A/N: I don't have the slightest idea where do I get my inspirations from. I get them rarely nowadays and it's irritating - I was born to write stuff! Yay for writer's block and lack of inspiration... not. Anyways. I was just standing outside of my school today, smoking a cigarette, when the song in my mp3 player randomly switched into As If Forever Exists by 凛 -the end of corruption world-. Bam, I got an inspiration. My hands itched like hell before I got back home, because I needed to write this down before I'd lose the inspiration again. If you want, listen to the song while reading or don't listen to it - whatever floats your boat.
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own anything from Death Note? No, I do not own a thing from it.
Warning(s): Well, I think this falls under the category of rating M, because... Beyond sometimes has a really foul mouth. So yeah, few of the stuff he spits out in this piece might cause some disturbing images, so if you have a weak stomach, I suggest you'd push the little red x button on the tab. If not, have a blast reading.
Review(s): Sure, gimme. No, honestly, I really appreciate every comment I get on my works.
"I feel so sorry for him..."
"As do I. It's practically a miracle that he survived through the first night."
"I can't even begin to imagine what he has gone through, murderer or not..."
Yes, I really do think you can not imagine what I have just gone through. I still, however, don't get why you insist on feeling so sorry for me. For what? This little, stupid cunt should be a nurse - because of that, she should at least have the knowledge that I don't feel a fucking thing. Not a single thing. Nothing, zero, nada, zip. You could stick me full of needles and I wouldn't even budge. Not to mention her colleagues. Everytime - and I mean it when I say everytime - when they change the bandages covering my body, they are overly cautious. Why? Honestly, I don't feel a thing - heck, you could even shove a knife up my ass and I wouldn't twitch. I'm not made of porcelain either, your touch can't break me. Besides... what's there left to break in me anyways?
"Isn't there at least something we could do, doctor?"
"Nothing besides waiting. If he manages to make it through this night as well and pass our basic tests, we'll get him a skin transplant as soon as possible. For now, all we can and should do is to focus on keeping up his blood circulation and breathing. Of course, there's always the possibility he'll develop a state of shock. Keep an eye out for that as well."
"Of course."
And blah blah. There are few things that I hate and despise in this world. One of them is that people insist on talking about me as if I'm not there. Normally I would make a nasty comment at this point, but being connected to a respirator makes it an impossibility. All I can do is nod or shake my head a bit. Blinking would be an option as well, if I didn't feel like my eyelids are going to fall off everytime I do so. Verbal communication truly is a priviledge.
"I just don't get it why the police insisted on guarding this room so heavily. As if that poor man could-"
If I could, I'd throw up. Shutting that yapping cunt up is currently one of my missions. Well, at least it's a good way of passing time for me - imagining how I could stitch that piehole shut for good. Because I'm not a doctor, my handwork wouldn't be as neat. Then again, it's not supposed to be either. Cutting off her tongue wouldn't be a bad idea when I think about it more closely - let's call it... a measure of precaution, shall we? Just in case she'd be stupid enough to rip the stitches open. The thought of that partly amuses me and makes me feel sorry for her. Yes, I think it'd be hilarious to watch, but then again I'd be brought face to face with the fact that the most dangerous disease in the history of mankind is chronic stupidity. Messing around with these thoughts is entertaining to a certain point - I've just reached it. I need a new source of amusement.
"I think this'll be all for now. Check ups on this man need to be performed on every hour, understood?"
"Yes, doctor."
There'd be a huge grin plastered on my face now if it was physically possible - finally I can get some peace. I hear light footsteps and the small click the door to my private room makes everytime it closes. However... I do hear footsteps from the hallway behind the door - approaching ones to be exact. Someone's speaking to the four guards standing in front of the door. After a small pause in talking, I hear someone turning the key in the lock - which, in my opinion, is weird. Nurses and doctors don't need to discuss with the guards whether they can enter or not. Could it be that I have a visitor? Oh yes, I do - these footsteps are not familiar to my ears. I can hear bits of... confidence? Yes, confidence and... Uncertainty? In those steps. This person who just walked in sat down on the chair next to bed. Why do I know this? Because I'm not deaf - I'm not blind either, but I did mention something about the eyelids, didn't I? I can hear when someone drags a chair next to my bed. Period.
"Oh, you're sleeping - I'll try to keep it quiet then..."
This voice is a familiar one. I just can't quite put my finger on it just yet. I wish I could let out a sigh right now. Cursed respirator... Mental sigh will have to do then.
"Funny - I had it all figured out what I would tell to you when I'd get to see you in this room. Now my head's all empty. Most of my questions wouldn't get an answer though - since you're stuck with that... thing."
Respirator - thanks for reminding me.
"You look... different. Of course your current condition affects that, but... you get what I mean, right? You've grown a bit, like me."
This blows, big time. I certainly know this voice from somewhere - it has this certain type of melody in it. Why yes, I do find that every voice holds a certain melody in it - go ahead and laugh, see if I give a fuck. I've tried to avoid this, but I guess I do have to take a small peek at the person who's talking to me, even if it costs me my lids. I couldn't care now, I'm too curious. Oh great, my vision is blurry as hell. This requires more from me than I expected it to. I lift and turn my head a bit as well - no, it doesn't hurt, I'm just lazy.
"Did I wake you up?"
I shake my head a bit. How can I possibly sleep when people keep on running around me all the time? Anesthesia would be a solution to that problem, but I don't think I'm getting one that soon.
"Good. I... I guess I can't really ask how're you doing and such... right?"
If you weren't who you are, I would've made some nasty comments here as well. For you, I'll let it slide. I can't assume this is easy for you either - this isn't exactly the condition you expected to see me in when we'd meet again someday. Not to mention that you must've gotten all the required information about me and the things I've done in the past few months.
"Um... Sorry. I suck with these kind of things. I'm sure you kinda noticed that."
I have to nod - this time I hear a nervous laughter from your side. "You haven't changed at all personality wise." True.
"I only got few more minutes left - the doctor who's taking care of you-" More likely trying to piss me off beyond my believes. "-told me that because of your condition, visitors aren't allowed to stay long. I heard your state is currently stable, but they said it can change quickly for worse."
Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine. Having over 90% of my body covered in third degree burns is nothing, really. I survived through the first night, didn't I? My blood circulation failed more than twice, but here I am.
"L wasn't too happy about my decision to come here and see you, y'know... He still needs to learn that logical reasoning won't work with me when it comes to me being impulsive."
Don't let him get to you with that. Please. I don't want to see you turning into something he is. He'll try to break you in some ways so he could mold you into something he prefers - don't let him win in that. Stay the way you are. After all, you were probably the only small one in that sorry excuse for an orphanage who didn't run away from me. And now when others watch me with pity written all over their faces, yours still has the same expression like back then. Curious.
"Anyways- shit, the guards want me to leave. I'll... I'll try to come back and see you after the transplant operation, okay?"
It's a nice change of pace to hear words like those, you know? Someone, who actually believes that I can survive that long. I manage make a weak nod, which makes you smile.
"Oh. And before I forget... I... I'd like you have this for a while - I guess you could use it more than I." I hear something getting placed on the table. "I know that you're not the most religious person that has existed on the face of earth, but... Yeah. If nothing else, it's something you can remember me by."
Oh - you're talking about your rosary. True, I don't believe in any kind of god or higher force. But if I have a bad day, I'm sure it'll help me a bit at least.
"Well... I'll see you around then, I guess."
I hope so. I really do hope so.
A/N2: So, how about 'em comments, eh?