Light?" she asked, tentatively, knowing that she could no longer say anything right. Now, she stuck to simple phrases, trying to talk as little as possible. Trying to avoid as much punishment as possible.
"Does it hurt?" he asked her as his fist connected with her nose, breaking it easily. "You want somebody to help you, don't you, Misa?" he mocked as she let out a groan of pain, trying not to scream as he kicked her over and over again. Finally, it appeared that he was done tormenting her. She closed her eyes as he yanked down his pants and relieved himself onto her. She couldn't even breathe through her nose, but she could tell that the smell was horrible.
As he left, Misa closed her eyes. She knew nobody would help her. She gave up such hope long ago. Nobody had come yet, so why would they?
"Athala, clean up this mess," Light said as he left the house. "I don't want to look at it when I get home from work."
A small woman who couldn't have been more than a year younger than Misa rushed into the room. "Oh, sweetie!" she gasped and knelt down beside her. "He really did a number this time. Okay. Get those clothes off; I'll wash them for you. You can wear a pair of my clothes for the time being."
Misa nodded as Athala helped her out of her clothes. "Sorry," she said lamely.
"You've done nothing wrong, Misa. It was that damn Light," Athala scolded kindly.
"You'll make a great mother one day," Misa whispered. "I waned to be a mother once, with a family and a little house on the ocean and two children and a dog. But that was a while ago."
"Misa...I do love you," Athala bandaged her open wounds.
"If you loved me, you wouldn't let Light hurt me," Misa sounded almost angry. Almost. "If you loved me, you would go to the police."
"No, Misa," she rubbed her shoulder. "If I were stronger, I wouldn't let him hurt you. If I were braver, I would go to the police with this."
Misa closed her eyes and washed out her hair in the sink, knowing that Athala was right. But even if Athala couldn't do it, maybe Misa could.