"What is the point of us keeping these things? They're just a waste of space! We haven't used them in decades. I don't know about you guys but I'm throwing mine-"

"NO! You cant just cast those things down like they're nothing! Those pitiful humans would never figure out what they are or what they're used for but just in case they do, we CANNOT be responsible for that! Do you have any idea what the King would do to us?! Or what they would do to their world?" Mishido grumbled aggressively under her breath. The council meeting of the Shinigami realm had just ended and no one had come to a decision on what they wanted to do with their notes. None of the Shinigami had used their notes in years and they were all very divided in their thoughts about what should happen next.

Some believed they should be kept in a safe place for emergencies only. Others believed the King should keep them and use them at his own free will. They all knew this was a safe option; not even the Shinigami King could kill one of them. There was only one way to kill a Shinigami and the King was not capable of that. The other small percentage; mainly Glius, thought they served little to no purpose any longer and they should be discarded. This was not a popular opinion because most of the Shinigami were still thinking of that rare "emergency situation" where they might be needed. However, absolutely no one thought they should ever be released into the human world. Each and every one of the Shinigami assumed that no human would ever be able to figure out the possibilities of the notes or even figure out what they were, but once again, just in case. Glius had always been the impulsive, short-tempered one of the Realm and everyone but him seemed to know it.

Glius slouched away to go play a game of solitaire and get away from the rest of the Shinigami. "Dumb humans. Dumb Shinigami. I'm not keeping this thing." As he walked past the thinnest layer of clouds, he made sure no one was looking and casually tossed his note through the clouds and watched it descend into the human realm. To be frank, he didn't care where it landed or who found it in the future.

Elizabeth sat on her back porch listening to her Walk-man after school. She has successfully fixed the broken device a week ago and now enjoyed her Mothers favourite Mix tape.

She reflected on her position. School was going well academically, but socially she was as reserved and quiet. She was just starting to get comfortable with some of her school mates to the point the stuttering had died down. But this success was mixed with her usual anxiety, especially around the boys.

She sighed, got up, and decided to take a walk. It as a warm afternoon and she though it to be best to get some fresh air instead of being cooped up in her room. Besides she had no active projects to engage herself in. She might think of something to work on while walking.

Kissing her mother and father good-buy she then walked out the door and started to walk down the lane.

{edited to fit timeline}

The bell had rang only thirty minutes prior, and Sif remained in the library. The extra study time afforded him respite from his father's drunken attitude. Though it hadn't turned violent, it was understandably unsettling. His gaze drifted up from his homework as he noticed the dark clouds settling above the town. It was probably going to rain, and that quickly became one of Sif's number one priorities.

The chair let out a loud creak as he stood, the sound echoing in the cramped library, which seemed to be empty. Sif quickly closed his books and put them into his backpack. If he didn't get home soon he would be rained on, and his nice suit would be sopping, not to mention uncomfortable. Black was the theme, with his undershirt showing under his coat to be black. His black dress pants were the same shade as the aforementioned overcoat, while the red-silver striped tie beneath it expressed a sharp contrast.

The saturated blue eyes behind Sif's bleach white hair checked the door to the hallway before he left the library. He had such a strange feeling, and it preoccupied him as he walked through the empty halls. His eyes scanned every crevice, and he even cast a glance back, but no one seemed to be nearby. Sif felt like he was being watched.

There was no way Lyra was singing.

When she'd showed interest, the president of the music club had basically begged her to join. What he hadn't realized was she didn't know how to play a single instrument. His solution had been to make her a vocalist. Before even checking whether she knew how to sing. The club must be desperate indeed if they looked to her to fill such an important role.

She slammed the door behind her, fuming. All she'd wanted was the club adviser to sign one stupid piece of paper! That simple sheet was her key to freedom - her excuse not to come home right after class had ended. She'd never intended to actually attend the music club - that was just an excuse. One that, apparently, wasn't going to work. So she had to return to her prison.

In the midst of her rage, she nearly bumped into some white haired boy who was looking around as if searching for something. Why the hell did he look ready to go to a funeral? Lyra was dressed in a knee-length skirt and a t-shirt - the school's dress code didn't require students to wear stuffy clothing like this boy was wearing.

"What, do you think your clothes make you better than everyone else?" she muttered as she pushed past the boy. She was a princess, and he was just some kid - fancy clothing would never change that!

A young woman came close to running into Sif, and he was more then a little surprised. She had somehow approached from his blind spot while he was looking around. She seemed upset with him, and muttered something along the lines of "Your clothes make you better then everyone else," and Sif immediately misunderstood what she had been implying. "Oh no, I wear this because of my father," Sif explained with a patient look about him, though admittedly a bit apprehensive.

"My father says, Sif you must wear nice clothes, bring home pretty American girl, and I say, Father it will impress no one, I will get funny looks, and he replies Nonsense! Woman love man who wear suit, ask mother," He continued, his Korean accent heavy on every word. Truthfully he understood English pretty well, but writing and reading were worlds apart for Sif; Writing in English was his forte in fact. His strange way of speaking had kept him from going to the eighth grade a couple years ago, making him older then almost everyone in his Sophomore class. He didn't recognize this particular girl, but he was bad enough at names and faces that it wasn't very surprising. Sif could've met her plenty of times and have no recollection of it.

As Sif spoke he examined the girl, and thought she looked pretty peeved. Was that his fault, or was it because of how difficult high school seemed to be? It probably wasn't Sif, so it was understandable that school was just difficult today. It could make anyone moody, even Sif. Truthfully he just hoped she didn't hate Asians, and if she didn't maybe they could be friends? He had high hopes for a guy who had a total of two friends. Sif relaxed a bit, as he didn't feel like someone was spying on him anymore. The halls were empty except for the two of them, which was a godsend in of itself. He didn't like big crowds. He already had delusions of a grand friendship between the two of them. . .

"I must go home, sorry for misunderstanding," Sif said, looking worried again. The clouds that had been approaching before were getting closer and closer. They seemed like they were just about to burst, and release a drenching shower. That seemed to be an omen. . . Or maybe Sif was just superstitious.

" Yes Steph, I'll come straight home. I have a lot of stuff to do anyway. Love you too." Odessa hung up the phone and smiled at her Aunt's concern. She sat down under her locker and ran her fingers through her hair; things were going good for her right now. She was already packed to move away, she was going to attend Humboldt University and her Dad was moving to live near her. She had very few friends at this school, just like the other school's she had attended. She was used to it by now; she had learned by now not to expect intelligence out of people. She couldn't stand all the stupidity around her on a daily basis and it was often very hard for her to even speak knowing that no one would even understand what she said half the time. As highly ranked as this school was, it surprised her that half of these people even had high enough GPA's to attend it. This was supposed to be an honors school, but more than half of these people were only here for sports reasons.

As much as she hated the people in the school, she loved the school itself. There were trees everywhere to sit under for shade, the grass was always perfect, there were hedges everywhere that were always perfectly trimmed, flowerbeds and fountains with nearby benches. The school had nearly 20 landscapers who made all of this beautiful scenery possible everyday. The whole atmosphere of the school was so peaceful. . . That is when there weren't idiots around. Sometimes, like today, Odessa would come sit out in the hallways when she didn't feel like being in the heat of the sun. It had been unusually hot that week and no one had wanted to go outside for lunch. She hoped the sun would stop throwing a temper tantrum soon. The trees needed rain and she hoped it would come soon.

Realizing that 7th period was almost over, and wanting to beat the rush of football players down the stairs to the front door, she stood up, grabbed her backpack and clicked down the hallway in her heeled boots and down the stairs. The sudden temperature change made her head a little dizzy but after a few seconds, her body got used to the uncomfortable swelter. Looking at her phone, she saw that it was 93 degrees outside. Thank god she had worn a dress today. Walking home, her Aunt texted her and said that she had a surprise for her. Odessa smiled; her Aunt always thought of her.

Lyra listened with a growing frown on her face as the boy - Sif - explained that his father made he dress the way he was dressed so he would pick up girls. "Whatever!" she said, rolling her eyes before turning away. Sif didn't matter; since Lyra no longer had a reason to stay at school, her only choice was to hurry back home. If she was late, she'd be grounded for forever, club or not.

Gloomy clouds filled the sky as she walked briskly along the pavement, veering past chatting students and ignoring some jerk who whistled at her as she passed. His type had always pissed her off - he was exactly the sort of boy her parents were afraid of. If it weren't for people like him, she might actually be allowed a little freedom even without resorting to deceiving her parents with permission slips to join clubs she had no interest in attending. She hoped he tripped and broke his nose on his way home!

By the time she turned the corner onto the street she lived on, Abby had already come up with four other clubs she could try to join the next day. Immersed in her thoughts, she walked straight into her big brother, Jason.

"Watch it, kiddo," he said with an easy smile as he grabbed her by the arms, preventing a collision. "If I hadn't been keeping my eyes open, you might have tripped over my spare." He gestured toward the driveway, where a tire rested parallel to the pavement. Jason had been obsessed with his car ever since he got one for his 17th birthday. Lyra's other brothers had received vehicles of their own on their birthdays, but Lyra would never have any such luck - her parents didn't trust her to take care of herself.

"Just go away," she said sullenly, pushing past Jason and entering the house. Living with these people was gonna drive her insane!

Roseburg Conservatory High School, Roseburg Oregon

Sif did a pretty good job ignoring the girl's pointed tone, though it wasn't on purpose, and left the school building. He adjusted his cuffs as he walked out the front door, glancing at the sky apprehensively, again. Sif was definitely paranoid about the weather, and it was easy to spot. If those clouds burst he'd have to run home, but if he ran now with the oppressive heat he was currently being subjected to he would surely stain the suit with sweat. He dragged his eyes away from the sky and scanned the people around him, quickly making mental assessments and categorizing them. The categories were simple, mostly checking their expressions when they looked at him. If their distaste of him was obvious he dropped the gaze, and avoided their eyes from then on.

Sif didn't take the glances he got personally, he just took them as a fact of life. People were hesitant about oriental heritage, as the many wars the US had had against Asian countries made clear. He didn't get offended, though he did resent how people disliked him for something that was out of his control. His eyes were again drawn to the impending clouds as he mindlessly walked along the bustling street towards home. A soft gold shade lanced through the clouds at breaks between them, but where there were no breaks was a brooding darkness. Silver lined a lot of the clouds, and he smiled at his earlier misgivings of the clouds. They didn't form a big enough expanse to cause a downpour as far as he could tell.

A warm breeze brushed past Sif, stirring his coat a bit. He smiled a bit at the weather and strode down the block a bit happier now. He wouldn't have to worry about ruining the suit with the rain. He grew more apprehensive as he got closer to his home, knowing he might be chastised for no reason other then his father being drunk and wanting an excuse to be mad at him. It was how things went, when there was nobody to comfort a grieving parent except liquor.

Elizabeth looked up at the sky with a frown. What was once sun had now turned itself into the threat of rain. Walking down the popular forest path, Liz though of what to do, Running home was a good option, but a waste of time if the shower was to be brief (and that is how it was looking). Some suitable shelter would simply be needed.

Liz knew there where some old WW2 bunkers near the path where she could stand under while the rain fell. She made her way to them, hoping they where unoccupied.

"Anthony let me get inside the house please. I haven't even gotten in the door and you're all over me. I'm interested in what you want to show me but could you wait ten minutes please?" Oddessa laughed tiredly as she walked up the stairs to the door. Anthony had seen her through the window and came rushing out, eager to show her something. She loved her cousin but sometimes he was so hyper, she didn't know what to do with him. She walked straight down the hallway that led to her room and tossed her backpack on her bed and sighed as it bounced off and landed on the floor with a thump. Anthony had followed her all the way to her room and was waiting for her to turn around and pay attention to him. He's not gonna leave until I pay attention to him so. . . Might as well do it now. she thought as she turned around and asked "What did you wanna show me?" Being the 12 year old he was, all he had wanted to show her was a new trick he had learned on his scooter. He gestured for her to watch outside her window and ran down the front steps in a frenzy.

Oddessa tuned out after he had left her room and sat on her bed. Looking at her watch, she realized that it was almost time for her nightly walk. She walked every night to keep her anxiety down and have some alone time. She wasn't sure about the weather but she had walked in worse conditions. She grabbed her parka, gloves and rain boots and started off down the hallway. Just then, her Aunt came crashing through the door with a whole bunch of bags from the grocery store. "Here Steph, let me help." she said as she took three bags out of Stephanie's hands. As Stephanie set her purse down on the dining room table, Oddessa buttoned her jacket and said "I'm going for my walk. I'll be back in about an hour. Call me if you need anything. I might stop by the convenience store." Stephanie nodded her head in Oddessa's direction as permission for her to take off. She turned and stepped down from the rather elevated concrete slab.

As she walked down the residential street and turned onto main, she realized that there was nobody else out on the street. It was still fairly early and she expected there to be younger teenagers out with their friends on their scooters. Who knew twelve year olds went home before 7 o' clock? She was almost to the 7/11 convenience store when she heard the sound of papers rustling in the wind. She looked around on the ground behind her and saw nothing rolling around so she kept walking. She didn't take more than three steps before she heard it again, this time a little louder. This time, she decided to look up. She was standing under the biggest tree in town and it was hard to see through all it's puffy leaves but she did see something that looked like the corner of a notebook stuck between two branches. Curious, she picked up a rock and hurled it at the corner of the notebook. It collided perfectly and the book fell to the ground at Oddessa's feet. Looking as best she could through the dark, she saw written on the front cover "DEATH NOTE." "Well that's a little creepy. . ." She picked it up and carried it with her as she walked in the door of the convenience store. Under her arm, she almost felt as if she was in danger.

Sif's home, Roseburg Oregon

Sif's eyes latched onto his house as he rounded the busy street corner. The warm breeze was still blowing, and it rustled his clothes enough to make him seem unkempt. Ignoring the state of his clothes, the white haired boy strode on, his home growing ever closer. He reached the front door of the laundromat, and opened it quickly. A small bell sounded, and echoed. Seth strode through the building, and past the almost entirely vacant store. Business was less then good. A young girl who could've been Sif's sister (if she was also Korean) sat behind the counter, not bothering to glance up as he walked past, nor even greeting him. He was used to it though, and the idea that she could've been more polite didn't cross Sif's mind as climbed the stairs at the back of the building, and crossed the hallway towards his room.

As Sif sat down on his bed, he smiled a bit. The lack of general noise most likely signified that his father wasn't home for one reason or another. He would at least have some respite to do his homework during, which he quickly took advantage of. Sif took off his backpack, and shuffled through it, pulling out a decrepit Math textbook, before placing it on his bed. As he did, he noticed a black bound notebook hanging from his window sill, perched precariously. It caught and kept his eye trained on it, before a wind gust broke his spell.

His feet supported his thin frame as Sif walked over to the window sill, before he slowly raised the sash with his trembling hand. As soon as the window was raised far enough to allow his hand to slip underneath, he did so. Something about this book was entrancing, without even looking at all of it. Sif turned it over in his hand, scanning the covers. The book's title was written on the standard side, for Americans. That is to say it was meant to be read from left to right, which Sif had grown accustomed to. Death Note it read, the title written in an odd yet extravagant style. Slight imperfections seemed to imply it had been handwritten by someone. . . Or in this case something. Sif slowly opened the book to the first page, and devoured the information.



Is. . . Is this a ruse? Did someone make this as a joke? A prank, a prank to see how messed up I am? To think I'd ever use this. . . But what if. . . What if it works? Sif's breath caught in his throat at the thought. That was what he was thinking, but how could he possibly think that. He had no right to choose who lived or who died. Then again why did he have an obligation to restrain himself? If someone found out, if it worked, and worked well. . . What to do? He could save the world. He could change the world. He could even destroy the world. The power was in his hands, and was it not his responsibility to use that power? Did the world need saving? He couldn't get rid of it, but. . . Could he use it?

Sif could cause genocides, or miracles, and he tried to fathom which was more terrifying. He shuffled over to his bag, and placed the book into the front pocket of his backpack. Before he did anything rash, he wanted to think this through. Turning his attention away for the moment, he opened his textbook and began his homework, using the thick yet frail book as a surface to write on.

The bunker was cold, yet much dryer than the shower taking place outside. Elizabeth looked down the deprecated stairwell with a frown. She did not enjoy the dark and damp of underground, with the creepy crawlies. Then she heard a noise. The sound of several sound men laughing and yelling, coming her way. They must be coming to the bunker for shelter, or some kind of nefarious means. She did not want to know who it was or what they where up to, especially alone. The darkness seemed more preferable than dealing with who ever was coming.

Taking a flashlight from her bag she started stepping down into the dark. She reached the bottom and scanned the room with light. Occult symbols, Ruse slurs, phone numbers, and some highly inappropriate drawings covered the walls, on the far side was an open doorway. Something called to her.

She did not know what it was. She could not hear it, but it spoke to her. She could not see it, but she knew it vague image. She walked through the door and down another flight of steps. She herd voices behind her. Sound of men talking, teasing to whom would go down the stairwell. She continued on, spellbound....

She woke up from her haze, she looked around. She was in a strange room, She could not hear any noise except dripping water. She panned her flashlight around and froze. The skull was looking right at her. A human skull, its body laid out, its hand over its chest. After a few moments she moved the light, another, then another. Five in all. All laying as if in agony. Elizabeth started to hyper ventilate, swinging the light around again and then stopped.

The book laid on a makeshift stone alter. On one side of it was a silver cup, and on the other a long burned out candle. The book itself was pitch black, with an ominous yet unidentifiable symbol on the front cover. She picked it up slowly and leafed through its pages. Its slightly blood-red pages where empty, except the last pages of the book. There written in fine white text upon back thick paper was a long multi page list. Or at least Elizabeth though it as a list. Its letters where strange and twisted, unreadable to her.

She felt something behind her. Swinging and shining her light, nothing, just an empty doorway. She suddenly realised she might be lost. She walked to the door way and looked out. Nothing but a long and dark hallway with branching doors and halls. She was lost. Was she going to die? She started to panic when she saw a flowing robe move at the end of the hall. Instead of terror, she felt comforted and followed it. Weaving through the maze-like bunker she followed the robe, always just around the next corner. Soon she was at the stairwell, sunlight could be seen far up. She caustically made her way up, slipping the book into her bag.

The outer bunker was empty, the boys where gone but the smell of cannabis was in the air. She looked down the bunker one last time and quickly ran home over the wet ground.

Lyra laid on her bed, kicking her feet in the air as she read the horror story she'd borrowed from the time library. She didn't know why she bothered. None of her recent reads had actually been scary - in fact, they were downright predictable. With a yawn, she flipped to the back of the book and found her suspicion confirmed - the killer wasn't the creepy, shy boy, who was clearly the red herring, but the star player of the football team. Could the author have been more obvious?

She threw the book aside and rolled to her feet, stretching out her legs. Though it was barely 6:00 PM, she was already wearing her nightgown - it wasn't like she was gonna leave her prison and sanctuary either way. Even her brothers had stopped teasing her about her strange behavior months ago - apparently, they preferred to focus on her latest insecurities. Like the romance novel she dared borrow from the library a few weeks ago.

Lyra sighed, throwing herself onto her desk chair. She'd finished her homework within an hour of returning home - it had been super easy, as usual. Unfortunately, she didn't have anything fun to look forward to afterward. Even her lousy book had been worthless.

"Hey, Lyra!" called Jason, knocking on her door. "You dropped one of your library books outside earlier. Lucky for you, mom and dad didn't see it. They're still bitter about the one they had to pay for after you drenched it in the tub.

"Just leave it!" yelled Lyra irritably, cheeks blazing. Princesses were not supposed to be made fun of like this!

After listening to Jason's retreating footsteps, Lyra tiptoed to the door and cracked it open. She didn't recognize the little black book she found lying on the floor, but she scooped it up anyway. It was entitled 'Death Note'. Maybe it was overdue?

The mystery deepened when Lyra flipped through the pages and found them all blank. Was this just some pseudo-creepy notebook? Just before she could throw it aside, she glimpsed the text written on the inside of the cover.

The Death Note... was a tool to murder people?

Lyra snorted, shaking her head. As if anyone would fall for such a stupid prank! On a whim, she wrote the name of the boy who rejected her from the music club on the first page. It was all too easy to picture his ugly face! When she returned to school the next day and found that jerk alive and well, the Death Note's alleged power would be debunked. Just another idiot's dull attempt at horror!

She threw herself back onto her bed, willing herself to fall asleep. Within seconds, the Death Note was all but forgotten.

The school was eerily quiet as Odessa climbed the stairs to the second floor where her first period music class was held. This hallway was normally filled with students who were yelling about the recent party that the cops busted, their last winning game or complaining about their significant other. But today, it was so quiet you could faintly hear the music coming from the quiet girl in the corner’s headphones. Everyone was whispering suspiciously and didn’t look up when Odessa walked by. Some groups leaned against lockers while others hid in the corners where perpendicular walls met.

As she turned the corner by the music hall, she was surprised to see that the door was closed and locked, the lights were off and all her classmates were standing outside the door looking extremely downtrodden. As she pushed her way through the crowd, she saw something that shook her to the very core; there on the ground right in front of the door, was the music club adviser. Dead. Odessa stepped away from the door, trying not to let herself sink into a panic attack but finding extreme difficulty regulating her breathing. She tossed her backpack against the opposite wall and ran to the bathroom. What was administration going to do about THIS? A teacher dies on their premises and they just lock the door and turn the lights off? Maybe they didn’t know yet? No. Odessa thought. The janitorial staff were here every morning at 6 o’clock, sometimes even earlier than that! They must have been the ones who found him. Did they tell anyone?

Flinging open the bathroom door, Odessa sank to the tiled ground in complete defeat and sadness. Music was the only thing she had and now it was gone. Her club advisory had been the only one who was determined to keep music alive in the school because no one else really cared. She couldn’t believe this and none of it made sense to her. How does someone just DIE right in their own classroom? Odessa decided she wasn’t going to attend her first couple classes. The teachers WOULD come looking for her so she had to leave the bathroom soon. After her tears stopped flowing so heavily, she walked back out into the hallway quietly. The bell had already rung and everyone that once populated the hallways were now in their first period class; except the music students. She imagined they had all been called to one of the offices and were being explained the situation and what was going to be done about it. Swooping up her backpack, she decided to go out the back doors of the second floor and go down the stairs to her favorite tree. She planted herself on the bench underneath the weeping willow tree and dug her tape player out of her bag. As she reached to the bottom, she caught a glimpse of the strange notebook she had ruptured from the tree near her house the night before. There was something ominous about it and she zipped her backpack shut quickly, wanting to get rid of the feeling.

Roseburg Conservatory High School, Roseburg Oregon

Morning light filtered through Sif's window, the tinted glow shading his room a dark yellow. He rose unsteadily from the dim haze of sleep, his various papers and books scattered across his bed. He blinked in surprise at that, not used to falling asleep at the drop of a hat like that. His memory of before he fell asleep was hazy, but he didn't remember being tired. It was like a sudden scene change in a play that forced you alert and didn't quite make sense. Sif sighed a bit, and stuffed his book and papers into his backpack, and quickly went to take a shower. He exited the shower a few minutes later, and put on a gray dress suit, with a white undershirt and gray dress pants. His closet was absolutely filled with similar looking suits. The book he had discovered reentered his thoughts abruptly, and a small bit of panic filled him as he looked for it. A quick search of his room proved it wasn't in the room. Did I imagine the book? It seemed so real, I couldn't have. But I did, didn't I?

A soft breath of air left his lips as he conceded the books existence, and he walked over to his closet. He grabbed a light blue tie off of the pile of ties, and began to slip it on while he walked down stairs. His father was still absent, and a different woman was at the counter of the laundromat, this one a little older. Still she ignored him, and Sif reciprocated by not even bothering to glance at her. He walked out the front door, and began to walk towards the school. The air was a piercing cold, just moist enough to make him shiver. It stabbed through his clothes, and pricked his skin, raising goosebumps within seconds. Sif shivered, but walked fast to reach the school sooner rather then later. He entered the school, and smiled at the warm air the school provided; it was a nice respite from the cool outside. As he walked towards his class, the tension the air was palatable, being generated by every student he walked past. It felt like someone had decided that awkward silence was a good mood for the school, though he could not figure out why.

Sif's question was even further obscured when a young girl ran past him seeming to come from the band room, her eyes tearing up. Sif glanced back as she ran past him, and watched her head towards the bathroom. The soft whine of sirens in the distance were quickly ignored as Sif walked with new found purpose towards the band room. A crowd of students gathered about the door, a few casting nervous glances inside. Sif seemed indifferent to the scene, mostly cause band was his first period class. He sat down next to the door, a bit far away from the crowd of students. The sirens that were once distant were clearly growing closer, and Sif didn't even notice as he finished his homework in silence.

Death was now a strange concept to Elizabeth. Before she was distraught by the idea of death, one existing then not. But today she was calm, and that calmness made her feel strange. Almost as through she should be upset by the sudden passing of her music teacher. She was looking forward to her music class this afternoon, but now he was dead and classes tentative to be cancelled. He was found dead in his classroom by the janitorial class, police and the coroner called to make the passing official.

Elizabeth sat at the back of her class by the window as the teacher broke news to the class and the students made their grief and sadness known. Feeling that strange calm she looked out the window and saw a brown haired girl walk up to a lone willow tree that sat in the middle of the schools side yard and sit. Elizabeth recognised the girl as a senior, Oddessa was her name? She was crying, then reached in her bag and pulled out a tape player.

Something was strange though, Oddessa jerked while rooting though the bag, Elizabeth felt something radiating from the bag. A feeling, a very familiar feeling. That feeling faded the moment Oddessa zipped the bag closed. A small smile came across Elizabeth’s face if only for an instant. No one saw, few rarely took notice of her.

Dead. He was really dead. The Death Note... it was real.

Lyra scuttled away from the music room along with a group of girls with faces drained of blood. As she pushed past gossiping students, making way for the algebra classroom, Lyra felt bile rising in her throat. The music teacher was dead... and that was only because she had written his name in that notebook. Did that make her a murderer? Cold sweat ran down her cheeks as she took her seat, fighting to maintain a mask of calmness. The police were being notified - would they be looking for her? Her house was prison enough - she couldn't live in a little cell, shut away in the darkness forever. The Death Note was sitting on the floor of her room, among a bunch of library books. She couldn't run to get it now - that would look far too suspicious. But, when she got home, she would go to it. She would write her own name if she had to. Better dead than locked away.

She released a deep breath, and only then did she realize she'd been crying. But that reaction had been silly. The police would be investigating natural causes of death - not looking for weird notebooks with supernatural powers. Though she'd had a disagreement with the victim the day of his death, she had a solid alibi. Her brothers and parents would vouch for her.

But still... what if someone figured it out? It would be best to have the notebook with her all the time, just in case. She didn't want to kill again, but if they forced her to, she would. The dead teacher's life already weighed heavily on her conscience, but if it was to save herself... yes, she could do it again. But she couldn't carry around the whole Death Note with her. That black cover and the instructions written within... they were way too obvious. But... what if she tore out a page? Would it still work? There was only one way to find out. But could she kill again just to learn?

She bit her lip as the teacher began his lesson. Absently, she scrawled a few of the symbols into her normal notebook. Yes... if it was to guarantee her freedom, Lyra could stomach one more use of the notebook. She was a princess - more important than anyone else. For her, sacrifices could be made. They were justified!

Micheal was walking around the school mostly trying to find trouble looking for anyone or anything to break,While walking down the hallway tripping a stereotype nerd over onto his face breaking his glasses."Watch where ya goin nerd" Micheal sneered walking pasted him and towards the cafe.He got into the front of the line even though their was a line already looking up at the lunch lady,"Hi miss how ya doin today?I'd like some pizza please" He said with his nicest tone of voice."Like hell ya are..last time you asked for pizza ya shoved it down a student's pants" The lunch lady said shaking her head as a younger student asked him if he could go.

"Tsk fine i don't need your shitty food anyway" Micheal said pushing the younger student who asked onto the ground.Making his way though the side door of the cafe and to his locker.He was going to head into his locker but he saw Mr.Edwards the math teacher that was always busying his balls,This was of course a bad day for him since he had some pot and a swichblade on him so he had to duck and hide somewhere.Looking around he hide into the nearest door and got into the janitor's closet hearing out for Mr.Edward to pass the door.

He could hear the heavy footsteps and panting of the teacher letting out a deep breath and accidentally tripping over the mop bucket and landing on his ass."Damn it" He cursed in a hushed mutter not wanting others to see him like this.Quickly getting up he could see something near his foot,"What the is this?" He asked himself picking up the object lighting his lighter so he could see what it was. In the bright light he could see it was a black note book with something written on the front,"DEATH NOTE" The words on the front where visible and Micheal didn't know who put it here maybe a nerd or the crazy janitor.

"Tsk dumb ass wetback janitor" The young man grunted out heading out of the janitor's closet hiding the notebook in his leather jacket and heading towards his locker.

Coming back in the same side door she came out of, she entered the school building with her tape player still playing her favorite Madonna song. There was no one in the hallway that she could see but she could vaguely hear a commotion going on around the corner of the hall. She took her headphones off and walked a little faster around the corner. She saw a freshman lying on the ground picking up pieces of his glasses that were now broken as a result of his fall. Looking further down the hallway, she saw a wanna-be bad ass new kid shove something in his jacket pocket and walk away.

Assuming this was another one of those "I'm a jock, I'm better than you and get out of my way situations", Odessa stood up and yelled after the boy as he stopped at his locker. She couldn't stand bullying. If this kid thought he could just come into this school and shove anyone around whenever he wanted to, he was sadly mistaken. " Hey! Who the hell are you and what's with your twisted ego buddy?" As Odessa got closer to him, she started to be able to tell exactly what kind of kid he was. She hated these kind of people; kids like him were the reason millions of other teenagers and adolescents commit suicide every year and she wasn't about to let this kid get away with that. His fake ass leather jacket, torn jeans and greasy brown hair told her everything she needed to know and she knew she hated this kid already.

@Alina13

"What?Ah another person hassling me...piss off lesbo" Micheal retorted getting some fire crackers that he was going to use them to light and throw at other students.He turned his back trying to ignore the girl talking to him he had better things to do then to being yelled at by someone especially another student.

Seeing a incoming jock coming his way he smacked his elbow into the jock,"Watch where ya going spaz..." The jock said with Micheal responding by slamming the jock's head into the locker a few times kicking him in the stomach for good measure as he walked away.Now he was very angry for almost getting caught and being made fun of by a Jock which he hated.

"I hate this place...and you bastards...ya'll will pay" Micheal whispered to himself as he made his way outside to have a smoke.