Notebooks don't fall from the sky, not usually anyways.
Oggetto
| i'm sorry but your story isn't adding up |
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Late November skies, blue and clear, the air is crisp with the smell of snow.
She craves ramen for no other reason than the pretty advertisement she saw on TV this morning, fuming hot liquid and thick soft noddles, a bit of pork, a side of crispy dumplings if she feels like it.
And then a notebook smacks her right in the face.
She pauses for a second, watches as the notebook falls on the floor. Notebooks don't fall from the sky, not usually anyways. It's odd and her eyes narrow as she stares upwards. She's near a school, a private one. It looks posh enough, well-kept lawns and no clutter, a sound architecture.
She thinks maybe somebody threw it by the window, not expecting anyone to be caught in the fire, just disgusted by the notes and sheer amount of work. Or maybe they did throw it on purpose, a prank of some sort.
She rolls her eyes, thinks that students should really find something else to entertain themselves than throwing notebooks on unsuspecting by-passers. And then realizes that maybe she really wasn't any better when she herself was a student.
She doesn't pick up and walks over it, heels clacking on the ground.
Late November skies, the air smells like snow. There's a ramen bowl screaming out her name, she has better things to do than spend time gaping at a notebook that fell from the sky. She really does.
.
Later that night, she is visited by a hallucination – an inhuman grin, sharp teeth, decaying flesh, dark and gray.
It's something she ate, probably. The ramen was delicious, warm and she took the dumplings in a take-out container for a late night snack. She's comfortable in her pyjamas, fabric soft on her skin, seated on her couch, a movie in the background.
"Mind if I steal an apple?" It asks, the hallucination speaks. Yes, definitely something she ate, poison maybe. She tenses up for a second and then relaxes.
"I think the point of stealing is not asking for permission." She tells her hallucination. It barks out a laugh, demented, distorted.
There's a basket of apple on the counter of her kitchen, red, luscious fruits her mother picked out for her. She eyes the hallucination as bony wings spread out, carrying it to the kitchen. Thin fingers reach out, stabbing sharp nails in the glossy fruit.
She turns her attention back on the movie and doesn't shudder, not even when the air turns cold as the hallucination flies back towards her, levitating near the couch, never quite touching anything.
"What are we watching?" It asks her, apple still stabbed through its fingers.
"I can start it again." She tells the hallucination, hand on the remote. It rewards her with a grin.
"Humans are interesting creatures."
She takes that as a yes and rewinds, static on her screen as the movie moves backwards to the start.
a/n: And a new story starts. If L has an OC, I suppose Light deserves one too. It's meant to be therapeutic for me, a bit on the dark humorous side. If any of you are interested, I'll update faster because of the short word count. If you read this, I hope you enjoyed enough to leave a thought. Thank you for reading.