Marionette

Misa Amane, I really don't know what to say about her. I hated her a first, for being the ditsy, cute girl who obsesses over Light. But then, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She cared so much for Light, yet he casts her affection aside and sees her as a tool for him to use. She probably knew that, but denies it. So that's where I got the idea for this fic:

I stand over the edge of the tower, with only a cold, black railing separating me from life and death. I clutch it with my dear life, knuckles trembling, palms sweaty, knees shaking. The cold wind furiously whips, tearing at my dress, and stinging my face. Only then, I realize that I was really being used. Only then, I realize that I was never loved by him. Only then, I refuse to deny these facts. I grip the railing tighter, chipping my black, lacquer manicure, ever so slightly. Over the edge, a vast, evening silhouette of Tokyo's cityscape spreads out before me.

My indecisive mind keeps pondering on how I should just jump into the early twilight sky and end my life, or should I climb back down and try to rebuild my life from ruins. By jumping, I will be able to cut the strings from the puppeteer, for good. But rebuilding my life seems to be the more reasonable choice. Light's dead, and by living on I can live my life my own way, without him making decisions for me, but my past will still haunt me. The guilt of taking away so many lives sits heavily in the pit of my stomach, like dead weight. Literally dead weight.

With every single thing Light has done to me, a small voice in my heart whispers:

"He's using you."

The voice has probably gone hoarse by now. I've always denied that little voice, and called the other girls that are also close to him tools to mute the voice. I've hated myself for doing that. Why had I refused to believe that I was a human marionette, with strings attached to Light. Light, always pulling the strings, controlling me. He doesn't know me as a person, as a whole. He doesn't know that I actually think, nobody knows (well, I refuse to show others that I think anyways). A strand of blonde hair blows into my face. I let go of the railing and gently tuck it behind my ear, where it belongs. I clutch the railing once again, with my slippery, sweat-drenched hands.

My dress ripples and billows in the wind, soft, black fabric meeting my skin. I grip the iron railing with all my might. How could I be so stupid? So blind? So naïve? A burning, angry tear makes its way down my cheek. I grit my teeth and lean forward.

"HE'S USING YOU!" The voice screams this time.

Why do I even deserve to live, such a pathetic excuse for a human. A porcelain marionette with no mind of her own. Dancing on a stage, playing the master's game. Being forever tied by strings. Part of me wonders if this is really my fault? Part of me cries out that Light is the one to blame. Argh! I don't want to carry the burden of living on anymore! In a blind furry of rage, I climb over the railing and launch myself off the tower.

I plummet down, from the sky like a black raven. I feel free, liberated from my guilt, from my pain, I've cut away all the guilt and strings. I'm not falling, I'm flying in the violet-orange sky. For I am a raven. In my mind, my dress turns into silky, black and silver feathers. They fall from the sky as well. I am flying only until I smack the pavement, head-first.

The immerse pain hits me and reverberates throughout my body. I hear the sickening crunch of my bones breaking, and my skull cracking. Everything after that turns into a white, hot vision, from the impact. I am truly free, at last.