I was so bored when I wrote this, and slightly high off of the deliciousness they call cream eggs...Mmmmm... Sorry! Well, I'm drunk and I'm bored and isn't that the best setting for a MelloxMatt? I do believe so! Soo... Sorry if this sucks, I wasn't thinking too hard... Though with Matt's I kinda was...

Disclaimer:I don't own Death Note whatsoever!

Day and Night

That Night
Mello's

Summery: There are many different views on how Matt and Mello and ended up in an orphanage, this is just my view on how things went down.

That night was the worst night of my life. Not only had my father once again come home drunk as a skunk, but he was as high as the sky and showed no signs of coming down. That day had started normally, me and my sister playing out in the sun-kissed lawn with my ghastly mother. Though it had only been one hour, then the unfortunate weather of England took it's toll and it began to rain heavily. We ran inside and began games of hide and seek for hours, until our father came home. That's where my life was destroyed.

He came in tyranting about how worthless his life was, how his and his family's were nothing but dirt on the lords earth. He said that our lives were sin and we all deserved to die. Maybe he was right, but that gave him no right to act on it. That night, he began with my defenseless mother. He came up from behind her and held her throat with his knife. He asked her to repent while their children sat screaming in the corner. He yelled harshly for us to shut up and wait our turn. He pressed the knife hard against her skin and tears rolled down her perfect face. He asked her once again, but now with words of hate.

"Repent you lifeless wench! You'll never make it to heaven if you don't! Your more worthless then ever!" He said in a cruel voice that would turn the coldest of peoples' eyes down in shame. When she refused, his face grew red with horrid anger. No one had ever dared to refuse him his request. His hand and knife tightened and a small tear of blood rolled down her neck. She screamed as the pain washed over her fragile body. This was too much for her to handle.

"Mihael! Ophelia! Run! While you still have a cha-" She tried to scream, tried to warn us. But she was cut off by a gurgling coming from her throat. A river of red began flowing down her neck. We screamed and father regarded our existence, though we wished he hadn't. He smiled a cruel, sadistic smile as he dropped and kicked mother's body away as he walked towards us. I pushed my sisters' small frame behind me in hopes of protecting her from the dangerous man my father had become. And it was in vain as well. Because as soon as he found his way towards us he simple shoved me out of the way and grabbed hold of my small sister. She looked like a scared butterfly in the jaws of a venus flytrap, death close and unavoidable. He took hold of her long blond locks and pulled hard, she screamed my name and begged me to save her. And I tried. I grabbed onto my father's arm and pulled as hard as I my body would let me. Sadly I wasn't strong enough and he just threw me to the side like a rag doll. I didn't want to see my sister end like my mother, I had to think of something and fast. With the last reminents of strength I had I ran and found my father's old pistol. As a younger child I had seen my father work it and I knew fairly well how it worked. I tried to make it back in time when I heard my sisters' screams rattle the house, but I was too late.

My sister's small body lay on the hardwood floor, drenched in blood. Though I didn't look at her long, I saw a knife puncturing her small heart. There was a small life in her eyes, almost as if she was glad her last look at life was of me, and her eyes closed, showing her final death. And she wasn't coming back. Anger built inside my once forgiving blue eyes, I couldn't stand to look at that bastard I was forced to call my father. He turned from my sister's body to look at me with greedy eyes.

"I didn't want to kill her, but she refused to forgive her sins. And if you don't, that will be your fate. Your turn." He charged towards me, but I dodged him quickly, just barely getting out of his way. He turned on a dime and caught my arm before I could make any move to avoid him. He let another knife slide along my arm, not hard enough to bleed out, but hard enough to of made me cry out in extreme pain. I struggled hard but he just laughed and dug the knife harder into my skin. I made an atempt to hit him with my other arm when I remebered the object I held in it. The pistol. So without thinking and putting my now bloodthirsty body in control, I put the gun to my father's head and pulled the trigger. Unused to the power of a gun, I flew backwards by the force and fell onto the ground.

That night I watched my whole family die.

I watched my father's eyes widen and him fall to the ground. His eyes closed after a second and his breathing stopped. I froze in the position I was in. After a minute the realization that I had just killed my own father sunk in. As did the realization that I was alone now, that my family wasn't coming back. And that night, I sat down and cried from the first time. Through the tears I crawled over to my mother's body and took the rosary from around her ripped neck and returned to my fathers side.

It was a few hours later when the police arrived. They apparently had called from neighbors complaining about the noise coming from our house. When they saw the bodies they instantly thought that the killer was still at large. They cocked their guns and walked in slowly. They began running when they heard me crying. And when they walked in and saw me with a pistol in my hand and my father dead in front of me, they handcuffed me and took me away.

After I was proven innocent for every death except for my father's (That was proven to be self defense) I was sent to live with my only living relative, who died soon after my arrival. Once again I felt the pain of being alone, so much pain for a seven-year-old to feel. A few days after my relative's death, Wammy came for me. Somehow he knew that every one of my relatives had perished, he brought me to Wammy's house. That day I walked up to Wammy's house clutching my mother's rosary tight. In that one moment, I didn't feel so alone. I knew that my mother and sister wouldn't leave me so easily, they would see me through the rosary. Somehow that made me feel better then. To know that somehow, I wouldn't be alone.

That Day
Matt's

That day was just like any other.

You know what? What am I fucking? That day was anything but normal. Though, if one had been forced to see life through mine, it might have seemed normal.

My mother was a crack addict that seemed so distant, I barely felt the need to call her 'mother'. She was anything but. To this day, I wonder if she really cared, underneath the drugs and the alchol. But I guess I'll never know.

Already I tire of trying to explain how I felt that day, or my theories on my own mother. I really must focus on the task at hand. Telling the inferior reader how my poor mother dies.

We had been sitting in the same room for once without yelling and fighting. Although that didn't mean that we were exactly holding hands and singing show tunes. To be truthful, my mother had been silent that day. For once she had made me breakfast, a half decent one at that. But as we sat at the table, all she did wass stare at me. Now I realize the look in her eyes was pity, but my five year old mind couldn't comprehend that. When I was that young, and on that day, I really thought my mom loved me, even if it was just one day.

And it would be the last.

Being as normal as any crack addict, she shot up daily. She sent me out of the room that day, something she never did. Usually she gave no notice to me being there and just got high with me in the room. I could hear her scream for a second from the other room and I froze. Though this was no different than any other time she had gotten high, there was something about this scream that had sent my mind reeling. The house fell silent after a moment, not even my breathing could be heard. I quietly got up, not wanting to shatter the silence that seemed so fragile.

"Mother?" I asked weakly, scared, being only five at the time.

No answer

"Mom?" The house remained silent

"Mommy?" My voice was frantic now. There had been no answer. I started shivering hard as I walked over to the door that separated me from my mother. I shakily reached for the knob and opened it.

What stood-well sat-in the room would haunt me for life.

My mother sat in the center of the room facing the door I had just entered. Blood saturated her clothes around the wound that seemed to have killed her. A blade through the heart could easily kill anyone. I covered my mouth with my hand, my other reaching out to her souless body. I pushed her slightly and screamed when I felt how cold the skin was. I fell over, shaking violently. Slowly, my senses returned to me and I crawled over to mother. Or, should I say, mother's body.

"Mommy, you need to wake up now. It's almost lunch time." I cried pathetically. "Please momma, I'm hungry!" I urled my hands around her shirt and held on tight, fearing that if i let go, I'd lose the last bit of sanity I had left.

A few days later, the police arrived because the neighbors had complained about the smell coming from the house. They took me away from my mother, and immediatly sent me to some random orphanage, not really caring where I went, as long as I was out of their hair.

The normal child would feel unloved and uncared for, but I was used to it. This was what I had to deal with every day. But, then that day many days after the one that changed my life, I was sent off to Wammy's, only carrying the old gameboy, my only gift from my mother, the one I held near and dear. I approached the gates of Wammy's with a sad smile on my face.

That minute.
Nears'

I watched from afar the day Matt arrived.

I watched as Wammy led him out of the limo and into the building.

I watched as Wammy introduced him to Mello.

I watched as Matt taunted Mello.

I watched as Mello beat up Matt.

I watched the whole time.

I watched as they became instant friends.

I watched as an iron cord began to hold the two together.

I watched. And for once, I felt alone.

Well, that was a tad bit depressing. But I did enjoy writing it. It was fun. Mello's was well thought out. Matts was random but I pulled through with an idea. And Nears, well Near didn't really have one, but I had to include a bit about how Matt and Mello met. I also like Near so I kinda felt sad for him here... Don't hate the sheep! Please review! I worked hard on this!

I have the next one planned out.

Love, Phen 13