A/N: This is my very first story, and it's a Light/OC...Please enjoy. R/R. I don't own Death Note
Prologue
Shakespeare must've had some deeper meaning when he wrote Romeo and Juliet. I mean, what author kills off their two main characters just for entertainment purposes? I just know there was something more to it – like, maybe he was telling us to watch who you fall for? Or, who knows, love conquers all? I'm not sure what exactly he was trying to say, but I know that he had some kind of message. Maybe some people know what it is, or maybe some people are going to find out sometime during their life. I don't know, but it bothers me. I mean, what was the point behind Romeo and Juliet? Two people from rival families fall in love, and then they die? Who would just write that? There had to have been a message behind it, otherwise it wouldn't have sparked so many spinoffs and other versions of it.
This? This isn't a spinoff; this isn't another version of it. This isn't even a story based off of it.
This is what happens when two opposites collide. They don't attract. I don't even think I fell in love with him. At the end of the day, I couldn't stand him. When we were together, it was like a typhoon. Everything in our path was destroyed. We were a destructive force that should've never even have been created. We should've never met. I hated him with my entire being, and I knew it more than anyone else did.
But in the end, I don't think that ever really mattered.
In the end, all I knew was that I couldn't be without him. I would die without him. I knew it.
Sure I wasn't perfect. I was probably the clumsiest, stupidest girl in the world. And him? He was…God. He was perfect in every way…on the surface. Nobody seemed to see all the flaws I saw. Nobody bothered to put together the pieces of him that turned into my favorite puzzle. He had a superiority complex. He was quiet, hidden behind his walls. The only thing he seemed to show people was his longing for a utopia—his longing for a perfect world.
I know I said that I wasn't in love with him – and I wasn't. He didn't love me, so what was the point in taking the chance of falling for him? I didn't really think he loved anyone, though—he just had favorites. And there was always a part of me that knew I was second—or third, or fourth…even fifth. I knew I wasn't his favorite. I knew I never would be. But even so, there was a part of me that wanted to be first. It was somewhere deep in the subconscious of my mind…I wanted to be first. And somehow, at the end of the day, I knew I'd do whatever it took to be first. Even if it killed me.
Well, that's the prologue.