AN: What's this? A story that ISN'T a oneshot? Well we'll see how it goes. I have the idea, I have the obsession, I know how it's going to end…so hopefully I can make it through. I need to start writing since I seriously have NINE ideas for SEPARATE Matt and Mello fics written down. I usually write during class and study hall, so I'm not sure how fast all these will come out but, I ramble!
I would really appreciate feedback on this one. It's a different idea, compared to what I normally do, and I also do not write in first person very often, so I need to be sure I'm going about it right. This will be in Matt's POV and there will probably be yaoi. Not much, and not until the end, but it will be there at some point.
Disclaimer: I do not own death note (like I said, 200 episode Matt and Mello series!)
/…/…/…/
Screaming. Fighting. A sharp slap on the face and more drunken screaming. At the age of thirteen, I was used to it; but it still didn't make it any easier.
My name is Mail Jeevas, and I don't believe in happy families anymore.
All that stuff about families being there for you and caring about you? That's crap. All my family cares about is their alcohol and their gambling.
I should be used to it by now.
I retreated to my room, closing the door but not locking it. It would be much worse once my parents got to me if I had attempted to lock them out.
This had been going on my entire life. My first memory was of my mother slapping me for knocking over a cup of juice. Pleasant woman. I can't even imagine a time when my parents weren't fighting…unless it was about me. They had no qualms with pushing me around, and it seems the only thing they even agree on is that I was the biggest mistake they could have made.
School is a joke. I have terrible grades only because the material is so easy that I can't be bothered to waste my time doing the work. People at school pretty much are disgusted by me or just ignore me. You ever notice that? That people with a bad home life can't have a good social life? Nothing in their lives can be good.
I used to just play my Gameboy as an escape…until dad broke it. Now I don't have anything to distract myself with. Sighing lightly, I fall to the bed, ignoring the yelling and closing my eyes. If I stop listening to the shrieking outside my room I might be able to believe things will get better tomorrow.
/…/…/…/
It's silent when I wake up. My parents probably passed out sometime last night. Whatever. I need to grab something to eat before heading to school. After getting ready I wander into the kitchen. I open the cupboard and reach around inside until I find the last pack of pop tarts. They expired three days ago. Perfect.
Not bothering to lock the door, I head to school. It's not like anyone would bother to break in anyway. And what would there be to steal if they did? Expired pop tarts?
"Move it loser," someone says as they shove past me. I guess it should bother me, but I'm used to this too. My eyes slide to the ground and I shuffled past the boy into the school.
School was dull as usual though. The teachers glared at me as I stared out the window, but I didn't really care. All they do is talk about spelling and simple math. It's not challenging. Now I'll just walk home and listen to more fighting, and then the day will start over. Over and over and over, in an endless cycle that won't stop until I'm eighteen and can move out. Then what? I have no idea what I can do after that. With my current grades I doubt I'll be eligible for many high ranking jobs.
"Hey Mailman!"
I mentally groaned to myself and kept walking. These three boys were the worst of the lot. Subconsciously I begin walking faster, increasing my pace when I hear them call for me again.
These boys- Travis, Ken, and Riley are the worst of my school tormenters. They find the way my name is spelled hilarious, and find that chasing me down is a fun game…but really…I should be used to it.
I turn the corner and break into a sprint. I can't help it…I don't want to be used to being treated like this! I'm sick of just taking it, from them, from my parents…why do things have to end up this way? I hear the three of them chasing behind me and swerve quickly through the crowds. I'm small and skinny, which is a huge advantage at moving through people, whereas those three are large and slower. They have to push through the crowd to get to me, which is quite the advantage.
But the crowds are thinner than normal and the thugs aren't far behind. Panting, I dodge into a narrow alley and come face-to-face with a blond girl.
No, on second thought a blond boy about my age. I don't have much time to look him over because I can hear their pounding footsteps behind me, and in this alley they can really beat me down and-
The blond boy darts forward and grabs my wrist, shoving me behind a garbage can and out of sight. I wanted to protest, the others might hurt him, but before I can the bullies rushed into the alley.
I'm able to see the blond hunch over a garbage can, meekly picking out of it before I duck down more to avoid being seen.
"Hey you! Homeless trash, where did that boy go?!"
"What boy?" The blonds voice was scratchy and rough.
"The redhead! Where did he go?!" Travis didn't sound in the mood to deal with this kid.
"Oh. He ran down there." There was silence and I assumed that the boy was pointing in another direction, while hoping he wasn't just making it easier on the thugs and pointing straight to where I was hiding. Before I could entertain the thought I heard footsteps retreating away from me.
I stayed hidden for a moment. It's just common knowledge; if you jump out right away the people might suddenly come back, or be waiting for you. The blond came around to where I was crouching before I could decide to come out. "They're gone."
He seemed completely different in that moment. His eyes had darkened, in narrow slits that showed more maturity then I saw in most of my teachers' eyes. His voice had changed too, from scratchy and hoarse to cold and powerful. Instantly I could tell that this boy was not the helpless child he had acted like for those guys. "Um…" I stood slowly, shifting awkwardly once I got to my feet. The blond was intimidating after all, and his eyes rooted me to the ground. I felt like I was being sized up; I knew I wouldn't be able to handle myself in a fight with this guy. Though he was small in stature, he radiated confidence and power, a lot for a boy living on the streets. "Thank you," I finally managed.
His intense gaze didn't waver. "You owe me," he said simply. I didn't know what to say to that, so he continued. "Those guys would have taken you down easily. I want payment."
"I- I don't have money-"
"Then get some," he snarled. "Get some, or get some food. Bring it to me here tomorrow."
I nodded. Logically I knew I could lie and not show up tomorrow; it was unlikely the boy would ever see me again. But something made me want to bring him something…I almost felt a need to obey him. Sure I was grateful for him keeping those guys away from me, but there was something about him that gave me the urge to just listen to him.
The blond nodded then vanished around the corner.
Taking a quick look around to make sure Travis wasn't around, I quickly started for home. I decided I could just take the boy part of my school lunch. The parts I could save at least. A wrapped sandwich was the alternate to the main dish, and I could possibly take some of the side dishes.
I walked in the door to be greeted by a loud crash from the kitchen and the sound of shattering glass. This was the preamble to a large scale fight. I didn't care though. Today something interesting had happened. Not even my raging parents could change that.
I left swiftly the next day, not wanting to ask the blond to save me twice in two days time. It wasn't difficult to retrace my steps and I reached the alley quickly. Looking around, I slowly stepped in to see the boy already there waiting. "Well?"
"Impatient aren't we?" I grumbled. He glared but I ignored it, fumbling through my backpack for his promised meal. I produced a wrapped sandwich, an apple, and a chocolate bar. The chocolate had been the alternative to cake, easier to carry.
I could see the change in his face immediately as he snatched the chocolate bar away. He was staring at me, as if I had known he liked chocolate. He opened it slowly and took a small bite, face melting into a small smile. "Got a name kid?"
Slightly surprised at the question, it took me a moment to answer. "It's…" But I didn't want to be Mail anymore. I was ashamed of Mail, of his life, of his weakness. If I could start all over I would…maybe changing my name was a start. "…Matt," I finally said. "My name is Matt."
He gave me a knowing look. "Mello." We stood in silence for a moment. "Well I'm leaving." Mello headed down the alley, then paused, and finally stopped. "I'll be here tomorrow." It wasn't a command, just a statement, but we both knew I'd come back. "See ya." Then he was gone.
This could be the start of an interesting relationship.
/…/…/…/
AN: Writing in first person is HARD. I keep finding myself switching to third person haha. Seriously tell me what you think of first person. I may switch back to third person permanently, or I may switch back and forth. One thing I will NOT do is switch to Mello's POV. I have written it, and its fun, but it wouldn't fit well with the story I'm conveying.
This chapter feels a little weird to me, but I can't seem to FIX it. Hopefully that'll fix itself next chapter. Please review!