Oh mah goodnesh. Ah've got an effing Elton John song stuck in my head.
-cringes-
Anyway. Onto the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I don't own any Death Note stuff or things.
Warnings: Profanities, angst, llamas, breakfast cake, psychological mumbojumbo, and percentages.
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Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Yeah. I'm going to have a talk with Roger tomorrow. No, Watari, I don't like Roger. Maybe L would know, he seems to know everything about this place including things that the people here aren't supposed to know -cough-fuckinghacker-cough- anywho. I guess I should probably explain.
Mello had a bad dream. He told me about it. His mum and dad were in it.
Wow. My handwriting is udderly (heh-heh cow-pun) dreadful when I'm trying not to cry my fucking eyes out.
Yeah, his mum and dad were in it. He told me he heard a gun, then his mom screamed, and then there was blood. That made me think a little. Then he told me about the man who was yelling at the bad man who did it for "hurting his sister." I think… oh god, I don't want to think this… I think the man was my brother, and the "bad man" was Crazy Ol' Jimbo. Yeah. There's too many similarities. I want it to be a coincidence. I really, really do. But I don't think it is. That scares me. Mello told me that he was told by Roger that his parents died in a car crash, but he mentioned he had this dream before.
If this is real, I'm going to feel like its my fault. I think that if I had stopped Jimmy, they would still be alive. The only way to have stopped him would have been to have tried to, so he would have killed me and my brother would have killed him. If that had happened, then my parents might not have found out about us being in a gang, and they wouldn't have been "silenced." I'd be dead, but everyone else would be alive. If I weren't such a chicken.
It's natural for humans to fear death. I don't feel guilty about being afraid to die. I just feel bad for being a chicken and not trying harder than I did to save that couple. Regardless of whether they were really Mello's parents or not, I wish that Jimmy would die. And even more so if they were his parents. That poor kid.
-sigh- I need sleep. Now. I'm probably going to have nightmares now, too. I just hope that poor kid doesn't. I know I said he's annoying, but he's not a bad kid, really.
And yes, they're bloody fecking tearstains. You happy, you stupid book? You made me cry. Nice going, you papery bastard.
Until next time.
Oh, and on a side note to my therapist: You had BEST not tell Roger about ANYTHING I write in here. You may interpret it as you like, but if you tell Roger, I'm just going to start writing gibberish that doesn't make any sense.
You've been warned.
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Alpha shut her notebook, clipped the pen to its spiral by the cap, then threw it across the room on her floor.
"Damn that stupid book…" she thought aloud, tugging the covers on her bed up over her without so much as bothering to take off her boots. "Damn little kids…" She hugged an extra pillow to her chest so it came up to just under her nose as she turned sideways into a fetal position, her knees coming up to squish the pillow against her stomach. "Damn my stupid past…" She sniffed loudly. "Hate it here… wish I'd never got put in here… stupid orphanage… fucking assholes thinking I need a bloody shrink. Granted I talk to myself more than the average person, but that's no fucking reason to give me a bloody notebook to write my feelings in… just stupid!"
She didn't want sleep that night. She was afraid of the memories, afraid of the slideshow they would play for her on the back of her eyelids. She wasn't so much angry… and she didn't really want all little kids to go to hell, especially not Mello. She had never had anyone look up to her so much, aside from the retards in the gangs she was in, but they didn't count. They weren't important to her, and she never really gave a damn about any of them except for her brother. Her stupid, stupid brother who had to go and get his ass killed. He was brave. He might have been a bad kid, but he was valiant. He proved that he would take a bullet for someone else in trouble. Alpha, however, was just a shell of a teenager, where inside there hid a scared little girl who would duck when faced with the gun and let someone else take a bullet for her. She knew it was bad, but she was as afraid of being brave as she was of everything else.
Amidst her thoughts and in spite of herself, Alpha fell asleep anyway. She had planned to fight that tooth and nail, but she couldn't even beat sleep away from her.
She awoke early the next morning, at just around the time breakfast was starting to be served. She only changed her shirt (Iron Maiden the previous day, so she decided to change up for Queen that day from her variety of overly baggy band t-shirts). Alpha was quite thankful that she didn't remember anything she had dreamed the previous morning. She must not have had any nightmares…. That made her quite happy.
She picked up her notebook from where it had landed and grabbed her Biology book from her bookshelf, then headed downstairs, looking forward to a couple pieces of toast in the peace and quiet of the dining room at seven o' clock in the morning. However, she found that she wasn't going to be alone. Alpha sighed, setting her books on a table and moving over to the toaster in the adjacent kitchen, where she received a glare from a couple of cooks who were up early; she had taken to making her own breakfast, and they seemed to find her to be a nuisance. Meh. She didn't care. She wanted toast. Actually, waffles sounded better than toast. Dry waffles, sure. Why not? She wasn't particularly in the mood for any syrup. Or fruit. She grabbed the box of Eggos from the cabinet and pullout out a package. She would have preferred one, but there were two per package.
After popping them in the toaster, she went and sat back down at the table, looking to her right.
"You eat cake for breakfast?" she inquired, squinting as though her eyes could have been lying to her so early in the morning.
L looked at the cake, then at her. "It's coffee cake."
She almost cringed at the lack of any sort of tone in his voice. She wasn't sure why, but that just got to her for some reason.
"Why not just drink coffee?"
"Roger," he said. "No one under sixteen can have coffee."
"I'd dump it over his head if he told me that…" she said with a sigh. "I don't like that man at all. What?" she added, seeing him looking at her oddly.
"I don't believe your lip was pierced yesterday."
"That would be because it wasn't."
"It's dangerous to do it yourself. There's a high chance that they could get infected. At least sixty percent."
"I've done it before," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Hey," she added thoughtfully, remembering what she had been planning on asking around about, "do you– shit." She stopped as she heard the sound of her waffles popping up from the toaster in the kitchen. "I'll ask in a moment."
She stood from the table and moved back into the kitchen. Avoiding the cooks, she grabbed her waffles, ignoring how badly they were burning the ever-loving shit out of her fingers, and hurried back to the kitchen, setting the waffles on top of her biology book.
"You eat waffles with no syrup?"
She pursed her lips. "You eat cake for breakfast."
"I was merely making an observation. There is no need for hostility."
"Too early for big words…" Alpha grumbled, picking up a waffle and taking a bite of it. "Oh, right," she said, remembering her question. "Do you have any idea why there has been a small blond child following me around for the past few days?"
"Mello? According to what he says, it is apparently because you are 'awesome.'"
"Oooh, that's not good," she said, her voice mingled with nervous laughter. "It's what I expected, but it's not good. I know he used to follow you around," she said, her tone growing a little more nervous, in spite of herself. "Did he ever mention any nightmares?"
L's fork paused at his lips as his eyes swiveled over. "He's still having those?"
She nodded, setting her waffle back down on her biology book. "Came into my room at about ten o' clock last night. The fact there was blood trailing down my bottom lip probably didn't help the poor kid much." Seeing the odd look she was getting, she decided it would probably be good to elaborate. "See, I'm a vampire and I had just gotten back from a nightly prowl around town."
"That doesn't sound true."
"That's because it was really only because I had just pierced my lip and forgot about the ice for the middle one," she said. "He said it was about his parents, but Roger told him his parents died in a car crash."
L lowered his fork and pressed his thumb to his lips for a moment. "I do suppose that it's possible he's been having the dreams due to the strong psychological connection between the parent and the child. I think his subconscious mind knows what truly happened, while he consciously believes what he was told by Roger and Watari."
"So…" she said slowly, her mind not yet functioning properly enough to take in the psychological mumbo-jumbo being thrown at her, "what does that mean in English?"
L sighed. "It means that while Mello doesn't think he knows it, he really does know that his parents didn't die in a car wreck."
"They didn't? What exactly did happen then?"
"It's suspected that a gang member killed them, right next to the apartment building they were living in. It happened somewhere in Yorkshire, if I'm not mistaken. Two or three years ago. I know that Mello got here a year after it happened, since the youngest age you can get in is three, and he was two years old when it happened."
Yorkshire. That was where they had been…. That was where she had lived. That made it much more likely.
"Mello always said there were three people there," L said.
"Yes," she said. "One being the man who killed his parents."
"Correct. The other two apparently being a brother and a sister. The sister doesn't say anything, but she's mentioned, as the brother is always yelling at the other male about hurting his 'sister' in the dreams. He never seems to remember the faces of those three, only shadows and voices. Judging by your reaction," he added, "it seems the dream troubled you more than it would have most."
"Back off," she snapped involuntarily, making his eyebrows rise behind his messy bangs. "I get analyzed enough by the bloody shrink I got assigned to, I don't need anyone else doing it."
He paused for a moment, seeming to study both her reaction and her face, his eyes squinted as he focused. He then went back to his cake. "I see."
"You see what?"
"Signs of hostility at a simple observation," he said, his tones as bored as always, "meaning that you're more than likely hiding something. As you asked, there would be no point in getting angry," he added, glancing over. "That would practically be like getting angry with yourself."
Though she mumbled sardonically under her breath, she did know that he was right. She was hiding something, and there would be no point in getting angry with him. However, she couldn't help it.
"I'm not hiding anything."
"I didn't say definitely, I said more than likely," he said. "And if you are, then you would obviously say that you weren't hiding anything to make people think that you aren't."
Alpha gave a snort of laughter. "And they think I need therapy…"
"Roger has suggested that I may need a psychiatrist to Watari," L said, tilting his head sideways onto one of his knees (good God did he sit weird). "Watari disagrees. I am unsure of why he agreed that you might need therapy, he normally does his best to avoid it, since most children have many strange idiosyncrasies."
She blinked a few times. "Idio… synchrosies…? That sounds like synchronized swimming for idiots," Alpha mused, tapping a finger against her lip as she imagined how hysterical that would be.
"It means 'quirks,'" L said. "As in weird habits."
"Oh," she said slowly. "Like the way you eat cake for every meal, never sleep, and sit really strange?"
"Yes," he said, "and also like the way you write compulsively in that notebook."
"Considering your extremely monotonous tone, I have no idea if that was an insult or not, but I am inclined to take it as one."
"It was not meant to be taken as an insult, but if you see it as such, then you may."
"Well…" she said, struggling to find a half-way decent retort. This was why she didn't like genius kids. "Well you're a llama."
"I think you might be mistaken," L said. "You should probably read that book that you're using a plate before making such comments."
She looked down at her biology book. "Then you're a very llama-like human."
"Though I don't entirely understand how that is possible, you may think what you like."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're human? Most humans I knew before I got here would get at least a little pissed off at being called llama-like."
"I am quite sure I am a human."
"How sure?"
"At least ninety-nine percent, but closer to one hundred."
"You're not one hundred percent sure you're human? That's not a good sign…."
"I've learned that you can never be one hundred percent sure about anything. Maybe a thousandth of a percentage away from one hundred, but never exactly one hundred."
She inadvertently tilted her head sideways at him, her eyebrow still cocked. "Y… wh… oh, bugger, I'm just going to get confused if I ask… I'll be taking my waffles elsewhere." She stood up.
She carried her waffles on top of her biography book into the main sitting room, connected directly the dining area. She sat down on her favorite couch as children were starting to pile down the stairs for breakfast. She sighed and opened her notebook, taking the pen out of its spiral spine. There was really nothing better to do that early in the morning…
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Gah. L's a weirdo. I changed my mind about him being not-that-bad. I mean, he's only ninety-nine percent sure he's human. What. The. Fuck? That's just weird.
Said some weirdo thing about having learned that "you can never be one hundred percent sure about anything." Yeah. Thanks, but I'm one hundred percent sure of my humanity, alrighty? I know I'm a human. No questions there.
Unless I'm a Martian, of course.
Or Plutonian. I believe I came from Pluto. Yesssshhh I doo.
Haha. I just woke up a little bit ago. Eating a couple now-coldish Eggos. They're still pretty good. My biology book makes a good plate. Just don't tell Miss Mullen that I said so. She'd get pissed as hell.
Gah. I've got that damn class with Llama, and she fucking made me sit next to him. Dammit. He may get a pencil to the jugular (if ya wanna get technical about it) if I have to say a word to him. I swear to bob. If we ever use the science lab, I've heard she makes you pair with the person you sit next to. Blarg and a half. I don't want to work with that weirdo, guaranteed good grades or not.
I can see why Mello decided to start hangin out with me instead of Mr. Non-human Cake-eating Lack-of-sleep Sits-like-a-tard. Okay. That was a little harsh. But he's still a fucking llama, I don't care what you say, you stupid book.
Anyway, onto more important things. It turns out Mello's dreams were… ah… based on true events. L knows about it -somehow- and so that means that it did happen. In Yorkshire, actually. Happened when I would have been twelve and Mello would have been two. That means that it's very likely that it wasn't a coincidence that there were so many similarities.
Getting teary-eyed. Need to stop now. I'll be back later.
GACK!! Fucking insomniac just sat down on MY couch.
-grumbles incoherently-
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Alpha shut her notebook and shot the insomniac a look of pure venom. He, however, wasn't looking in her direction, so he didn't notice. She gave a loud, irritated sigh before moving over as far as she could against the armrest of her couch cushion. He looked over at this, his head tilted slightly. She shot him another glare. His eyes narrowed slightly, but more in concentration. She felt like she was being scanned. By a computer scanner. It wasn't pleasant. She resisted the urge to throw her pen at one of his rather, owl-like large eyes.
"There is a ninety-nine percent chance that you're hiding something," he said slowly, "and a fifteen percent chance that it has to do with Mello."
Okay. Maybe she was being scanned. Alpha tried to keep her expression blank, but failed horribly. Her eyes had already widened reflexively in fear that he might find out something if he kept doing this. There was another minute of silence that felt way too long for her. Her heart ran a marathon durring the wait before he made some other insanely accurate observation.
"There is a three percent chance," he continued, "that you knew how they died before he told you of his dream without knowing that they were his parents at the time."
Before she could stop herself, she gulped.
"Ten percent now," he said.
"On what grounds?" she inquired forcefully, her hotheadedness returning to her quickly.
"On the grounds of your changes in expression and subconscious reactions," he said.
"Well," she said through gritted teeth, "there's a fifty percent chance that I may drive my pen through your eye in the next thirty seconds. Willing to take the risk?"
"Yes," he said. "You call it a fifty percent chance, but it is obvious that you won't attempt it. Judging by your temper, you would have already driven your pen through my eye if you were going to."
"I– You– I– son of a bitch…"
Alpha stood up, every violent instinct in her telling her to attack him. However, her brain and its stupid rational train of thought wasn't going to let her. She picked up her biology book, her journal, and what was left of her last Eggo. She gave him one last glare before walking up the stairs, quickly passing a short blond someone on the way.
Thanks to the few fans I've got for this :)
I've just started it, so I didn't expect to have many fans within the first few chapter. The 7 I have now is surprising enough to me.
