Disclaimer: It would be interesting if I owned Death Note…but I don't.

AN: I kind of want to give you guys a break from the normal story chapters….while this chapter is still relevant, it's more of a peek into the background of Heather's life. It puts into stone what has already been hinted and said, so there's not sudden plot twists. I think. And, if I were you, I would be paying attention to the dates that appear right before the chapter number….if you don't many of you are probably going to get horribly confused. And I want to apologize….this chapter is much shorter than the recent ones, but I could update much sooner because it was shorter and easier to edit.

Story Arc 1: The Project

March 25th, 2004

Chapter 12

England's spring was torturously cool, which was a drastic different from Arizona's own hot, dusty spring. The rain was sporadic - each day was basically Russian roulette what with the randomness of time and day of England's precipitation. Sometimes it was for ten minutes, others it was for days. It seemed as if England's weather had the temperament of a menopausal woman with it's seemingly non-meditative floods. When it was sunny it wasn't that much of a break either, rather the heat from the sun seduced any kind of moisture in anything to raise itself into the air and suffocate everyone and everything in a blanket of humidity.

We had the immediate displeasure of living in an unairconditioned apartment in the heavily crowded lower class district of London. Where masses of displeasing-ly odored people lived stacked on top of each other in ill regulated (and certainly not code regulated) constructed concrete structures with nothing but thin, papery partitions separated each family's privacy from another.

Which meant, while we knew everyone else's business, they all of ours as well. They knew when my father left in the afternoon and if he returned early the next morning. They knew, as I did, when my mother was distraught. They knew everything. And it was unnerving and intimate.

And that was how the day greeted my mother and I.

The looks as we passed residences of our apartment were enough to silence any type of conversation we might have had. My father had come home this morning completely drunk and out of his mind. We, and the entire building, had both awakened by my father's drunk mumblings as he stumbled through the house, bumping into furniture and throwing random objects off of surfaces in frustration.

My mother had taken to sleeping with me recently. She refused to sleep in bed that would only make her realise how lonely she was - and I didn't blame her. I needed just as much comfort as she did. While my father's antics weren't all that new - it was basically the same routine here as it had been in Arizona - I had hoped that the change in location would have helped to safe my father from his habits.

I think my mother had assumed the same because each time my father resurfaced from one of his nightly ventures my mother rose from her spot in my bed to confront him. Or perhaps it was more confrontation than it was anything else -and they were, more often than not, violent on some degree. Usually, as things escalated, it was my father who would throw objects. But sometimes my mother would equivocate his drunk rage with her own.

Today was the aftermath of one of those instances.

When I finally had taken up the courage to rise - certainly after everything had calmed down and was silent - I was met with a sort of war zone. Shards of broken glass and tempered clay littered the floor. Several pieces of furniture had been tipped over and thrown across the room from where they had originally been: the kitchen table was leaning against the couch in the living room while one of the end tables had been picked up and tossed halfway into the hallway.

After I attempted some kind of clean up in the living room and kitchen, I searched the apartment for my mother and father. While I didn't find my father (I could probably assume that he had left earlier), I did locate my mother in their bed, sleeping.

It was always after one of these particular fights that my mother and I dared to leave the apartment to go out and grocery shop. It was nice to get out; today was uncharacteristically bright and warm. I enjoyed feeling sun on my skin as my mother and I walked to the store. It felt so good to be outside I could almost forget the disastrous night. But my mother was struggling with it: her hand clutched mine in a stoney, unwavering grip - as if she were using my presence as a lifeline to reality.

And I tried my best to use our humane connection to ground her, to tell her that everything was alright. I wanted to be her reassurance - her rock. But I could see - the only way a child born into those circumstances could see. She was breaking. Her fire was burning out and I had no way to stoke the coals….no wood to add to her soul.

It hurt to see my mother slowly wither away. I could remember when she was vibrant, with a temperament and love of Jesus Christ himself...a stark contrast to the broken crust of a woman attached to my hand.

The air was thick with tension and humidity. My mother kept her eyes forward, searching for something in the distance. I kept my gaze low, tracing the cracks on the sidewalk; I used to avoid stepping on them in an effort to safe my mother from a terrible fate, now I just wished that the forces that made it happen would save her from her suffering.

As I was lost in my own self-loathing musing my mother froze mid-step. I was yanked back from my own progression and I almost fell on my butt. Righting myself, I glared up at my mother. And what I saw caused me to freeze any form of protest.

She was staring straight ahead just as normal, but her face contorted in the most terrifying display of fear I had ever seen. Her jaw was open and jutted forward, her already pale skin was electrifyingly white.

I followed her gaze, wondering what immortal being could scare my mother so much.

Walking towards us were four large men in suits. Their eyes were covered by sunglasses, but their features were anything but friendly. They walked with sort of determination that could have been mistaken as confidence. But no, their postures stood stalk straight. Ridged. As if they were ready for anything. And I suppose they really were, because they started sprinting when my mother violently yanked me around. She practically dragged me as she sprinted back down the street.

For a couple blocks, I stumbled along behind her, practically flailing in her wake when she stopped and whipped around, her face flushed and angry, "Do you think this is a game?" She looked behind me and I saw a flash of despair cross her face. "Run."

The word didn't register. Without her? With her? What did she mean?

Her gaze flicked down to me, "Run!" She pushed me behind her before she charged at the men, screaming back at me, "Run Heather! RUN!"

And I did. I ran. And ran. And ran. I ran until I was certain that the men were no longer follow me. Until I was certain that no one could ever find me, because I knew if I didn't know where I was no one else would either. Until my feet ached, because I knew another step would put even more distance between me and the men. Until I was practically limping down the sidewalk, because I knew the pain was distracting me. Until I collapsed in front of a police station, because I knew that they could, for the first time, help me. Until I was questioned, because I knew they could save my mother. Until I was transferred to Wammy's, because I knew I would be safer. Until I was in my room, because I knew that I could finally rest.

AN:

Okay….I'm going to respond the reviews who reviewed the story since the last chapter!

chubbypanda10: Here is an update for you! I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far! I know I am loving writing it! I hope this chapter and future chapters continue to make you interested! Much love to you! P.S. - Your username is just the cutest little thing!

Kinetic: I am so glad you are excited for the next chapter! I am too! I hope you continue to enjoy the chapters….I'm doing my best to get them written and out to you guys!