Why Plot Bunnies Should Go and Jump off a Bridge

By: KitKat411

Author's Notes: HOLA, YA'LL! Haha. I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. I wrote this story on the plane to Florida…so…LIKE IT. Haha. Spoilers for what I think Mello's real name is…although, it's probably wrong. OC, but a minor one. I didn't think "Death Note" went deep enough into the backgrounds of Mello, Near, L, etc., so I like writing it. I especially like writing about Mello-pre leather pants, Mafia, and attitude, anyway.

Anyway, like it or else-just kidding-and expect an update on "To Catch a Killer" on Monday/Sunday. I'm trying to lengthen it.

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Prompt Fifty-Two: Fire

"Oh, Micheel, your hair is just so pretty." The speaker, a woman in her late thirties, tousled Micheel's hair affectionately. "It's so wild."

Micheel crosses his arms in front of his chest. He was five years old, possessed above average intellect, and did not appreciate being petted. "Aunt Hannah," he said grumpily, "I am not a dog."

Hannah Cassat pulled her hands away from her nephew. She stared at the small child before her. He wore an ironed shirt and jeans, shiny black shoes, and a fierce scowl.

"No, Micheel," she told him, laughing slightly, "No, you are not a dog. I suppose I'm just happy to see my favorite nephew." She took his hand and stepped into the large mansion before her. "And now that you've greeted me, may I have the pleasure of saying hello to my brother?"

"Father is in his study." Micheel said, slightly irked that Aunt Hannah wanted to talk to other people. "Mother is upstairs."

"All right, then. I'll head on over to the study and say a quick hello. Why don't you go and check on your mother, Micheel? I'm sure she'd like to see a smiling face." Hannah stopped talking and looked at the boy below her. "Or, you know, whatever face you happen to have on you." She left, leaving Micheel in the grand entranceway alone.

And so, with no one to talk to and nothing to complain about, Micheel finally went to say hello to his mother. His mother was in bed, where she had been for several weeks now. Micheel didn't know exactly what was going on, but heard words such as "anti-depressants," "suicide watch," and "going through severe mental pain" used in reference to his mother.

It probably has to do with Father's "friends," Annabelle, Lakiesha, and Kandi, Micheel considered. About a month ago, his mother found hotel tabs, bar flyers, and a stack of lingerie receipts. She had yelled at Father for a long time after that, Micheel remembered.

Yes, that was when she had started to not leave the bedroom. After that big fight.

Micheel reached the door to his mother's room. He opened the door and looked around. The shades were drawn and the light was turned off, giving the room an eerie glow. Micheel, however, ignored the scary vibe and walked over to the small lump in the bed. He sat on the corner of the bed and patted the lump. "Hello, Mother," he told it.

The lump unfurled itself slowly. A woman with blonde hair and green eyes emerged and stared at Micheel. The woman had once been very beautiful, but her once full hair was not flat and dry and her eyes, once filled with life, were now limpid and sunken in. Her face, however, visibly brightened at the sight of her son.

"Micheel!" She cried happily. "How nice to see you."

Micheel hated seeing his mother like this and he hated his father for making her like this. Still, Micheel hid his anger, frustration, and sadness. "I'm doing great, Mother," he told her instead, "really, really, great."

Micheel's mother smiled and ruffled Micheel's hair. Micheel tensed, hating the feeling, but said nothing.

"Your hair is so lovely, Micheel," she told him. "It reminds me of fire."

Micheel nodded. His mother had told him this often.

Mrs. Keehl patted her son's hair for another few minutes, smiling faintly. "Yes…fire." She fell asleep soon after, still mumbling about fire.

……………

It was a few nights later when Micheel awoke sharply. It was two-thirty in the morning and the five-year-old was confused as to why he was awake. This issue was resolved a few moments later, however, as Micheel heard the fire alarm blaring loudly.

Micheel forgot about everything in an instant. He ran out of his room, down the stairs, and outside, ignoring the engulfing smoke, the shrill alarm, and the raging inferno behind him. He concentrated solely in leaving the house behind him and emerged a few seconds later.

After regaining his breath, Micheel turned to stare behind him. He watched, immobilized, as the fire destroyed his house, his entire existence, and his parent's still-sleeping forms.

……………

It had been one week since the fire and four days since the double funeral of Mr. and Mrs. Keehl. Micheel was not seated in a taxi, staring out the window at the rainy sky outside. His Aunt Hannah sat to his left, dressed in black and fiddling with her purse. She stared out the window also, ignoring the long silence.

As Micheel watched, the taxi pulled up in front of a large, elegant, and extremely old building. "Micheel?" Hannah said softly. "Micheel, we're here. This is Wammy's House."

Micheel let Aunt Hannah lead him outside of the taxi and into the foyer of the building. He said nothing as Hannah spoke with an old man.

"So, Micheel, what do you pick?"

Micheel looked up. "What?"

Aunt Hannah looked at him. "Here at Wammy's House, none of the children use their real names. Instead, the children pick code names. This man," she pointed at the old man, "told me about it. So, which name do you want?"

Micheel rubbed his hair and thought. As he rubbed his hair, however, he remembered his mother:

"Your hair reminds me of fire, Micheel."

Fire. His hair reminded his mother of the very thing that eventually killed her. How ironic.

So, no, he decided, he was going to pick a name that was as far away from fire as possible. But how? What was fire? Fire was wild, unpredictable, deadly. Fire wasn't…fire wasn't…

"Mellow," he said finally. Yes, that would do nicely. No, fire was not calm. It was not mellow at all.

The old man nodded. "Mello, then." He stuck out his hand to the young child.

"Welcome to Wammy's House, Mello."