Francesca thought everything was going to be fine. She meets the famed straight A student, Light Yagami, and strangely instantly befriends him. Then she starts independently investigating the mysterious murders of Kira, and when she meets Ryuzaki, everything becomes a mess. But is that all she has to worry about? She has always had a problem getting to sleep, but these recent nightmare occurences have made her want to stay up at night. What if her trying to stay awake only feeds the fire? What if the fear strengthens the nightmares and makes them become reality?

I Just recently came up with how I'm going to be taking thise story based on a dream I had. It was a fairly detailed dream, and I instantly thought it to be an excellent idea for this story. I hope you will enjoy it!

Francesca: She does not own death note or any of it's characters or else she wouldn't be here. :)

Me: yeah... sooo let the story begin! Comments are greatly appreciated!

The busy streets were buzzing below, and Francesca Stoner couldn't hear a bit of it. After school that day, she felt unusually tired, and had passed out on her bed. It was probably from the exams. It's not that they were too hard, it's was just time consuming. Her teachers have been giving her a lot of work to do it these past two weeks, and she was exhausted. Plus, Francesca loves to sleep; she'd sometimes consider it a hobby.

It wasn't until around 6:30 her mother decided to awaken the 'sleeping beauty.' She groggily opened her eyes and glared at her mother as best as she could.

"It's time to wake up sleepy head. I want you to help me with dinner." Heather chirped.

"But I'm still tired…" Francesca protested. She wasn't really, but she also didn't feel like getting up to make dinner. She stuffed her face deep into her pillow.

"Look, I was dinner ready by the time Jamie gets off work, so please get up and help me." Francesca knew without looking up her mom was giving her the 'unintentional' puppy dog face. The mental image was enough to make her get up.

"Alright." She groaned.

"Yay!" Heather chimed. She was too much of a teenager herself. She held that childlike innocence in her personality that made her so lovable; it was hard to deny her. Francesca followed after her mother, dragging her feet and raising her arms in a stretch.

"What are we making?"

"My special meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans."

Oh, at least it was something good. Her mother's meatloaf was amazing. She'd have to ask her what she does to it to make it so delicious. Passing by the living room, the TV was on channeled into the news. It was almost never on the news, because dad didn't like to watch it. He complained that it was depressing, and wondered why people need to talk about depressing matters just to make others depressed. Right now a broadcast was on about a man who was holding a daycare center hostage.

"Ugh, that's awful. What is wrong with people? I don't understand why people resort to this. Well, I guess we are just greedy, power hungry humans after all." The news reporters were frantically squawking on and on about what everyone already knew about the situation. Francesca was going to get up and actually help her mother with dinner when the hostages came out of the building.

'What happened?' she wondered. The hostages reported the man just dropped to the floor. With further inspection, the man was reported dead, dying of a freak heart attack. Her eyes widened at their sudden luck. It was almost like a guardian angel had been watching over them and smited the evil man down. "Well that was…odd…" she whispered.

Francesca got up off the couch to help her mother with dinner, telling her about what she just witnessed on the news. "Wow that's lucky isn't it?" Heather said, not taking her eyes off of her cutting.

"Yeah…" They continued making dinner, while making mindless conversation. For some reason, Francesca's mind kept going back to that man on TV. Something about his sudden death screamed in her gut that this wasn't the last type of death the world would see. Though that was just silly; why would people just start dropping dead of heart attacks? It didn't make any sense, and that's what she tried to tell her gut. Although her gut had never been wrong before, this was just inconceivable.

"Oh Francesca, can you run to the store for me? We don't have any butter!" her mother wailed.

"Mom, please call me Phoebe," she advised, "And you really should have checked before you started making dinner."

"I know, and I know! I just don't see why you insist on being called Phoebe. Francesca is such a beautiful name, and it's your name!" Her mother protested.

"I know, I just… just please? I'll go get some butter if you do." She chided.

Her mother squinted at her, and then smiled. She grabbed her purse. "Alright, just go get me some butter." She smirked, handing her 700 yen.

Francesca beamed, smiling with a cheesy grin, before taking the money and slipping it into her pocket. "I'll be back in 20." She called as she slipped on her shoes and coat, and strode out the door.

Francesca exhaled, and then inhaled the evening air. She loved the night; it was cooler and made her feel more relaxed. She strolled down to the store, soaking in the evening sky and cold wind that caressed her skin. Walking into the store, she bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I…" her voice trailed off as she gawked up at him. He was quite handsome, with honey brown hair and matching eyes. A small heat threatened to make itself known, but she quickly made it go away.

"Oh that's alright." He spoke back in his perfect Japanese voice. It was beautiful. He laughed, smiling down at her. Though, something was wrong with him, but Francesca couldn't put her finger on it. She smiled politely while her legs dragged her into the store building. She just wanted to hurry up and buy some butter and get outta there.

At the register, Francesca noticed a small gang surrounding a girl. She looked terrified. The cashier gave Francesca her change; she thanked him, and then rushed outside towards the gang of men. They were trying to undress the poor girl right there in the parking lot.

"Hey! Get off of her!" The men looked up at her in shock, the one holding the girl loosened his grip. She calmly walked up to the repugnant creatures and growled. "Let her go please. She doesn't want you touching her" She kept her voice low and intimidating.

"Oh? And what is a pathetic woman going to do abo…" He couldn't finish his sentence, because the moment he said the word pathetic, anger boiled over into her fist, and she plummeted it into his jaw. He flew back, losing his grip on the girl, falling off his motorcycle, while the other surrounding men jumped back.

She grabbed onto the surprised, teary eyed girl's hand. "Come on, RUN!" she dragged the girl away from the store.

"Oh, little American bitch can pack a punch." He got on his motorcycle and started driving after them. Francesca turned back at the man, knowing it was a bad idea, but couldn't stop herself. She didn't even notice the truck.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She watched as the truck hit the motorcycle, and pieces of metal and warm blood flew everywhere. The woman whose hand she held onto screamed and ran off. Francesca just stared at the heaps of metal and body parts that now lay scattered all over the road and sidewalk where she stood. Again she got this pain in her gut, as if warning her of something. For some reason, this man's death felt connected, or the same as the other man's death. 'No, impossible,' she reminded herself.

The other men either drove off or ran scared. Francesca clutched the bag in her hand harder. 'Should I call the cops? Should I run?' These questions blazed through her mind as her body turned around and started walking towards home. 'I'll just go home and act like nothing happened.'

Me: OMG WHY DID THIS TAKE SO LONG TO WRITE?

L: Because you are an uncre...

Me: SHh shh shh sh. Hey, you aren't even in this story yet. What are you doing here? *looks at suspiciously*

L: Uhhmm... SHE LET ME IN! *points at Francesca*

Me: *glares at her*

Francesca: *runs away*