Author's Note: That's right, everybody, I'M BACK! First of all, I must apologize for how much time I've had to spend away. I appreciate all of your support and that you've all stuck with M! As an apology gift, you now have: a rewrite & future chapters ahead! I didn't drastically change the plot, but definitely reread. Remember, the tumblr account rewritinganime is where I post chapters as well as images (***NOTE: if you want to do some fanart, I can post it to the chapters!) As a warning, there will probably not be a set schedule for posting chapters since things are still unpredictable; therefore, just keep your eyes open for the next chapter posts.
***I DO NOT own Death Note or it's characters, only my OCs.***
Chapter 1- Going To Sleep?
I sigh as I place my pen down on the table in front of my and lean away, reaching my hands back to reclip my long reddish-brown hair back up into a firm twist. My auburn bangs hang in my face, but I've grown so accustomed to them that they simply don't hinder me anymore. I had been commissioned to design a tattoo for one of my best friends, which I didn't mind at the time. However, I flip my black iPhone towards me and click on the display. Due to then lateness of the hour and the fatigue in my eyes, the normally dim light from the device seems to be intent on sapping any essence of functionality out of my retinas. The screen reads 2 AM, I've clearly gone overboard once again. Looking back at the piece, I decide that it was worth it.
Working all day, I had managed to get it all drawn, the rest of my time spent adding line weight with ink. I crack my knuckles before carefully laying my ink-stained fingers on either side of the paper, making sure that I won't accidentally make a mark I'll regret. My art-trained vision traces the flowing scroll that lays across a beautifully (and surprisingly) symmetrical compass in the dim light of a dying lamp. I catch a few flaws in the ink-work, but know that anyone else would be blind to them. Despite this reasoning, I growl at my imperfection. I raise my arms above my head and stretch my spine. A few vertebrae pop in several places and I relax, relieved that some of the tension of the seemingly endless hours has left me, I can't wait 'til she sees it!
My sister, brother, and parents had gone to bed long ago. My ears perk up, catching the nearly imperceptible sounds of one of the afore-mentioned turning on their creaking bed above me. Not really feeling tired, yet knowing I should sleep, I turn my tired eyes to the screen of my well-loved computer. I reluctantly minimize the page on which I had been re-watching Death Note.
Like anyone who follows my tumblr knows, I am VAGUELY obsessed with the inhabitants of Wammy House. I pause in that thought, staring into space as I reconsider, but I would have to say that I'm especially fascinated with L and Near.
I rest my back against the surprisingly uncomfortable armchair, my right pointer finger forming a hook before coming to rest gently on my bottom lip. My left hand wraps around my body, a perch for my right elbow: my signature thinking pose that even I'm unaware that I do (other than people telling me), I'm not certain what draws me to those characters, but I'm sure it's a measure of camaraderie. Much like L, I sit in a strange way that draws attention from anyone around. Even now, my legs interlock over each other in what I'm sure is an acrobatic pose. I rarely eat anything due to having anorexia when I was younger. But most of all: Like the both of them, I sit alone in a corner, constantly working until I drop. I'm sure my reasons are different from theirs. Unlike them, I work until I drop from exhaustion in order to not think. Thinking leads to remembering, remembering leads to memories, memories lead to… I flinch. My mind flicks to the next subject, never stopping, Tag on a ridiculously excellent sense of hearing that makes sound-canceling headphones necessary to even be around our three dogs, a weak immune system, and an eerie knack for reading people and you have a formula for a social outcast.
A wicked shudder works its way through my entire body. This causes my knees to slam up into the table, almost as if my body is trying to rescue me from the maze of my own mind. Shocked, I realize that I've been staring at a blank expanse of wall while lost in my thoughts. Ugh, again?! I flick my phone display on: 2:15 AM. Well, I was only lost for about 13-14 minutes… I rub my eyes with the palms of my hands, not keen on a more permanent form of eye shadow, Not bad, all things considered.
Closing my laptop, I haul myself to my feet. Knowing that the table is tall enough to protect my art piece from all three of our dogs and that it's far enough out of the way so that no one would accidentally spill something on it, I leave my piece upon it. Nonetheless, my paranoid mind forces me to turn back to the table. I roll down my long, black bell-sleeves (which would have otherwise gotten in the way of my artwork) as I analyze the tabletop for anything that could go wrong. Although the scarlet-red stitching around the cuffs catches my eye, weaving it's way around in a beautiful curled pattern, I ignore it. Instead, I make sure that all pens are capped and nothing can fall on the piece. Satisfied, I nod to myself and turn away.
The midnight-black material of my long skirt seems to whisper secret words, flowing over my bare feet as I shuffle to the century-old wooden stairs. I repeatedly turn to scan the shadows, a habit I'm still trying to kick from childhood. I dutifully check that the front door is locked before stealthily slinking up the stairs, avoiding the notoriously creaky portions.
At one of the landings, I catch sight of the moon. As I stare at the round orb, I feel the writer, the artist, within me begin to awaken once again. Myths of elves, fairies, and the fair folk's attachments to the moon dance within my mind. Tales of spiriting away and fairy rings weave into a vibrant tapestry. I'm only awoken from my mental world by a bat darting in front of the beautiful sphere. Shaking my head, I check my phone only to discover that I've been staring at the moon for a good 5 minutes. Wishing almost mournfully that I could have remained lost in that fairy-tale land of my mind, I sigh and continue up the stairs.
Reaching the top, I approach the hallway. Out of instinct, I look both ways down the hall. I smile as I see what's at the far end: a plug-in nightlight that my father bought once he was aware of the difficulties I have with the darkness of the night. Upon closer inspection, one would see that the nightlight reads 'Live, Laugh, Love'. Although still uncomfortable, I turn away from the shadows that remain. I stand a little taller as a quote I love comes to me from the works of J K Rowling: "It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."
Having brushed my teeth earlier, I pass my parents' room to reach my door, directly across from my brother's. I close the door softly behind me before turning to face the small mint green room. I would have painted it scarlet, but my mother thought it was far too harsh a color. I graciously agreed to mint green, which I'm just as fond of. The size of the room makes clutter a large problem: a bookshelf with nigh room to spare sits in the corner, a tiny couch crouches beneath the two windows that face the front of the house (the blinds drawn tight). A small armoire takes up residence in a corner, barely used since I can never seem to keep anything in its proper place. 2 bedside tables flank my pok-a-dot duvet-covered bed. Despite the size and the lack of wiggle-room, I find it all cozy.
I spin to collapse upon the duvet. My black skirt flies up before floating down to rest on my legs. "Ouch!" I had forgotten about the clip I spin my hair into during long art sessions. I reach back and carefully remove the teeth of the clip before gently rubbing my head, snickering at myself for my forgetfulness.
I stare at the ceiling as I remember a time when I shared a room with my younger sister of 16. Everyone says that we look like twins (though we're 4 years apart), but I only see some of their reasoning. We both share the same olive complexion, brown eyes, brown hair (except I have a shade of red mixed in, thanks to Dad), same build, hell, even the same nose, from strong Italian heritage. I sigh in envy, Other than that, my sister is far more beautiful than I. She's funny and social, making friends wherever she goes. She's incredibly intelligent and a loyal friend… My lightly jealous thoughts come to a close as I smile, But more than any of that: she's my best friend, always has been. Despite the envy of my previous thoughts, I don't despise any of those traits that she has, In fact, I'm happy for her and push for her success! I hope that she will have more than I.
My 13 year old brother looks different than his sisters, but not ridiculously so. His brown hair curls into a large bush upon his head that I adore. He shares his brown eyes with us, but that's where the resemblance stops. His skin is a pale color that often earns him sunburns, his face covered in freckles. I see a lot of myself in his behaviors, but not to my extremes. Shy at times, he will always try new things and is kind to everyone (although also sporting a strong sense of right and wrong). His dexterity serves him well during the countless hours I spend playing video games with him. His loud recklessness makes it easy for me to win. I giggle to myself, but I worry about when he figures out the strategy of stealth, because then I'll have to start actually trying to beat him!
Sitting up, loose red-brown curls cascade to bounce gently just below my shoulder blades. I lay back down, using my hands to fan my hair out across my pillow. Combing through the strands, I stare at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above me and yawn. Not even bothering to change clothes, I pray the darkness of sleep takes me quickly.
My last thoughts turn to my favorite Death Note characters, I wonder how they live with such strange habits and lifestyles. I don't seem to be managing nearly as well as they always have. I wonder how many episodes I'll get through tomorrow… Someone must have heard my prayer because my mind clouds over and I am lost.
But I was wrong. Perhaps I shouldn't have feared the darkness, but what the darkness was harboring was about to change my life- and the lives of many others…
Forever.