Chapter 2

Flawless Imperfection

Life was no longer something anyone had control over. Everyone's schedule had been followed so closely for so many long grueling years they were now convinced it wasn't in their power to change it. Time itself seemed to be smothered with molasses as it inched slowly forward only by the force of the humans of Earth. Life was one tedious ball of repetitive boredom that never rolled any faster or slower. Murder was committed every day, along with robbery, kidnapping, or any other sort of appalling crime that could come to mind. But, in some sort of unexplainable twist, none of those horrid things scared anyone anymore - they had just become part of the schedule. Every day they each watched the News and shook their heads disappointingly and tried to convince themselves that these criminals couldn't possibly be their allies, but devils in disguise. Even young children were subjected to the News on a daily basis. Having to watch parents crying, begging the public to contact them if they happen to see their eight-year-old daughter who had been kidnapped just days earlier. The culprit being a convicted sex offender posing as a caretaker. While the young viewers, asked themselves in the back of their still developing minds, will I be next? High class males being stabbed to death on their way to work, teens being beat to death over drugs, women being raped and put in bags to be thrown over the bridge's edge like garbage, and young children being taken advantage of in ways their innocent minds were unable to handle or even comprehend. Humans accepting this kind of violence as just another way of life was sign enough that something was seriously wrong. But everyone would rather live in bliss than in fear, so they all turned their blind side to the problem. In the back of their minds, their thoughts whispered, the one question that dominated over all else: how much longer do I have left?

Light Yagami was a seventeen-year-old senior, whose frame of mind separated him from the others who saw suffering as just another human necessity. He was blessed with intelligence, good looks, charm, and other qualities that would assure him a promising future. Though the young man was gifted in almost every aspect a human could dream of, he had nothing to channel all of his perfection into. He had spent so much time focusing on school he hadn't even thought of his life after graduation. But he was the smartest in his class, he could do anything, right? No. Anywhere Light went he would be miserable. He belonged to the minority of kids who actually had a chance at a rewarding life. One filled with money, success, authority over others inferior to themselves, and even material possessions that people in this day and age have become so reliant on. But as the idiot masses began to steadily increase around him, Light was beginning to find his mental barrier of tolerance was weakening a little more each day. On the outside, his face much resembled those around him: bored, distracted with basic teenage peer pressure, not wanting to be there in school when he could be out doing what he wanted and not what the state required of him. He had good posture, with a certain form of confidence that many his own age envied and those who were older praised. But beyond his seemingly perfect exterior he was screaming, maybe even praying, for something to grab him and pull him back from diving off the edge of composure and into the depths of insanity.

Light sat precariously in his chair, his chin resting on his palm as his dull listless eyes focused outside through the nearby window. The teacher's voice had become nothing but a dull drone that was either muffled or ignored by the students' own dominating thoughts. Though Light had zoned out a tad bit, he was always at least semi there unlike his classmates who were constantly chatting amongst themselves or playing on their cell phones. Everything the teachers said, Light committed to memory, so the next day when the educators' repeated the teachings for those who hadn't paid attention the day before, Light had all the time in the world to do whatever he pleased. All of that free time in a classroom without much to do, Light did the only option that actually somewhat appealed to him: he observed those around him. He'd hear their conversations, watched their body language as they signaled to each other from across the room, and even caught sight of a few text messages. His front row seat to the lack of interest in education always left him asking himself the same question - what's happening to the world?

Light was a victim. After many series of events that seemed to kick him out of the spotlight he worked so hard to put himself under, he concluded that he's being targeted by a superior being above. A being that clearly likes to see him suffer. A being who possesses the power to alter Light's life in a negative way just to get a good laugh. Almost as if the sinister god had a remote and continuously put Light's life in either slow motion or fast forward depending on what was most inconvenient for the boy. Light, who knew he was fighting a losing battle, gave in to the demands of the god, and became an apathetic robot just as those around him. Watching the News in silence as his kind were being slowly slaughtered for little to no reason. Everyone was quick to point fingers at those around them. Each of them not wanting to accept blame for any of their actions (whatever they may be). When in reality, their number one enemy was right in front of them every time they stood in front of a mirror.

The bell rang, shooting a spine tingling shrill throughout every inch of the school. It sent many sleep deprived students back into reality and startled many gossipers out of their conversations. The room was empty before the ring had even ended. Most of the students had already been halfway out of their seats watching the clock and counting the seconds until their freedom. Darting out of the room as if another second in there would kill them, leaving the teacher in mid-sentence as he stood still holding an open book in one hand and a whiteboard marker in the other. Light sat alone in the back corner of the room, his supplies not even packed yet. The teacher smiled to himself as he sat down at his desk, a sense of self-satisfaction knowing that at least one of his students wasn't dying to get out of his presence. It was that one student that inspired the teachers to get out of bed every morning. Even if all others seemed useless, at least there was Light Yagami. The boy's superiors expected much out of him as he came of age, but their expectations couldn't possibly be as high as the ones the boy demanded from himself.

School was indeed a wearisome daily process, but the teenager had a reason for not bolting out of the classroom everyday. That reason being he had nowhere he'd rather be. His home life wasjustas wearisome. The streets were packed with cars. Even the sidewalks seemed like roadways: people moving either too quickly or too slowly, everyone dodging each other in an attempt to get to a certain destination. Light had his hands pressed deep in his pockets as he walked, his stance somewhat slumped as the long previous night of studying was beginning to take its toll. His head hung low, his eyes watching his feet carry him in a pattern... left, right, left, right. He heard many grumbles from people around him as they swerved past him, his lack of concern toward getting out of their way upsetting them. But at this point he was beyond caring about anyone other than himself. He'd focus on getting out of the hole he'd dug and thrown himself in before he'd concentrate on anyone else's needs.

"I'm home."

Light said dully, his shoulder wincing with pain as the strap from his bag dug through his clothes and into his shoulder. The boy would surely deal with some sort of spine issues in the future due to the damage done by all those heavy school books. His mother poked her head around the corner of the kitchen and smiled at him. That kind of smile which is a mother's only option left when she no longer knows what to say to her child. Light was successful, he didn't rely on her for anything accept a room and a little food now and then. Even if for some reason she disappeared Light would easily be able to make it on his own. She was aware of this, and so was Light. She just needed to catch a quick glimpse of her son before he disappeared into his room each day. Her eyes tearing with pride and pain at the same time knowing that her existence was not necessary or even wanted by him. Him, the boy who didn't need any advice about girls, any help with homework, any reassurance that he'll pass an upcoming test, or even a hug to remind him that he was loved and all he was feeling was just a temporary adolescent faze. Light needed no one, because no one could hear his hollow soul as it cried for help in its jail cell that was his skull.

Light slowly made his way up the stairs, his eyes closed, as the stomach churning feeling of restlessness and exhaustion tortured his energy drained body. He sighed softly as he opened the door to his lair, throwing his backpack onto his desk chair and flopping down lifelessly onto his bed at a diagonal angle so one of his legs remained resting on the floor. His eyes traveled over the lines of the ceiling tiles, then focused on a small sliver of light that flowed from the exposed crack between his window and the curtain that covered it. Light made the mistake of turning on the television. After many minutes of silence as he lay motionless spread out on his bed, it seemed like a good idea. The familiar image of a man in a suit with a microphone appeared on the screen. Behind him, an ambulance. The lights of the vehicle sent red flashes through Light's room, making him feel as if he were actually there. He sat up on his elbows, so he could get a clear view of the screen. The long overdue sensation of interest actually flowing through his emotion starved body. The feeling quickly subsided though, leaving Light in total angst as his heart ached. It was just another typical News story. Man robs bank, people die, as so on and so forth. Light let his arms slide forward, allowing him to plop flat down against the bed once again. He scolded himself for even considering this case would be any different than those previous to it. He focused on the red flashes that shot across the ceiling as the ambulance continued to wail and the newscasters ran about in a delirious frenzy.

'It's always the same story. One pathetic criminal after the next all attempting some sort of asinine crime. Only to have their efforts prove to be pointless when they flee with empty hands at the sound of sirens, leaving many injured or even dead behind them...'

Light rested his hands behind his head as his eyes followed the red lights flashing in a circular pattern across the ceiling. He sighed deeply, his mind searching vigorously through all its records in an attempt to find something to think about. Anything to get his mind off the atrocities the News was shoving in peoples' faces. As if people don't have enough trouble accepting they have to share the world with idiots. Every other channel is focusing on what society is trying to forget, as if they get a kick out of reminding people of what they are working so hard to ignore and push out of their minds forever. A few weeks earlier, a journalist had been murdered. A well brought up Caucasian man in his mid forties, caught in the crossfire of two fighting gangsters. Due to the gangsters origin, the police were accused of being racist when they tried to arrest them for the homicide. Light only had one thing to say about the incident: "Great... There goes one less educated person."

Death was an inevitability that had already been accepted by the mass majority of humans. But murder? It was destined for some but not others. Most of the people, in this city in particular, had not only accepted death but expected it. Being swept off the road by a drunk driver was more common than a person dying of old age or disease. Some people reacted to this by becoming so timid they ended up going insane trying to stay alive. While others decided to live life like there's no tomorrow. Those were the first to be killed. It's those who weren't afraid of death, or who didn't expect it, that were swept away by the angels before all others. Sending those who still roamed Earth into a panic as they huddled together like a herd of lost sheep. Their own paranoia consuming them to the point where death didn't seem so frightening anymore.

The sirens had stopped, and the booming sound of the newscasters had gone as well. But that didn't mean the drama was over. It was just a commercial break. How kind of them to give the audience a few minutes to mourn over what they just witnessed while the News crew schemed on what sickening examples of inhumane evil to publicize next. As if it's a contest between News stations to see who can come up with the most heart breaking story. Which would be much more amusing if it were all just a movie and not reality. Light closed his eyes, so all he could see was the darkness of the back of his eyelids. The darkness was quickly shattered when something outside shone on his face. He closed his eyes tightly before opening them up just a crack. The setting sun shone through his window as the breeze blew the curtain forward. The forest green cloth swayed back and forth, revealing the sunset then hiding it repeatedly. Light watched without much interest. Not even catching the striking similarities between himself and the inanimate object before him. That's what he was, a curtain swaying in the breeze. Being forced against his will to move in a certain direction in a perpetual pattern that would lead him absolutely nowhere. His breathing began to slow, as his eyes became blurry with a layer of mist. His eyelids began to fall due to a sudden weight put upon them, and Light couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was dying. But it wasn't that simple. There was too much in store for him to leave Earth now, too much time had been destined for him, too many people who expected him to accomplish great things, leaving the world in awe at his brilliance after his departure. He prayed to the superior god above him, or anyone who was listening to just end the torture treatment and kill him already while he had a shred of dignity left. But all he received was silence, and he knew with every fiber of his being that someone up above was laughing at him, offering him the glimpse of freedom only to swipe it away the second Light reached out a hand to grasp it. He then found himself falling into a light sleep, one thought following him down:

'This world... Is rotting.'