It started with a gentle stinging, pain made by scratches. Day one. Week one.
Soon it became two and then into double digits. The silence was eating him. Breathing life to a monster ready to consume.
Slightly sharp nails no longer were enough. More and more the knives called out. One cut turned to two, two turned to four. The days growing longer. Not the crinkle of a chocolate wrapper, not the click of buttons, not a sound effect from a game, not even a quiet sob. Just utter silence. If you listened close enough, maybe a drip, drip, drip could be heard.
Roger was worried, Linda was worried, maybe even Near was worried. Only silence resounded from the room. That is to be expected though, Mello was the loud one. The games were loud to drown out the boy's yelling. That was no longer necessary.
L had died. Mello had left. And in turn, Matt was barely "alive."
The stripes covered the visible scars. The goggles hid the dead look his eyes carried. That wasn't a problem though, he hadn't left the room anyway. Mello had been gone for months now.
Roger brought food to him after it became established he refused to leave the room. Yes, the man hated kids, but the state the boy was in was beyond worrisome. He held somewhat of a soft spot for the kid, even though he hadn't cared in studies and often caused trouble. The spark Mello gave him was astounding to his motivation. Mello was the best worst thing to have happened to the boy.
Best because of the motivation and life Mello brought to him. Sometimes Mello even got him to study and pass in work. Though the old man suspected he kept third to remain behind Mello.
Worst because of the mischievous influence Mello projected and pushed into him and the scene unfolding before him. He depended too heavily on the blond without his presence he was lost.
He remembers walking in to deliver food and finding Matt passed out on Mello's bed. His sleeves had ridden up to reveal the gashes that stained Mello's pillow and sheets crimson turning brown. Unsure of how long he'd been lying there, he left the plate and made haste to the infirmary. That had been a few weeks ago and still the boy refused to leave the room.
Roger went to deliver food as usual and shifted the plate so he could knock on the door.
"I'm coming in," he knew the boy wouldn't answer, but it was polite and allowed Matt the time to be presentable. He went to try the door and found it locked.
"Matt? I have some food unlock the door."
Only silence responded.
"Matt?" Roger asked one more time as he took out the master key to all the rooms. He had a feeling it had moved beyond the self-mutilation and only hoped he wasn't too late.
The site was one to be etched into his mind. It was a flashback to A's time at Wammy's. Blood stained the floor and both beds. On the wall was written, "I'm sorry I failed you."
With a content smile and glazed eyes already dead to the world, Matt lie in the center of it all. Clutching a bloodstained chocolate wrapper.
Umm wow, study plus bad mood equal this….
I don't own death note, and there is an epilogue for this, but still working on it.
Well that was sad, same as usual criticism and errors are welcomed. However, I'm aware it's slightly disjointed it's meant to be.
Also, I'm aware that normally self-mutilation would probably make him be more carefully examined after being identified as to doing it, but I needed him to die and I wanted it dramatic so I'm aware that is not really likely.