~~ PICTURES OF YOU ~~
Warning: Crappiness and my specialty...OOC
Rating: T for mentions of drugs.
Summary: 628.) Pictures of You ~ Light and L
Character(s): Light
Date Written: 27 February 2011
Date Published: 17 March 2011
Word Count: 1,000 ((hahaha))
Dedication: to life, and everything in it!
AN:/: own nothing. Just doing this as a break from my Huckleberry Finn argument paper. =}
Light
I stare at the clock as I ignore the sounds of the newborn from next door. I want to end the screams, but it would be the war that couldn't be won. The domino effect—while it excites me—would lead to some mother somewhere waiting for a call that would never come. It would lead to just another name on my list: just another life to snuff.
Growling rips my stomach to shreds as I stare at the pictures flashing on the screen. No one heard over their grief. Good. I do not wish to bear the glances of disdain or pity. The people here know nothing. They know nothing of how the pictures of my father and I disgust me. How naïve and foolish I had been. Save the world? No. I want to own it. Nothing will stand in my way.
Not even my own father...
Nausea rolls over me as I run for the bathroom. The ingrate inside of my revolts, screaming that I killed him rings in my soul, but I put it down. I pull the small packet from my my pocket and down it's contents. The voice falls silent and I smirk. There really was a drug that could cure it all. Too bad it killed more people than it help. A smile-malicious and twisted-crawls into my mirror as my body begins to shake nervously: the final piece to my costume. I force my face to show terror and lament.
I reenter the room so filled with people genuinely mourning for my father. I smile Kira's smile. I'm a god, who cares who or what I could have been. I'm a god. The viewer stops and I burst into fake tears. The entire room surrounds me, trying to comfort the son who just lost his father on the job. Nobody sees the small slip up where I start to laugh. They do not care to think that I could smile at times like this.
See, I told you.
L
Time ticks slowly and I want to die. I want to join those more fortunate than I...but I have a job to do. I have to spend my life finding those less fortunate. I have to find the killers. I cannot stomach anyone who dares to mistreat another. This world was not created to be destroyed!
I laugh to myself as Watari shakes himself awake. How like myself to allow the others to think me godless. I believe in him. How can I not? With every breath I take despite knowing that I will die in this job, I still see him in the face of every child, adult, and creature for whom I find justice.
Sadly, it will be the war that will never be won. Even in any after life I will have, I will be damned into the same fate of being unable to ignore these cries that haunt me. Will I ever forget the face of the first body I discovered? Will I ever forget the words the killer etched into my mind as he recounted every explicit detail?
"And they always tell all the children that monsters do not exist." The jagged teeth of the satanic jinni flashed in what could only be Satan's Smile. "Obviously they never knew about the way I'd fuck their little children and then eat their sweet little hearts out."
I shake uncontrollably. I had been the one to find the last body...the one of my dearest little brother.
I vomit, and instantly Watari is by my side, holding my hair away from the mess that I am making. I avoid the reflective screen of the computer from which I worked. Every glance reminded me that I had burned all bridges home. To come home now meant the death of all and everything I'd ever even acknowledged existed upon this earth. There can never be another picture of me that sits upon someone's wall as they wait for me to call. I leave that all behind knowingly. Besides, there was nothing else I could have been. What else could there be for me but to be the one to bring those families.
"I wanna die, Watari..."
The old man nods, and goes to bring me my 'dessert.' Tonight, I needed the drugs that keeps me lucid and capable of my stoicism. I need the caffeine and the sugar. I need the comfort that their digestion brings.
A tear stains pale skin as I wait. I pray that God will hear my plea and bring me home. I'm broken and tired. I'm the bell that will never ring. I am the boxer in the ring who's lost all joy and thrill of the shot at the title. I can't even confess all the secrets I know. Far too many want to see me inside a pine box with no one around to celebrate the life I once had.
I refuse to see the pictures that Watari saved from the funeral pyre that I created in the room where my beloved baby brother lost his life in so violent a way. I refuse to see the careless child of fate that thought himself invincible. I refuse to see that child. I REFUSE!
The vomiting subsides. Even my solace refuses me any comfort. The team wants to know how I can stay so thin? They'd flip their minds to know that my body revolts at every, begging me to end my job...to end my life...
I lean my head against Watari and cry. There's nothing left to do with my life. I'll kill myself after Kira comes to his justice. I promise myself that, and allow myself to sleep for the first time in days.
At the end of the day, there will be no pictures of me to remind the world of who saved them from themselves. I smile and the world falls dead.
Sleep. The first in ages.