It would always begin in the middle of the night. The perfect time for a child of four or five to be frightened; when the dim moonlight cast shadows on furniture and doorframes, making everything come to life. You could feel the cool, ghostly air rising from the wood floors and hear the creatures slithering underneath your bed. I would always try to will the thoughts away but some nights, when I thought everything would be okay and I could get a good night of rest something else would scare me senseless. In May, just a few months after my fifth birthday, every single night an awful wailing would begin, right around midnight when all the children should have been asleep. It was unearthly, something terrifying, something ghostly. My five year old mind was thoroughly convinced that a ghost walked the long hallways of the Wammy House. A former resident who died in the yard or in a bathroom, maybe.
"Waaahhh, waaahhh!" a shiver shook its way through my small frame and I groped at my pajama-clad chest for the black-beaded rosary that always hid behind the fabric of my shirt. It was here again; the ghost child. I squirmed onto my stomach and tucked my knees to my chest, silvery cross clutched desperately in my thin fingers. Hazardously I'd pull the covers over my blonde hair in a feeble attempt to hide myself, just in case the ghost child decided to fade through my door to find me.
"Dear Lord above," I'd begin to make up a prayer since I hadn't memorized nearly enough yet, "Please retrieve this child wondering the halls away from the Earthly world and back into your loving arms in Heaven. Amen." Small footsteps would grow closer and closer but every time I thought the ghost child would stop in my room the footsteps would start to fade away. Lying in bed for minutes, hours; I couldn't guess how much time passed. To frightened to move because of the cold, anxious fear in the pit of my gut I would start to let my insanely curious mind wander. Hundreds of questions would stifle their way through my mind and I'd eventually flop into a more comfortable sleeping position. Although I was sure that the ghost child was in my room watching me, I somehow found a way to fall asleep.
Like everyday my beeping alarm clock woke me at seven o' clock, disregarding the fact that I'd had an awful night of rest. Slashing the comforter off of my thin frame, violently I slammed my fist on the top of the LED lit clock. I was still becoming accustom to getting myself up and ready. Even after being at the House for nearly a year, every time the alarm would start beep, beep, beeping my thoughts would unconsciously drift to the soft hand that used to brush back my light hair from my face to rouse me from a sleeping state, the gentle voice telling me to wake up before my breakfast got cold. Wammy's House were apparently very confident that small children could get up and out on their own.
With a childish scowl I snatched my toiletries from my bedroom desk and headed for the bathroom, ready to endure another same-old, same-old day of schooling. I marked my night of hearing things as just a nightmare that felt real. I trotted to the bathroom and let the hot shower soak away my troubles. The steamy bathroom lulled me, and I became even more tired than I had when I'd awoken. Shaking off the fog in my head I turned off the water and finished getting ready for the day, sprinting to my classroom when I realized my shower had lasted ten minutes too long.
Never before had I had trouble paying attention while trying to learn. Than again, I'd never had such an awful night of sleep before. Sighing and resting my head on my hand, I darted my eyes across the classroom eyes landing on multiple things as I did so. Children around my age were flipping pages in their thick textbooks silently, reading as the teacher had instructed just a few minutes ago. The only two who seemed to be distracted was myself, staring at things with a bored, half-lidded expression, and the auburn-haired boy who never paid any attention anyway. My eyes rested on him and the dull glow of light coming from underneath his desk. We had spoken once or twice; he had shown me the direction of the dining room when I was still getting used to the large building but other than that I didn't know much about him besides that his alias was Matt and he was hardly in the sane world. Much rather playing on his worn-out aquamarine Gameboy. I didn't have much of an opinion on that one, he was all right, but much to lazy for me to befriend.
A soft hand touched my shoulder and I whipped my head around to see our teacher, with a sour look of confusion on her face. My heart beat rapidly; I had never been in trouble with authority before.
"Mello." she started, whispering so that she wouldn't disturb her precious class. "Why are you not reading pages 444 through 476?" A few heads turned regardless of the young woman's soft tone. Blood invaded my cheeks and I felt uneasy. Looking into her mud brown eyes I gave a small shrug and pulled my textbook out from inside my desk, turning the pages until they landed on the correct numbers. Her mouth was pushed into a straight line, as if she disapproved. I wasn't about to answer the question, it would only draw more attention, so I just started to read. Walking back to her desk with a shake of her head, she wrote something down on a piece of paper that I was sure would go to Mr. Ruvie, the "Vice Headmaster" of Wammy's House. This was ridiculous. I'd never gotten into trouble here before, why was she so mad at me? I was reading now wasn't I? Hot tears of embarrassment and resentment flooded my eyes, but I held them back. I glanced up and saw all sorts of eyes on me. Suddenly I felt anger towards Matt for not getting in trouble when I did. He was always getting away with things. His shadowed eyes glanced up at me for mere second before returning to his small handheld. I pouted full force and continued with my studies, feeling upset and withdrawn from the rest of the class. Never again do I want to get negative attention from a teacher.
[[Got this idea while reading a doujin. This is the shortest chapter I have ever posted and it feels… lame. So I'm going to apologize for something that I could have fixed but was too lazy too. Sorry. ^^" I just felt like it's been too long! Last post was Thanksgiving. It's been far too long! Next chapter will probably be longer. We'll see. =____="
So, like it? Hated it? Advice? Drop a review.
Don't-own-eet! If I did I would have all the sweet Death Note merchandise and everybody would look at me like a freak! Oh wait… they already do… K thx, bai!]]
