Oh you look so tired;
Mouth slackened wide.
Ill housed and ill advised
Your face is as mean as your life has been.
Crash into my arms, I WANT YOU.
You don't agree, but you don't refuse.
I know you…
And I know a place, where no one is likely to pass.
And you don't care if you're late, and you don't care if you're lost.
But oh you look so tired. But tonight you presume too much.
And if it's the last thing I ever do I'M GONNA GET YOU.
Crash into my arms, I WANT YOU.
You don't agree, but you don't refuse.
I KNOW YOU.
And no one knows a thing about me, I can come and go as I please…
Crash into my arms, I WANT YOU.
You don't agree, but you don't refuse…I know you…
Crash into my arms…I WANT YOU!
You don't agree, but you don't refuse…I know you…
--
"I'm sad."
Rain was falling over the train yard in cool waves. A small boy sat huddled in an immobile caboose; his raven hair stuck to the sides of his narrow, white face. Wide, black eyes watched as the two men disposed of their latest kill. They knew he was watching, but they didn't bother him. Not yet.
The small boy stood, uncurling from his hunched crouch. Long white fingers unfurled from their clenched positions with a crack. His swollen stomach didn't growl anymore, and the dizzying head-aches were fading as well.
Usually he would find a meager helping of wilted vegetables in the rubbish bins, but today he had a different plan.
He turned to the corpse…
--
L awoke with a shivering start. His black eyes had shot open in fear, and he clawed at the sheets as a life-line. His breath was caught in his throat; the dull ebbing of a faint head-ache was fading in the back of his head.
What…was that? L thought breathlessly; his knuckles were beginning to turn even paler from the constricting grip he had on the royal blue sheets. Slowly he let go, hearing the appendages crack lightly. He shivered, remembering the nightmare.
It had felt so real, almost too real for it to be a dream.
The detective sat up on the bed, running a long fingered hand through his tangled and sweaty hair.
He jumped out of the hot bed, and found himself retching into the toilet's porcelain bowl. His eyes bugged slightly as another wave of nausea washed over him.
Ever since his parents had died, he had been having the same dream over and over. I would always start off with a child's voice softly saying, "I'm sad." That's why he barely slept at all. His fatigue would be masked with his constant sugar intake, and the insane drive to complete a case.
L rested his head against the bathroom's tiled floor, a small whimper escaped his dry throat.
Watari knew nothing of his reoccurring nightmares, and L never planned to tell his old mentor.
There was a crack of thunder, and soon the power went out. When living in Wammy's for the first (and only) years of his schooling, L found out that he had a phobia of the dark. Even though he worked mostly in the dark, there was always something like a computer screen buzzing through out the night. But now he was covered in darkness with no light source what so ever.
The twenty-four year old curled up in a sniveling ball, breath coming out in short hyperventilating pants.
He refused to cry. He wouldn't…
There was a brief flash of lightening, and the small bathroom was doused in a tease of light.
"What's wrong, Lawli?" A dark crooning voice purred beside his ear. L's eyes snapped open.
No…
He could feel someone's hot breath fan over his cool ear. "Afraid of a little dark?" He felt spidery hands --too much like his own--wrap around his girlish wrists, pulling him off the floor.
Nothing, he could see absolutely nothing. He was blind!
"I'm sad to see the great detective L fall to the level of a sniveling child because the lights aren't on." His captor's grin glinted even in the dark. L knew who this was.
"B…" He breathed shakily, and felt the other's heart beat increase. No…B was dead! How then…?
"That's right, Lawli," Be smirked (L could tell because of the change in his voice.) "You look so tired…have you been sleeping well?"
Crazy…he's crazy!
"L-let go of me." L could feel B's spidery finger tips; calloused. Burnt. He could feel B lifting one his own hands to the other's face, and made his fingers apply pressure on the burnt skin.
"Do you feel this Lawli?" B breathed, as if in awe. "I did this because I love you…"
N-no…L held back bile that began to rise in his throat. The grip on his hand tightened so that there was a sickening crunch. L whimpered softly.
"You know that you are mine; I've loved you for so long, and you sleep with another." B sighed and clicked his tongue. "You'll have to be punished, darling."
At that moment, the power of the hotel came back on. L stared, wide eyed into his own pit-like eyes. The glossy mirror reviled his too pale face with his spidery fingers lightly touching his own cheek.
-
- Finis
--phew-- I wrote this during my lunch period while listening to "Jack the Ripper" by MORIESSY not Good Charlotte. In my opinion they butchered the song, but hey…that's my opinion. --shrug--
Please review!
