Fallen Angel
Fallen Angel
I open my eyes, and the world is dark. What else could it be now that you're gone, my God, my Light? Without you, the world will be killed by its sins. I wish you were still here, Light. When you were still . . . with me, everything made sense. I had a purpose. I had you.
I know what you thought about me. I know you thought I was just some stupid girl who could get you to your goal. I know that if you had reached that goal, you would have left me. I know you didn't love me.
But you see, Light, my love, that doesn't matter. It didn't matter when you were alive, and it matters even less now. I just wanted to be near you, like a flower turning toward the sun, not to get any love from the sun, just to soak up any little bit of sun that might fall on her.
You saved my life, Light, even if you never meant to. And if you did, you didn't do it so I'd love you. You didn't care about that kind of thing. Maybe that's why I could never leave you. Maybe that's why everything I see now is dark. I have no light anymore. My Light is gone.
I wish I knew where you were. I suppose it doesn't matter, though. You wouldn't care. All you wanted was here, everything you ever hoped to do. Would it comfort you to know that I still remember you, that many people still admire what you tried to do, though few will say so anymore? I doubt it. That would probably make you even sadder, if you could see. But that's not what makes me sad, Light . . . It's that even though I see websites and graffiti and flyers on telephone poles dedicated to you, I'm the only one who knows who you are, who ever really knew you. But I guess I didn't really know that. You never showed me. But still I loved you. Love you.
That's the worst part, Light. I didn't stop loving you when you made it clear you didn't love me. I didn't stop loving you when you ignored me or when you gave me that look like I was the lowest, dumbest person on earth. I didn't stop loving you when you died. I haven't stopped loving you now.
You knew, Light my love, you were all I had left. You made me, in a way. After my parents were killed, I thought about killing myself. What else could I do? I had nothing keeping me in a world that was just as dark as it is now. And then I heard that my parents' killer had died of a heart attack, and that it was suspected that someone named Kira had killed him. It was then that I knew I had something keeping me here for a little while longer. I had you.
And then when Rem gave me that Death Note . . . Then I had a mission. I had a way to help you. You were more than just a reason for living; you were a way for me to live as I never had before. That's why it didn't matter that you didn't love me. You made me. Why should you owe me anything? So I gave you everything I had, and now that you're gone you've taken all that with you to the darkness.
So I have no choice. I'm going to follow you. What else can I do? I'm not killing myself, you see. There's no "myself" anymore to kill. I'm just finding myself again, which means I have to find you. I want some sunlight again. I miss the color you gave my world. I have no choice. Loving you took that choice away from me.
I'll see you soon, Light . . .
I'm walking through a faceless crowd, facing straight ahead, singing my death poem. I get some strange looks, walking in the middle of the city, dressed up in my best black dress for my funeral, singing to myself, but I ignore them. Why should I care about these stupid humans, so tied to this dark shadow world? I'm going to the light.
The sun is going down. It's so dark in my shadow world now. I need Light now . . . I'm coming to you, my love.
It's windy. The sun is going down. I can already feel the chill of night coming. I step to the edge of the roof and look down. The wind caresses my face, so soft. I close my eyes, and I see your face. I'm ready, Light my love, my God. I'm coming. The wind plays with my dress, blowing the sleeves back like big, black wings. I'm an angel, I think, smiling softly. I'm an angel to my God of Death, my Light.
And with that last thought, I finish my song and take a step, letting the wind carry me down down down, my arms held back like wings behind me. I'm a fallen angel, redeeming myself at last.
There is no pain, in the end. There is only the faint sound of cracking bone, and then . . .
Light. All I can see is bright bright light. And then I'm gone.