Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.
Information: This is just a writing exercise. It's not supposed to be shock horror. The goal is to keep each chapter a page long, but keep the suspense and story going. Onward!
Sollemnia
1. Achromic
It's autumn and there is indigo staining the sky and Light feels like screaming.
"You are the best student in the class." Nakamura-sensei says it with smiles, but his eyes want to kill Light so hard, kill him with the steel in his eyes. "You must understand that looking out the window will not do, for a student like you. You are distracting yourself."
Light can smell the sadism in the man's eyes as he pulls the shade down and the sky is ripped from his vision, and the world gets just a little darker.
Light could crack open Nakamura-sensei's head like a fresh egg and let the rich yellow yolk slobber down his face and fill the classroom as Alice filled Wonderland with tears. But he does not. There are humans looking at him. They want something from him. They all love him, but secretly, they want to see the yolk run from his egg-cracked head, too. He doesn't deserve any of this, they think angrily. That's okay, anyway, because Light doesn't want any of this either.
This is all he can do now. This is all he has. So he will stand on his feet, straight and proud, and the scream will float out of him in the form of a softly spoken "'Can it be, can it be, that I shall really take an axe, that I shall strike her on the head, split her skull open...'" He will close the book and everyone will smile their praise but it's all pretend, really.
Light comes home to a house with Mother and Sister bolted like nails to their assigned rooms (Mother in the living room, Sayu in her bedroom). Mother will ask about test results to see if her little robot boy is functioning correctly, and her magazine will call her back to a world of gloss and glamour. Interaction done. Sister will come out of her room, ask for her homework to be reviewed. Light will correct it without even looking at it. Interaction done.
Light calculates how many times in the last twelve years he has woken up, gone to school, stared out the window, and gone home. He shakes his head. What a waste of time. What a waste of life. Shameful.
The boy does not watch television, does not log online. He slides into his straight, stiff bed. It's almost like a coffin. It's almost pleasant. The ceiling is white and stretches over him. Many images swirl over it in the dark. Someone winks at him from the corner of the room. A man walks into his closet. His closet is the entrance to hell.
Light thinks about all of his friends in the forest and feels heartened. Existing is not a lost cause, after all. The world would be safe soon.
"Worthless," the man mumbles through his door. "Worthless."
The nightmares Light has are not so bad when he considers the ramifications of being awake.
lol what am I writing.