Death note chapter

Looking back on it now I have come to an understanding with the methods in which we are tested at this orphanage that I so openly call home. What is it that people fear most? Some may believe it to be death, heights, spiders and in some cases thunder; the answer varies from person to person creating an overwhelming amount of theories. All of these fears can simply be summarized into one collaborate conclusion. The unknown. No one can see the future, for we are not gods. The crude realization of not knowing when you're going to die frightens people. The thought of not knowing if you may wake up to see your loved ones. Everything raveling and constricting to the thought of not knowing what is going to happen. This is what makes deductive skills the crudest yet most assertive method in the world. Something that every human possess but they simple cannot face facts and predict the sequence in which a decision will play out. This is what makes us letters the best at what we do. Sense we are expected to live up to our mentor L, our abyss of life was a competition from the very beginning. From the moment that I walked into the Wammy house till the moment I take my last breath. At the beginning I was questioned and experimented. The assertiveness of intelligence was approved but the anticipation of my success was yet to come in the future. At the beginning I was alone. I was still young and may I add I was the only female for quiet some time. Being the only child I went through a sequence of drills every day varying from math, English and history to constructing scenarios and fighting. This dawned the reluctant pursuit of my exhausting training. It was only a short six months that I had my begun my fruitless attempt to spend the rest of my life under that glamorized schedule. A Thursday marked 6 months, that I had been at the Wammy house. I had recently finished my history class and was allowed a small break due to the new child that was announced to arrive that day. I had begun to devoir yet another one of the caramel candies that I still enjoy to eat profusely. I could not quiet comprehend what my thoughts were, if I was excited to have another person who was only a few months younger than me. Spending the rest of their life with me at this orphanage, home, school call it what you will. Or was I doubtful, the malicious thought of having someone being by my side at all times. Attempting to take the place that I had already begun to strive for at only the age of 5. Jealousy. Something we were not supposed to fall prey to but never the less the curiosity have taken the front seat and enveloped my impudent young mind. I strode down the hallway my left arm behind my back; my finger continuously raveling my long hair. Tossing another one of my favorite candies into my mouth as I pondered over the new so called class mate that stood on the other side of Roger's office door. Every step filled with anxiety that seemed to leach throughout my body. Once arriving to Rogers's door at the end of the long hall. I came to a halt; I began to run many naïve ideas of what the child may look like, Boy of girl? Fat or skinny? What race? Smart obviously. In all retrospect I was still young and my mind had generic priorities at that age. I glanced down to my feet taking a long desired glare at my small shoes that looked like ballerina slippers. I wiggled my feet as I continued to think about the severity of this child being a superior successor than myself. I am A. I reassured myself; I am the first successor, should it not be obvious whose mind was truly superior? Was it the fear of being replaced? Or the thought of this child taking away my home. This fear was manipulative and overbearing. The thoughts continued pacify my movements. My mind was rambling sending me into a frenzy of questions. One of my teachers Hisoka who walked slowly behind me placed a hand on shoulder causing my spiraling mind to snap out of its thoughts. I turn my head to flash a glimpse at him. His dark brown hair shook as he nodded and gave me a very light push. Reinforcing me to move along. The persistent questions were only moments from becoming clear. Rogers door slowly pushed open as this marked the day I first saw him. B.