I sat on the bench of the quiet park. I looked over to what use to be the green grassy field of the neighborhood park, which was now dead and screaming with childhood memories, memories I wanted to forget. Like the memories of L being shot. I really missed him, before I ponder those depressing memories, I felt two slightly muscular arms wrapped around my neck. I looked up to see Mello, his blonde hair waving in the wind, and his ice blue eyes staring right at me. I let out a breath

"You scared me." I said

"Oh, im sorry, so what are you doing here?" Mello said as he sat next to me

"Oh nothing, just reminiscing the memories that linger here."

"You really shouldn't be thinking about those things, Because I know it hurts me to think about him."

"Sometimes I just cant help it, I mean L was one of the few friends I had growing up. The thought of the bastard that shot him really broke me." I said looking down at the cement

"It really sucks that they never found out who shot him."

"They never even tried to solve the case god dammit!" I said angrily clenching my hand into a fist.

Mello could obviously tell I was quite worked up, whenever anyone brought up the topic, I always got pissed off, any other time, I was calm and laid back. Mello put his hand on my shoulder and tried to calm me down, which at the moment wasn't working. So I got up and left, I went to my secret tree, the one nobody knew about, it was where I was always calm. I arrived at the over-grown tree, I lifted up a couple of long branches so I could reach the body of the tree. Then I slowly climbed to a high, sturdy branch. I sat down, pulled out a cigarette and a lighter and lit the cigarette. As I breathed in, I felt the relaxing smoke filling me, after about five minutes, the cigarette reached its end, I put out the kindling heat on my jeans and threw it to the floor. All I could do was remember the days I spent with L when I was younger

"Higher Matt, higher!" L ecstatically yelled as I pushed him on the swings

"Awwwww L, but my arms are getting tired!"

"Okay." L responded as the swings slowed down and he got off "Look Matt! Theres a football in the field, lets go play with it!"

"Okay!" I said happily as I followed L to the field

L and me started to chase each other around with the ball, playfully tackling each other playfully to the ground, and then these two bigger looking kids walked over to us.

"Hey, that football is ours, we want it back." A deep voice rose from the kid on the left. His black hood covering most of his face.

"No, this is our ball, we found it here. Finders keepers, losers weepers." L said holding the ball in his arms.

"L, just give them the ball, we can find another." I said to L, but he didn't listen

"Is that so?" Said the other kid, this one was wearing a gray hood over their face

"Then keep this!" The kid in the black hood said as he pulled out a gun and shot L in the stomach, then they both took off.

I just stood wide-eyed for a couple of seconds, the shock of what just happened just set in. I quickly looked at L. He was lying in the middle of the field, blood pulsating from the gunshot wound, L was trying to scream, but couldn't. I looked at pool of blood L was laying in and my face turned white. I ran to L's side and grabbed his hand, and started to scream for help. I knew I couldn't leave L's side, so I sat next to him, screaming helplessly. Eventually a small blonde kid came out to see who was screaming, he looked about my age. He saw L and ran inside, probably calling for help, and he did, within a couple of minutes, the paramedics arrived. They ran to L,, and checked him out , they looked up at me with sincere eyes.

"I'm sorry. He's dead."

I couldn't believe what I just heard. I fell to my knees and looked at my hands. They were stained with L's ruby red blood. My eyes were wide, and I was in total shock. Pretty soon the little blond boy who called for help was running over to me, and kneeled beside me, put his arm around my shoulder and pressed my head on his shoulder as I started to cry.

After the blocked off the scene of the murder, the little blonde boy walked over to me.

"I'm really sorry." I looked into his blue eyes, the eyes of true friendship "Who are you anyways?"

"I'm Mail, but call me Matt. Who are you?." I said

"I'm Miheal, but you can call me Mello."

At that moment, true friends were made

"But that was went I was 7, I mean I'm 17 and it still hurts to think about it, I'm such a wuss."