The Hardest Puzzle || Death Note

3-Apologize

Chapter Three * Apologize -

You were frozen. Fear was in every cell in your body. Fear was taking over you. It was a monster.

You were about to be devoured.

You started to shake as he reached for the button of your jeans.

Once he touched it, though, you stiffened, as if electrified.

"No!" you gasped, and shot up.

You raced for the door and scrabbled to open it.

Once in the hall you raced to another place of safety. Your room had been taken control of; you didn't dare try to leave.

It was a place your mother refused to go. She hated bugs and dust and darkness with a passion.

Your father couldn't physically get there. He was too bing to get through the door. On the days he violated you you'd often go there to sit and cry.

You reached the end of the hall, and turned.

There it was. A small door, about half the size of a regular one.

You hurried to open it, and started crawling through the dusty passage.

Suddenly a hand caught your foot.

"No-no!" you moaned, looking back and seeing your father. You could even see your mom not far behind.

You yanked your foot towards you fruitlessly.

Mercilessly he dragged you towards him.

You waited until you were close enough to him, then jerked the foot he was holding and kicked him in the face.

He let go, growling, and you hurriedly crawled through the passage.

It wasn't too long, but it was just long enough to where you were out of their reach. It opened up into a small opening that was a little wider than the passage's width. It also had a window.

"I have a light," your mom said in a hard, determined voice. "Do it! Take care of her now!"

She shone it in the passage.

You looked out the window. You could see your neighbor in her front yard, watering her flowers.

You pounded on the window, but she was old and almost deaf, so she couldn't hear you.

The first gunshot rang out.

You felt it go by your shoulder and embed in the side of your house.

You whirled to look at your parents, then quickly turned and began beating on the window with renewed strength.

At last the window broke, shards of glass embedding in your palm.

You cried out in relief and in pain, and peered out.

"Help!" you screamed hoarsely. "Someone, anyone, help!"

Your neighbor looked up, startled.

You stared down at her frantically. "Help!" you shouted down to her. "Please!"

Another shot rang out, this one much closer to you than before.

Your neighbor stared at you with wide eyes, then hurried inside.

"N-no," you gasped.

Your only hope was gone.

You turned and fearfully looked at your parents.

Apparently there had only been two bullets in the gun, and your father was in his bedroom reloading it. But your mother still stared at you and taunted you.

"So," she said harshly. She grinned sadistically at you. "What now? You're not going to make us mad anymore. You're not going to be a naughty girl anymore. You're a bad, bad person, so we're going to make the world a better place without you."

Bad?

You wanted to scream at her, scream that she was the bad person. But you couldn't. You wouldn't. It would only make her madder. And anyways, she was your mother. She had known you more than you yourself had, so she couldn't possibly be wrong, right?

You shuddered at the reality of it all.

Yeah, you weren't a model of perfection, but why...Why did they feel the need to kill you?

It just didn't make any sense.