AN: This is a small poem/musing of the thoughts before L's death. It's a little cliché/corny, and sorry if it seems rushed, but it was done during a period of 40 minutes in an English class way back last year. I only found the draft just yesterday as I was rummaging through some of my old drawings XD

Disclaimer: Deathnote and L don't belong to me. But this small piece of (very crappy) writing does.

Enjoy~ ^^

(PS: This is a short spur to make up for my total lack of…deadness on the site. BUT DO NOT BE AFRAID. I SHALL RETURN!) :D


Living Nightmare

Such pain was miniscule to the sudden realization of my impending doom. Somehow I knew, yet I never knew of what consequences it would bring.

The fact of apparent betrayal was imminent, and as such whatever faith I once held has been smitten by the hands of the overruling and forever haunting judgement of the almighty.

I think I began to suspect some sort of tragedy was to befall when the once innocent eyes I thought I knew so well were replaced by ones so cold and terrifying.

Something stilled behind that fake smile, and I, being the beaten fool I was, thought I saw something that was genuinely honest flicker through the lies.

But as such, the liar did not lie. Yet, the truth could never set me free.

"Everyone! The shiniga-"

And then its time.

I fall towards the ground mercilessly, and time seems to slow as a searing white flame begins to blossom within my chest. Reflections of a pallid figure dart across my mind, and the sound of hurried footsteps reaches my ears.

I am suddenly caught within the arms of my would-be savour, and my heart seems to swell with instigating mercy at the stricken sight of the man's face above me. I am shivering, but somehow I swear I can make out the disbelief etched into his crimson illuminated features.

Red is all I see. For it is the colour of the blood that is slowly seeping through my veins and forever bringing death ever so softly towards me.

Clutching at the hem of his shirt with shaking hands, what, I ask myself, am I trying so hard to hold onto?

I would've laughed if I wasn't standing at the gates of Hell, if I wasn't struggling to breathe in the pathetic state I was.

I wanted to laugh. At everything. Such an exhilarating action was rare for one like I, for the abhorrent corrupting of so many ideals clouded everything else that I disregarded as eagerly important.

Ideals of justice shrouded behind the lies of my life that I had built all around me. I always agreed that with the price of the ordeal came the consequence of emotional sacrifice, so that in the end my deduction was always correct.

I had always stood behind a mask of my true self, represented and presented to the world by a single letter.

Would that make me just as dishonourable as Kira?

My heart begins to beat faster, trying to pump the remaining life through my body as the cardiac arrest starts to take effect. It wasn't natural for it all to happen so quickly, for my demise to come so fast, but it was only to be expected.

Faded images, memories I left behind to be scattered and broken within the tendrils of my foggy mind finally come to surface, and all that numbing I had endured withers away to be replaced by the blinding agony of sudden realization.

The urge to laugh is no longer included, for it is soon replaced by the need for tears, but as I recall the pain, no tears had fallen, and none would ever will.

The seminar of fleeting scenes that flash before my eyes, the memory of a stained glass window replaced by the sound of a child crying…These were all meaningless unless I could provoke a tangible excuse from their appearances.

Yet one particular image shone the most, and this precious memory, one of the only meaningful ones I could recall, seemed to shine in the eyes of the murderer above me.

One moment, I was lying on the cold floor of the Taskforce headquarters, being cradled mercilessly in the arms of my killer, and yet the next I could feel the cold embrace of winter wrap around me.

It was snowing, and the perception of a thousand icy crystals fell softly in silence. But the silence eroded away as the loud and distinct echo of church bells reaches my ears, as if signalling that a new era was to begin.

The rise and fall of a new kind of justice.

I remember…Watari…

My hand was grasping his tightly in a desperate attempt to understand why we were standing in front of this supposedly sanctioned place. The orphanage established for those who would follow in my footsteps, for when it was my time to fall another would rise in my place.

The innocent smiles of the two youthful children that were in their own paradoxical suspension to spread their own wings and follow in my wake, to follow in my shadow and yet possibly outshine all that I had ever accomplished.

I could feel my breath coming out in icy rasps as I turned my head away, tearing my tear-stricken gaze away from this scene through the eyes of my eight-year old self.

Silence once more, but the pain never faltered.

Focusing into view, he came once more, but the guilt and shock that I had displaced was soon smothered as his lips tilted upwards into a demonic grin, the truth behind the lies that was Kira finally illustrating into reality.

I wasn't wrong…But I…

And as the tourniquet of death finally washed over me, my eyes closing sullenly against the hollow echo within my heart, I was met with darkness once more.

Eternal sleep didn't sound so bad…However the knowledge of the real life nightmare I had been facing was soon to be forgotten, and in the fogginess of my mind as I lingered on the boarders of whatever awaited me in the shadows, I could hear a faint voice calling…

"Hey…Ryuzaki! C'mon…S…Snap out of it!"

And the scream to follow, whether it was my own, was a signal for me to take a step forward into the darkness.

For it was here, within the cradle of death, that I could escape my living nightmare.


R&R? I know…It sucks ; But oh well XD NO FLAMES, OR I BURN YOU.