Death Note isn't mine, blah blah blahhh.
However; Kabri, "Toad", Sonny, Remy, Terce, and Cookie, I do own.
[And my other characters I forgot to mention -if any- or ones of not yet because it would ruin stuff :0 ]
-Prologue-
Run. I can't move my legs. I know I should run. Why is my body frozen i n place? You're almost out. Get yourself away from here. Danger. My senses are crying, begging me to eject myself from this hellish place. Dark, moist air…the pungent scent of mold and mildew fill the damp putrid air that surrounds her. The heavy blunt object mercilessly swung at her fragile frame. Its cold bloody metal; reflected her lack of will to defend herself. Repetitious blows to the legs. Continuously being bludgered nearly to death. I've been pulled back in. another blow to the knee. Shattered bones poke through the abrasions on my skin's surface. Another blow, but to my back this time. That was my spine. I heard it. Why can't I feel my sides? Another blow, a loud crack that I can hear aloud. With an enthusiastic grunt, and a powerful heave, a large dent imprinted the back of her skull. Why are you doing this? She awoke herself in another cold sweat. Plagued with the memories of her violent life that took place before her final escape.
-Chapter One-
It had been just barely over a week that she had arrived here, to this private institution. She hadn't spoken to another person in this place other than the director and his personal advisor of the facility. She lie in her bed, mind restless and weary refusing to allow her back into her slumber-like state. The persisting and circling thoughts were unavoidable. The two main things that troubled her at the moment happened to be that of either her ever haunting memories, or this unbearably wretched heat and humidity that thickly clouded the night air.
Readjusting her position every eighteen seconds or so, she couldn't seem to find any refuge that allowed her comfort in the least bit from this painfully silent and still nighttime atmosphere. The exhaling of air form her lungs cast a heavily, and heated breath to sweep across her chest. A low inaudible growl emerged from her throat. Standing up atop the mattress, she reached upward for the pull string from the ceiling fan above, and with a characteristically 'click' the blades of the dusty old fan slowly spun around the musty, previously motionless air.
Turning on the almost useless fan, was not nearly enough for her to even be able to breathe properly. Extending her arm over to the nightstand where she kept numerous miscellaneous items, she tugged at the handle of the drawer and rummaged around for the two things she needed most right that moment. She retrieved the items she had so desperately needed. The first, being an actual necessity to her physical health. And the other, a piece of irony that held her sanity. She shook the first item, removing a small cap from the end and put it to her lips.
She held down the top and inhaled the aerosol product containing the medications which allowed the air to pass to her lungs. The second, she relished this oral fixation like none other. Allowing the paper rolled nicotine stick to hang loosely from her full crescent shaped lips, she fumbled at the surface for the nightstand for her ever beloved lighter. Even in the dark she could see the engraved cursive mark that read "Shaari Avadon" across the dulled metal. Flicking the wheel at the top twice before she ignited the flame, she held it up to the cancer stick sheltering it from the now swift spinning air that was in action from the fan blades above her. The end of it lighting up with a bright orange that seemed like that of neon lights to a city's night life at the inner portions of the very lively town.
She inhaled her first drag of the cigarette. The bittersweet taste instantly chilled her nerves. Holding it for a some amount of time that seemed like she was underwater holding her breath, she tilted her head upward. Releasing the sheer gray that was the deathly lung filler she loved so much. Sliding her former glasses case closer, she flicked the ashes into it, in spite of herself. What was an asthmatic doing smoking cigarettes anyway? Maybe it was something to do with needing distractions.
Sitting still for several moments of the only sound being the dreary noise of the fan swooping its blades through the air, she'd forgotten her cigarette had been lit. A few of the ashes falling unto the bare skin of her leg. This subtly reminded her of her one love, as she put the regrettably neglected cigarette back to her perfect and full cherry milk colored lips. She sighed out another stream of smoke, watching it appear black in front of the brilliant luminous moonlight that reflected her soft porcelain skin in a bluish hue.
She sat up further, did she hear something? It was that hour of when the morning meets night and the sky hasn't yet allowed the sanctuary of sunlight just yet. The hour of the night where your senses play tricks on you. The deceiving hour. She was as tired and sleepy as a person with mono. The first day of her classes were tomorrow. They began at 7:00 sharp. Did she dare turn her head to the unforgiving clock that seemed endless when waiting, but unreasonably hasty when dreading certain hours. The glowing digital numbers of green read 4:23 am. And just where the fuck did the hours from 2-3 am go? She was well aware she would not get sleep before the day of school began. She sometimes wished that she'd been placed in a different foster home.
6:13 am the mockingly quick clockwork was becoming increasingly irritating. I suppose I'll get moving now...she thought monotonously sliding herself out form the miserably sticky from sweat sheets. And although she had ended the life of the cigarette just under an hour ago, she kept its unlively remains between her plump lips. She ended up sliding herself into a lazed sitting position on the floor, with her tight and knotted back against the wooden frame. She arched her spine in a very cat-like manner. Causing each vertebra from the top of her cervical spine, to her tailbone. Already, she knew the day ahead would be beyond unbearable because upon peeling her back off of the warm [now damped due to sweat] surface of the white linen that smelt of dryer sheets and nicotine it struck her. New people. She'd never been one for making friends. The only fiend she's ever had in her whole lifetime had "purposefully disappeared" from middle earth eight years ago.
-Time skip to fourth period-
Lost eyes peered down at the piece of paper that held the series of classes she'd been meant to attend that had been deemed 'suitable' for her skills and talents. The previous class she had attended was Advanced Calculus. She held no particular desire to continue her school day. Her social anxiety had sky rocketed during the period crossovers in the halls. She held back the impulsive instinct she had to just turn a around right then and retreat to her desolate, quiet dorm room. She resisted against her persisting eager legs and trudged onto her next period of unvoulunteered time wasting. That's how it felt to her to say the least. She was close to her destination when a cluster of people that resembled that of an amoeba, were lagging in pace at an estimated ten feet in front of the classroom. Alright, not at all a problem, I'll just stand here all day waiting for you knuckle-dragging mongoloids to move… she thought, becoming increasingly irritable with every second of their pointless painstakingly long amount of time being in the way.
It was terribly aggravating to be so close to said destination, and be blockaded by a mass of seemingly mentally impaired [rather than gifted] people that would indefinitely make you late. It was almost unbelievable how people could stand to linger in the halls longer than the eighty seconds it requires to transport ones self to the next place marked on the schedule. Enough of this…She mentally yelled rolling her eyes, then proceeding to push herself through the idiot traffic block in front of her.
There was one body that was particularly in her path. He wouldn't budge from the path she so desperately needed to cross due to the high levels and degree of her social anxiety. She finally shoved her way past the stubbornly placed boy. She felt as though she had to pull him out like a strong routed weed.
Ignoring the comments and all of the 'What the fucks[s]?' from the surrounding crowd that so happened to help block the way. She was the first to arrive in the classroom, and much to her dismay, the professor's desk was located in the back area of the room. Which is a disablement for any kind of sleeping, lacking efforts in work time, and any other sort of distractions during class. Due to the circumstances, she took a cleverly minded effort to choose the blind spot of the room. Tossing her messenger bag onto the black counter surface of the lab table and grunt-sighed, she felt so estranged to her own noise. Like she wasn't used to her own voice. She sat in the rickety, squeaking lab stool and drummed impatient fingers along folded arms. Hoping like hell no one would sit next to her. Few other kids had entered the class before the class bell had rung. There was still no sign of the professor. A wave of distaste ran through her body as the annoying boy from the hallway 'incident' had entered the premises. He strolled in lazily, pants hanging off his waist, and a sloppy mess of books and papers bounced off his leg where he held them with his hand; as he walked. He was tall and lanky, resembling that of a flagpole. If he even sits anywhere near me… she thought angrily, not even able to think of a threat at the moment.
And of course, he slammed the blob of disheveled papers on the lab table directly behind her, his brown curly hair flipping as he tossed his head to the side, recognizing the girl from the back of her head. Another followed in after him. Taking the seat next to him. This one; not as tall but still tallish and much thinner, had short buzzed black hair, and that coke fiend look, and aura about him. His skin was patchy with scabs, making him look like he had leprosy. Grinning at the boy behind her, exposed gapped and crooked overlapping teeth. He eyed her in a hunter-esque manner, and he with no books in hand, sat himself directly behind her. The two of them beginning to speak in low voices that made it feel as though they were mocking her for earlier. Though this could also be a resulting product of her acute paranoia caused from her severe social anxiety issues. This is going to be a LONG year…she thought uncomfortably, sighing deeply, though quietly.
Finally, fourth period was over. Luckily, nobody had sat next to her during the class. She had barely been listening to the curriculum outline the professor had been droning on about all period. Thoughts of the day finally ending and going into her large empty dorm to lay down and be far away from everyone was where her mind had really been for the entirety of the hour. Her movements were eager when the bell rang. As she stood up, nearly crashing into the two boys that sat in the seats behind her. The black-haired one snickered at the near collision. His laugh sounded hollow, negative and sickly. Much of a match to his appearance.
The hours dragged. But it was finally break hour. Without even a consideration of sitting with anyone, or even getting food, she sat herself down at an empty table in the far corner of the dinning hall. There was no hesitation in her actions to pull out her book on the historical legends of the Amazon tribes in the ancient world. Fore she knew, she would have absolutely nothing better, well nothing at all to do for an entire hour. After fifth hour, there was one more class ahead. Sixth hour Phys Ed. Which had been a fortunate turn of fate for her. Being that if she were worked up and sweating, she could shower immediately, and take her time. Not having to be worrying about the lateness to her next hour of class.
Her hour of free time ended all too quickly. The obnoxious bell blared signaling the change in classes once more. She reluctantly, yet somewhat happily [that it was the last class of her school day] dragged her sleepless body to the gymnasium where she had seen no one she recognized from any of her other classes. That she had been aware of anyhow. It was still the first day, could she really have been able to memorize every single face? The gymnasium was ridiculously large. So spacious it seemed unnecessary to have such a large scaled building just for physical activities to take place in. it was much more similar to a coliseum than a gym.
She put her foot up on the locker room bench as she yanked the laces of her toll-taken converse to tighten them. She sighed as she stepped out into the arena-like fitness center. The flourescent lights flickered with a buzz that sounded like that of an aggravated fly. She caught the glimpse of a menacing face that probably would've hissed like a cat if she were close enough for sound. The 'teacher' shooed her over to an oddball looking team, that appeared to be quite disorganized. And consisted of all boys. 'Of course, stick me on the loser team...' She thought as she made no attempt to hide the expression that clearly stated how she felt about her team, and this game. Volleyball. The WORST sport ever invented. Her team was a bunch of strange ones...well, strange was actually sugar-coating it. They looked like something out of a ridiculous high-school teen movie, the classic group of losers and freaks whose looks fit their status perfectly.
There were three skinny ones; then a chubby one. The tallest one had stringy black hair, and was pale and freckled which added to the label that screamed tall, lanky, and nerdy. His nose was crooked in a bizarre way. Or it seemed that way because of the way he scrunched his face up every two seconds. Then there was the blonde one, whose body said male, and hair said otherwise. This one was the 'Head Bitch in Charge' type of person; it was obvious by the way he scowled at his clumsy and/or inattentive teammates for their non-victories. He held characteristics that were similar to a Russian Czar, but more like a PMSing woman. His shoulder length yellowish blonde hair looked like those ridiculously fake hair models on television. He just might be a she...The other moderately tall one had bright red hair that looked far too vibrant to be natural. There was a great chance he was either gay, or some annoying emo kid who dyes their hair. Which is practically the same thing, but most gays aren't emo. He also wore some odd pair of goggle things; hiding a small portion of his face...though, most of his face was down because his distraction was a handheld digital world. But then again, maybe it was better off his face was not to be seen much of. The round one was the most disturbing of all their appearances. He possessed non-human features. He resembled that of a toad more than person, and was caught by unwilling eyes with his stubby sausage-like finger up his nose. Scraping at it like it were an endless canal. That must've been one stubborn booger. She gagged at even trying to make it comical, his greasy skin reflected the lights...There was nothing funny or entertaining about him. At ALL.
'Is this for fucking real? THESE are my teammates? I think I'll just convieniently have "female problems" the next couple of days to sit out...Male gym teachers do NOT want to hear about that type of thing. That should buy me some time to find a better reason. Or fake an injury or so-WHAM. Her thought process was interrupted by air traffic of a misguided ball. It pegged her on the back of her head, causing her to get knocked forward and hit the floor. It wasn't a K.O. but she was down for a good eight seconds. Nobody asked if she was alright, they stood there and gawked as she pulled herself from the dusty gym flooring. A lot of them looked shocked and a few even turned away. Oh great now wha-' she knew. She felt it. The hot red liquid streaming down the front of her body. Which to the people who weren't used to this girl's nosebleeds, was more like a river. Her team just stared at her, then the blonde one began scolding the class, demanding to know who shorted them a member. She felt her ears begin ringing and a small pressure build up in her chest began to feel more like suffocation. Sounds were slowing, and objects began to multiply. Another astma attack, AND a nosebleed in the same day. At the same time noless. Go figure. Clutching on to her own chest like an old man having a heart-attack she wobbled over and passed out on the dirty gym floor.
-End Chapter One-
you're all probably very bored...Don't worry, it picks up next chapter, swear.
I need criticism...BADLY x_x; so can at least ONE of the readers help me out hurr?
I thank whoever does with a cutely wrapped chibi L :D