Hello everyone. Welcome to my first story. This story is going to center around a girl named Gabby, and is a MelloXOC. Please note: Italics used are for first person experiences/flashbacks that Gabby, or any character, has. Otherwise, this story will be told in the third-person.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, its concepts, or its characters. Gabby is, however, an original character of mine.+
Help..
The tears kept falling down my face as I sat cradled in a ball in the far corner of my room. The walls were painted vibrant purple, now black with the absence of light, from both outside and inside my house. The rain was falling steadily in rhythym, as if it didn't notice that I was creating my own rain, except from my eyes. Maybe rain was angel tears. Maybe the angels were crying, drowning te world in their own tears, for the pain of children across the world.
Help..
My father was asleep in his room a few doors down from mine. I refused sleep though. It was only a matter of time before the ungrateful bastard woike up and made his way to my only sanctuary. Father.. How I regretted when he was awake. He was out to kill me, I could feel it in my bones.. Father beat me, day in and day out.. The only place I could count on for freedom was school and my room, but only in the deepest hours of night could it be a free place. Father owned me.. He owned the cuts, the scars, the bruises on my body..
Help me..
I hated my father.. I hated him with such a deep passion. He was the reason my mother was sleeping peacefully in the cemetary dirt. He was the reason my friends constantly questioned my appearance, my attitude, and my demeanor. He was the reason why I lost control of who I was, and screamed.
I'm drowning in pain.. Help me..
Yes, I screamed. Not where he heard me. It always had to be a place where he'd never hear me empty my lungs of much needed air, burn my throat with such a wail, and become the animal I was. I'd scream until I felt light-headed, screamed until my eyes even felt dry, screamed until I could scream no more.
Please.. Help..
I heard something bump against the floor in the room I wished would burn. Father was awake. I knew he was coming for me. On hands and knees, as quietly as I could, I scurried to my closet, located a few feet from my original place on the floor. I opened the door just enough to allow myself entry, then shut it once more. Thankfully, my closet door did not creak, or make any sort of sound. In a way, it seemed to want to protect me from harm. My breathing became ghostly, as if it wasn't present. I was waiting.. Waiting for that bastard to throw open my door and search for me. Me.. His favorite punching bag. My heart was beating frantically, I thought it was going to burst.. Or worse, give out my location. I didn't care if I died.. I didn't want to, but if it meant getting away from that horrid man, I'd accept it happily.
Just take me away..
The footsteps only got louder, with more force upon impact to the ground. Louder and louder they got, until they suddenly vanished. I knew this trick already. He would stop dead in his tracks, outside my door, and wait for a reaction. As soon as I gave one, he'd throw the door to the wall, and charge at me. And if I didn't give a reaction? He'd still charge in. What would stop him? Nothing would. Nothing until he died would ever stop him..
I want to go away..
I heard the bedroom door slam against the wall from behind my only protection, a winter coat and the closet door. His deep, menacing breathing could be heard, as clear as day. I could almost see his bloodshot green eyes, darting around, searching for their target. I heard him move quickly and loudly into my room, knocking things over without a care. He was looking for me. Dear old dad was looking for me. What a joy..
"Gabby, come on out.. Daddy just wants to talk to you," he called in a sickeningly sweet, sadistic voice. We both knew what his true intentions were. For that reason, I refused to move from my spot. If he found me, my punishment would be worse. If I didn't come out until tomorrow morning, Tuesday morning, he'd probably do much, much worse. It didn't matter to me. I was able to turn off most pain. So I waited until he found me.
I could hear the desturction of my things in the other room so clearly. I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to picture where he was, when I heard a loud bang on my door, followed bya spine-tingling laugh. He found me. I knew he would. Now he'd tear the door open, drag me out, and unleash hell upon my small frame.
The knob jiggled, but did not fully turn. My father made an amused chuckle from the other side of my barriar. "Trying to hide are we," mocked he, before a click rang through my head. Was I hearing things? The click had resembled that of a gun being cocked.. He planned on killing me! And, knowing my father, he had a gun ready to go through wood, and pierce the bone of a twelve-year-old child easily. Silently, I counted the seconds, which soon turned to prayer. I prayed that the bullet would not kill me. I prayed that my father would drop dead instead of I.
"Night night Gabby," he cooed, laughing malevolently. A loud bang followed his voice. My eyes shot wide open. I wanted to see the object that would end my suffering, end my pain, end this hell I was living in.
I never saw it. Something sounded from the other side, like metal colliding with metal, then the agonizing yell of my father soon after. A thud happened next, and then complete silence. I waited. And waited. And waited longer. But, nothing else happened. Not even the deep breathing I had grown to fear was not heard. My hand reached for the doorknob, and I attempted to open the door, with no luck. My fingers traced the cool knob, before landing on the lock, which made me realize that the door had locked from my side. I unlocked the door, then ever so slowly coaxed the door open. My father lie on the ground, still as a statue, a pool of dark liquid surrounding him. A hole protruded from his forehead. My eyes grew wider than coins. My father was dead.. Right before my eyes. I wasn't a fool of a kid. No one had to tell me he was dead.
At that moment of realiztion of my freedom from the hell-bringer, lightning crashed down from the heavens, lighting the sky before becoming dark once more. I knew what was going to happen next. The neighbors no doubt heard the gun fire. They would be here to investigate any moment. I would no doubt be going to live in an orphanage, the only thing tying me back to this place being the items I now owned for myself.
He was dead.. I was finally free from him.. And I was leaving hell forever..
.. Thank you angels for answering my prayers...
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please take note that this chapter is for a background story on Gabby, and that the next chapter will put her in the Wammy's setting. Reviews would be appreciated greatly. See you all in the next chapter!
