You have days when you ponder the reason why you listen to those people who call themselves parents. They never seem to stick to their promises, constantly saying that they're watching out for you when their decisions only make your life worse. You wish yours would just die.

You have days when you find your mind wandering to the previous week, reliving the bloodcurdling screams of those you loved. You see their lifeless faces on the floor of the kitchen and the billiard room. You notice the white cue ball is now dyed red, and the simple memory of it makes you hide your face so nobody on the streets sees your tears. You regret that wish now.

You have days when you attempt to figure out why you're stuck at the institution that calls itself an orphanage. It was really no better than living with parents, except maybe for the fact that these people actually allow the playing of videogames and they actually buy you some. They let you wear whatever you want too; you don't get scolded for dying your hair a bright maroon, wearing mismatched clothes, and constantly wearing goggles. Maybe it was different than living with parents.

You have days when you find yourself thinking about who that new kid is at the place you now call home. The kid was obviously older, but it was hard to tell if it was a girl or boy. The feminine body and face, as well as the neatly kept hair all pointed towards female. The facial expression expressed confusion and anger, and was twisted into something else that you can't explain. That pointed it to male.

You have days when you find yourself smiling at the brand new memory of walking into the room you shared with only yourself and found the new child sitting on the once vacant bed, staring at the ceiling while eating chocolate. You remember that the first thing you asked was if the new arrival was a boy or girl, and you remember the dark glare you received that sent shivers up your spine. You can remember the way the response was growled, which within itself implied it was a boy.

You have days when you curiously shoot glances at your new roommate, who you know is named Mihael but insists you address him as Mello. You know why this is, and don't bother questioning it; every child including yourself had aliases. It was as normal as you telling others to call you Matt instead of Mail. He asks you why you keep looking up at him from your DS and a faint blush starts on the tips of your ears. You stuttered out the most stupid question of your life that day, asking how the hell can he not be fat with the way he consumes chocolate bars. That was the first time you experienced what it meant to get hit below the belt extremely hard.

You have days when you find yourself smiling more than you should, and not because you just beat the hardest boss in the game on Legendary mode but because he's with you at your side constantly. You're smiling now because for once in your life you aren't feeling the emotion of loneliness. You find out what friendship is and what it means to be a true friend.

You have days when you want to beat your head as hard as you can against a brick wall, and you smoke more than you normally do on these days. You're wondering why the hell you're now noticing every single quirk about your best friend, wondering why your heart leaps out of your chest when you see him smile or when he teases you. You're wondering why whenever he pins you to the ground after you insult him and he whispers his final sarcastic remark in your ear you find yourself blushing like mad.

You have days when you don't get up out of bed, let alone your room. You don't sit up and you don't eat, nor do you drink anything. You don't move any part of your body and the symptoms of both nicotine and videogame withdrawal are obvious. On these days, you're wondering why the hell he left without telling you goodbye or asking you to come with him. It was only sensible that'd he do that, wasn't it? After all you two had been through?

You have days when you find yourself looking at your laptop screen in your decent apartment in Los Angeles. You have a cigarette dangling from your lips and your fingers are preoccupied with beating the final boss on your new Xbox 360 game, but somehow you're managing to keep an eye on the security cameras you set up around the building. You ask yourself why you did this, and what you were expecting to happen. You know he left when you had just turned thirteen, and you were nineteen now. You knew you weren't going to see him again, so you wanted to know why you had hope.

You have days when you think about the phone call he made to you. You think about the pained tone of his voice, and the way tears welled up in your eyes. You don't know if that was out of pity or happiness, but you dropped everything you were doing and went to where he was nonetheless.

You have days when you almost want to kick him out of your apartment, but you know you won't do that because he needs you. He isn't the same Mello as you were used to, but it would take time. The ever so vain Mihael Keehl would reappear once he got over the marks on the left side of his face. You ask yourself whether this was worthless hope like you had before, and you don't answer the question. You decide to live with what you have so far, and hope everything gets better.

You have days when you wonder whether or not what happened between you two was true or just sexual hunger. You think back to tousling his soft blonde hair, grinning at him while he grinned back. You can recall the feeling of his muscles under your light touch, and the way he shivered. Ticklish, of course. You smile a bit when you remember the night that was just a few days ago, the day you lost your virginity to the only person you ever trusted. To the only person you ever loved.

You have only a day to think about the rational possibilities of Mello's plan. You're positive he's thought these things through already, but it scares you to think about the consequences. He assures you that you won't die and neither will he, and he seals this assurance with a delicate kiss on your lips. He has no doubt, but his gentle touches don't ease away your apprehension.

You have only a minute to think about the pain that's ripping through your chest. The pain is like a thousand speeding bullets and that makes sense, since that was what was piercing your skin at the moment. The cigarette between your lips doesn't fall out of place as you're falling to the ground. It takes all the time it wants to move, and it falls from your lips as you take your final breath.

You have no time at all to think about anything else. Thoughts are nonexistent now, except for one. The last thing that went through your head that was now only an echo as you slipped into the silent darkness was something so simple, so innocent, and yet so unknown. You never told him to his face, and now you never would be able to. You spent days reflecting on the stupid things, but you never spent any amount of time voicing how you felt. You know realize you have no time at all to tell Mello you love him.

Blabhalbah I don't own Death Note. that shit is last because I wanted people to read the feeling from astart to finish without the disclaimer.

I don't know what the hell is up with my writing on this. I don't write poetic things, even dark and angsty thingies. -shrug- I was listening to Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol while writing this, so I don't know why the fuck its so dark..maybe because it's almost 1 in the morning? ANYWAY. Review and I'll love you forevah.