Let Her Be ((DeathNote FanFic))

"Let her be." His sweet voice echoed through the hallways of Wammy's lively orphanage. I sat alone on the steps of the majestic home and wondered if I could ever 'be'.


1. Nothing More.

((A/N: Listening to a sad melody. (Want a link?;) It helps with sad stories. I want this Fanfic to be fun, but hard hitting in places. I like things that make me cry, so I'm weird ^^))

I sat on the steps, my heart heavy and my limbs flailing by my sides. I found the strength to wipe the run away tear that had leaked alone onto my cold face. I felt no warmth under my own cheeks, no cheery red and rosy cheeks that a girl of my age should wear. Being so young in a world where you are stereotypically sorted into a group of this and that, I have no place. I am the underdog, the outcast, the one with nothing.. That has everything to give. It is without a doubt that my brain capacity is much greater than any other 5 year olds. I sniffled, readying myself to act the dumb, defenceless child, this was the only act that secured me money or food for my troubles. I stepped out of the shadows, my bare feet feeling the nip of the cold ground. It was like walking on ice. I clenched my petite fists and tiptoed towards the first man that was close enough. He was an elderly man, in a long dark coat and small top hat. Old people were normally more generous. I smiled, thinking of the treat I may taste tonight. I pulled my tattered dirty sleeve over my right hand and pulled me hand to my face, hiding most of it, but allowing my eyes to stare up at the man. He noticed me and looked down, I looked up awaiting something, anything. I smiled behind my sleeve and the man smiled down at me. Please pity me. I blinked at my teary eyes as a young boy appeared from around the back of the old man. His hand was locked tightly in his and he seemed a lot like myself. I inspected him closely. His hair was wild and the darkest black I'd seen, it sounds stupid to say that black could vary in shade. I giggled as the young boy's wide eyes searched me. He tugged on the elderly mans hand and pointed gingerly towards me. He held him self weirdly. His body hunched slightly. I looked up and watched the numbers dance above his head. 

"You have a while ahead of you young sir." I said in my best English. I watched his name drift about, Law...Li... "Lawliet." I spoke aloud. I clasped my other hand over my sleeved one. I bowed down and began to run away when a feeble, but strong pair of arms caught my lithe frame. 

"Can we keep her Watari? Can we! Can we!" The little boy, Lawliet as I should call him, chimed happily to the old man. The elderly man, Watari I presumed, grumbled slightly. "Quillish!" The boy begged. Two names? I looked up expectantly at Quillish/Watari. He smiled through his grumbles. 

"Why not?" Lawliet yelled out a 'yay' and hugged me tightly. I sat awkwardly in his arms. This little boy had gained me something. If I had let this man and this boy pass me by, I would have lost out. But what on? A home? A new life? I turned in Lawliet's arms and watched at his numbers again. They jiggled around and shifted, changing. His lifespan, it had just shortened. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...