I tapped my pencil on my desk at home. I flipped through my dream diary, also a regular diary. I began to read.

" Entry 1: Today i dreamt about someone sawing someone apart. I watched. It seemed ok. He asked if i wanted to join. I politely declined. But i wanted to say yes."

"Entry 2: Today mother visited me. She said the medicine will make the voices go away. But i don't want them too..They are just so friendly!"

"Entry 3: Today i dreamt about uncle. He was tutoring me. He seemed so kind. Then he stabbed me. But then it all changed. Turns out i was awake, trying to shove a knife into my attendant. I apologized, even if i didn't want to. Im tired of all the medicine."

I slammed it shut and exhaled, rubbing my temples. I was only 15. There was no need to deal with my childhood anymore. I was a psychopath. It was a proven fact. But the pills helped. I grabbed the bottle, taking a few, swallowing nervously. It was inherited from my father ironically. He always hit me and mother. Then we had run away, and voices began to take his place, telling me i wasn't good enough, and cause me to attack myself and others. It was slowly going away, so i wouldnt have to deal with taking the pills anymore.

I liked that. But mother was sick, and so was grandma. They had attendants, and i helped but i often wondered what was going to happen to me sooner or later. My mother would smile and nod, and speak of a place where a great detective went. She would always murmur the name, so softly i wouldn't be able to hear.

"Yume, dinner is ready!" I glanced at my door and stood, running downstairs, and slid on my socks into the kitchen. I sat down on my knees on the pillow, and bowed to thank the attendant for the meal. My mother was the only one there. " It's rice cakes, and salmon. Perhaps you can make some sushi for lunch tomorrow? We have plenty of white rice left over." She smiled kindly. I nodded, and began to eat, but my mind wandered.

I was walking through the night. I was young, about 5, holding my mother and fathers hand. Light ran up, and shot them both, and picked me up and started running. I screamed, looking back at them. " MOMMY DADDY!" Light set me down in a dark playground. The trees had eyes, watching me. He smiled, bending down and pet my head. "Be careful, they are always watching." He stood up, and looked at his watch. He opened a compartment and started writing. I stared up at him, until he dropped down, so quickly. He died of a heart attack. His watch had the numbers : 252 written on it.

I sat up suddenly, my heart racing. I grabbed my journal, and began scribbling down the dream. I would think it over later. But for now, i needed sleep. I lay back down, and curled up, sighing as i drifted off.

But i couldn't. Not just yet. I sat up.

"252.." i whispered touching my lips. Of course dreams represented your darkest fears and desires, i often couldn't differentiate between the two. Was i afraid of killing others, or was i wanting it? I got up, walking to my laptop, and chewed on my fingernail, opening it up as i typed in: Light Yagami 252.

"Nothing.. Damnit." I sighed, and just wrote the numbers down, flipping on the light. "Maybe its a hidden code." I blinked picking up the phone. 252...Ana. I blinked, looking up. I knew nobody named Ana. Maybe like that stupid urban legend? Ana Manto.

The story goes, that Ana Manto waits in the last stall in the girls bathroom, and wears a mask and cloak to cover his beautiful face and body. He is said to offer red or blue paper. If you say red, you will be killed and drenched in your blood. If you choose blue, you are strangled, or drained of blue. They say that to avoid being killed, you can choose nothing. If you try to trick him, then he will drag you into another world.

I sighed, shaking my head. "This is useless." I layed in bed, considering my options on how to take the message. Maybe i will meet someone named Ana? Or maybe they are nonsense numbers? I shook my head again, and crawled into bed, laying down. I watched the sun rise, considering everything.