Hey, whoever's reading this! :D I hope you like it. I'm planning to update every week or so from now on.
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(all content, including the poems, belongs to me except that that is originally a part of Death Note)
I broke up when the clouds
gave me an example.
When the sunshine jumped through,
I grabbed a handful.
I guess I never realized
that we were broken.
What we had was gone
before I even noticed.
…
I didn't know what it felt like to be emotionless and blank until now. It didn't last long, either. I don't know exactly what breaks me out of it.
It's something about the way the dark haired man looks at me with those huge (Tatyana) eyes once we land.
How he says, "You have to wake up now, Mello," even though I haven't been sleeping for about an hour.
I remember very suddenly that Tatyana wouldn't like it if I shattered like this. Taking a deep breath, I look up at him, raising an eyebrow hesitantly.
It feels so odd.
"Mello?" I murmur quietly, hating the way my thick Russian accent disrupts the word.
He nods, keeping eye contact with me. "We're now at a place where it's best that you don't use your birth name."
…whatever. "Why Mello?"
The left corner of his lip gives the barest hint of a twitch upwards just as Watari begins to unbuckle my seat.
"Because no one will ever see you coming."
…
The orphanage, formally named Whammy's House, I am informed, is a large castle-like building in the middle of a forest.
L leaves to who knows where soon after we arrive without a word. I miss his presence.
I cling to Watari's (Whammy's?) hand tightly, almost unaware of the action.
He chuckles as we enter. "You'll be fine."
I square my shoulders, gripping Papa's rosary momentarily with my free hand. It gives me the strength to take a deep breath and face the crowd as Watari opens the door on my new life.
The room itself is a beautiful sight, with stained-glass windows and a thick dark red carpet running down the center of a dark mahogany floor.
The large entry room is filled with twenty some minors of various ages and races. The youngest person I can see is about 2, the oldest anywhere near 17 or 18. All of them are wearing clothing very similar to what Watari gave me earlier. As soon as he closes the door behind us, everything goes quiet.
He proceeds to say something in a language I do not know. English, I'm guessing.
There is an assorted pause in which about a fourth of the children nod their heads anywhere from half-heartedly to over-eagerly. Someone mumbles something in a language I cannot quite understand.
He nods. Speaks again. The only words I understand this time are 'Mello' and 'Russia'.
Several people look at me, some saying a short word in the same foreign language. I look back at them blankly. Watari sighs and again says something with 'Russia' in it.
Everyone nods and starts to leave the room.
A young boy, about 2 years or so younger than me, comes up. He's very short, with light skin and near white curls. A toy robot is clutched in one hand.
"Hello," he says. I sigh in relief. Someone knows Russian. "My name is Near."
"I'm Mih-… Mello." I say, internally cursing myself for the small slip-up.
His large dark eyes flit to mine carefully. "Mello should be more careful. People don't survive very long here like that."
And then he leaves, giving the room an almost empty vibe. I bite the inside of my lip carefully.
…I don't know exactly what it is about that kid, but I don't like him.
…
Watari shows me to my room quickly. It's small and neat, with two beds and a window on the far wall and a TV against the one opposite to the beds. There's a clock on the wall above the TV screen.
"Do I have to share?"
He gives me a small smile. "Yes. I don't know where he is, though. Probably off in his own little world." I nod distractedly. I don't want to share.
'I can probably drive away the roommate whenever I get them,' I think.
"Well," Watari begins. "Your classes will start tomorrow. Your roommate, wherever his is, should be able to show you to all of them, seeing as you share all his classes. If you have any problems, take it up with one of your teachers. I've got to leave now." He gave me a brisk hug.
"Farewell, Mello. I hope you go far."
…
I lay on the bed closest to the door after finding someone's things (a Gameboy and a pair of orange goggles) around the one closest to the window. I'm staring at the ceiling.
It's white, with little bumps on the plaster about ever centimeter. If I tilt my head, the bumps kind of look like a face.
Tatyana. Mama. Papa. It differs every time I blink. I have to blink a lot for some reason. Must be something in my eyes. Maybe plaster dust from the ceiling?
I am most certainly not crying, that's for sure.
…
He's about my age, with dark red-brown hair and deep blue eyes. When he walks in, it's about 11pm and he's stumbling.
His eyes lock onto me blearily as he closes the door behind himself.
"So you're the new kid? From Russia, right?" he says in a extremely thick English accent. I nod.
"Whatever," he murmurs, sliding over to his bed, still wearing what seems to be a pair of long, baggy jeans and a long-sleeved, black, and dark red striped tee-shirt. "I'll show you around in the morning. Too tired right now." I choose not to say 'Duh.' , instead voting to go to sleep.
Or try. I don't really get any sleep the rest of the night, too afraid of invisible faces in the dark.
…
I decide to get up from my bed at about 7:30am, according to the clock. The other boy is still asleep as I turn the lights on.
When do my classes start?
I don't know, so I walk over to his bed. He's a lumpy pile of sheets and a thick comforter with a shock of mussed-up hair peeking out of the top. I shake his shoulder.
A incoherent mumbling noise comes back to greet me. I frown, shaking him more roughly.
Nothing. Maybe a snore.
I groan. Oh well. He asked for it. I grab the edge of the blankets and yank, sending him in a heap on the floor. His goggles, lost in the night, roll down seconds later to meet him.
I snicker before catching myself.
A large groan sounds off.
"…Bloody hell…" he slurs in a tired way, shielding his eyes from the light. I don't know exactly what he said, but I know cursing when I hear it. "What the-?"
I clear my throat, and he looks up to me.
He groans, rubbing his eyes and standing. "Let me guess. I slept in?"I nod. He sighs.
"Sorry." I notice that his accent is practically nonexistent now that he's more awake. "I'm not used to getting up early. What time is it?"
"7:30." He groans again, stretching. "Sorry, mate. Give me a second and I'll get dressed. It's Mello, right?"
I nod. He gives me a bleary smile. "I'm Matt. Nice to meet you."
…
I forgot hope and destiny
when I left this all behind.
I never truly thought I'd find
something else to be mine.
All the rips and tears
don't really mean a thing.
Because, when I'm with you,
I'm so happy I could sing.