Random, I'm on a roll now... Two fics in one night, scary but I'm sure I will live... lol.

Anyway... don't ask where I got this from... I have no idea.

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mello's POV

The wind was harsh, cutting into my bones like splinters. I allowed the tears to pool from my eyes, not caring about weakness. Father always told me that real men don't cry, they don't show emotion, real men are strong and tough as marble. I wasn't a real man he told me. I'm still not even sure what I am, what I'm suppose to be.

Mother told me love is for a man a woman. I loved another man. Father told me this was a sin and God was shunning me. Mother told me to keep my hands off my brother. I couldn't. I often paid for this mistake. I can push my fingers into every open wound and trace every dented scar and remember clearly what these badges were for.

-----------------------

I was staring down at him, into his clear green eyes as our breath hot and feverish ghosted over our lips that were fluttering all over each other, down our necks, over our temples. We laced our fingers together and I held them above his head, forced into the pillows.

"I love you, Mello" he whispered into my neck, bucking his hips up into mine.

"I love you too, Matty" I replied, tightening my legs around his hips.

He thrust into me harshly, our bodies jerking and electrified. For every thrust inwards he fed into me he smashed his hips upwards shakily, meeting my force with his own. My tongue ran down his neck and dabbled at finding his hot spots, the spots that drove him wild.

His moans were quiet and muffled in my thick blonde hair, nose pushed harshly into my jaw line. My knuckles were white around his thin wrists, long nails digging into his skin and nearly drawing blood. He whimpered and moaned and writhed underneath me. We were both caught in a whirlwind of ecstasy and never even noticed the figure at the foot of the bed.

"What the fuck is going on here?" My fathers threatening voice spoke, I froze, Matt looked slightly embarrased at my fathers homophobic outburst. He didnt know what was coming, but I did. The same as what had happened when he found out I was gay...

I barely had time to react before I was dragged by my hair, off Matt. Squeezing my eyes shut in pain when I saw that my Matty looked almost as scared as I felt, before I was thrown onto the floor and my father adressed Matt.

"Get out of my fucking house" He said simply, glaring at my redhead angel, Matt flushed and looked at me. I nodded, I didnt want him getting hurt... the man I called father would take his anger out on anyone, even a fifteen year old. I watched as Matt pulled on his clothes, shaking and almost crying before being pushed out of the room.

The Tyrant (as I now called my father) turned back to me, then grabbed me by my hair and proceeded to kick at my ribs. I cupped my hands over my genitalia in an attempt to hide some of my shame as I was savagely beaten and bloodied. I didnt cry when he beat me anymore, I was too used to the pain by now... and when He was finally satisfied and left my bottom lip was cracked and split wide open. My ribs ached and cracked every time I breathed in and I could barely move my body at all anymore.

-----------------------

I stared down at the lights below me, their twinkling blinding glare taunting me. I could nearly hear the city streets screaming jump, trying to usher me off the edge. I ran my thin fingers through my shoulder length blonde hair and sighed heavily, adrenaline building and pleading me to stop what I was doing.

I licked at the scar on my bottom lip and closed my eyes. The edge was slippery and alluring. I slid my one foot across the damp bricks. Wetter than I first thought. I stared down at the cars below me and wondered if I was alone in this. If I was the first fucked up kid who ever fell in love with a guy and was viciously mutilated for it. By my father... and by myself.

-----------------------

After that day and I never spoke one on one. No one spoke to me in the house any longer. I was referred to as 'him' 'boy' or 'it' but never 'Mello' never 'son', I was nothing to them. I begun to believe I was nothing to me either.

I felt like I was a bad boy after all, the outside Mello was a devilish demon child, a sinner and he was a burden to the family. The inside Mello was scared and weak, small and alone. I no longer had a room. I slept on the back porch. When winter rolled around I'd curl under the swinging chair and hide in a tarp, making sure to wake up early enough to pretend like I'd never done that. The Mello on the outside didn't deserve that. He was a bad boy, a queer, a sinner. A disgrace to God, a disgrace to the Keehl name... a disgrace to myself...

The outside Mello made mummy cry, he made daddy angry, and he made Matty scared. The outside Mello was evil and deranged, he wasn't meant to be alive. The inside Mello was deserving and loving and warm and intelligent. The inside Mello had a thing for words and imagery, the inside Mello liked to write and sing.

Many nights out on the porch were spent with my secret hidden diary and a throat spewing lyrics and hidden meanings. On the outside porch was where I found myself after having lost my family...

-----------------------

At the mere thought of this my back burned and ached, the scars digging deeper into my skin and stinging painfully.

I let my leg dangle over the side of the building, hoping that I'd slip. All I was waiting for was a sign, anything. I was completely blinded by the memories and the emotions that I wished to kill. Only, in killing the memories meant killing myself.

Death is a funny thing. When someone dies, of his or her own accord or someone else's, you really see what kind of a person he or she is. Take a knife to a man and bring it to his throat and you'll see exactly who he is. Bring yourself to the edge of a building and you find out who you are.

I am a coward.

-----------------------

I spent nights documenting my days. Even I can't explain why but even when my fingers were broken or too shredded to hold whatever writing utensil I could find I'd make sure to force myself to do so. I think, without even realizing it, I was writing for Matt. Saving up these memories and events for this exact moment. I always knew I was destined for suicide.

The last entry in my journal was just for Matt; written just minutes before I ended up on this fucking building. I made sure to sneak into his house and leave the opened notebook on his bed; he'd read it after his shower. I knew he would.

-----------------------

I straightened my body and carefully turned around on the edge of the building. I closed my eyes and prayed for forgiveness. Nothing could hold me back anymore, not even Matt. I spread my arms out to the side and let my body fall backwards. In death I was relaxed, never opening my eyes. I hit the ground. I think that was the first smile I'd worn across my lips since my father found Matty and me... Death didnt hurt... because my father had already killed my soul.

-----------------------

Dearest Matty,

Words cannot express the amount of pain I've suffered through since our last intimate moment. The last time I heard you moan was the last time I heard my heart. I've been a walking skeleton for months now. Do you know what it's like to look into the mirror and see nothing but corpse staring back at you with hollow eyes and an ugly grin twisted over starving lips?

Everyday was like living through a terrible movie. I started seeing the world in black and white; you were the only color in my bland vision. When I'd see you on the rare occasion I could feel my heart start to beat again, but as soon as you left my view my heart stopped and I grew weak.

A person can only hold so much pain and so much hurt before they drown under the pressure. A person can only adapt to things so far before they snap and break even more then they already have. I wish you could have gotten to know me better. I wish I never took what we had for granted.

You were my first love and my last. I am leaving this world with empty hands but I will watch over you. I'll protect you now by doing this...

I am letting you go now, Matty, but I'll never leave you. I feel it appropriate to tell you now that you smile in your sleep and dream of me. You talk and cry and smile and grin and tell me about how much I mean to you in your sleep.

I sang you to sleep every day for months. I'll never stop singing. You became my voice and every lyric I whispered to you was just for you, written and composed for the love of my life. You were my heart Matty, and we all know what happens when we lose our heart.

You won't see my starving ninety-six pound body anymore, you won't see my brittle nails or my thinning hair anymore, but I'll still see you. I'll watch over you Matt, just like I always wished you'd do me. Never stop smiling, let the world see how strong you are. Don't let your coward of a boyfriend bring you down. You're worth every pain in the world.

I kissed you last night, less then twenty-four hours ago, when you slept. You smiled and your face lit up brighter then any star. You were my solar system; I revolved around you; you kept me alive as long as you could but now it's time to let you go.

Never stop smiling Matty, and remember me when I leave.

Good night, Matt... I love you
Mells.

Mail Jeevas stared towards the flashing of the ambulances and cop cars. A tattered red notebook clutched in his hands and for the first time in his life he let the tears wash over him.

"Good night, Mells"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reveiws are gold... and they earn lotsa hugs and cookies!