Categories > Anime/Manga > Death Note > Blank Space
Blank Space
0 reviewsAnastasia Rabenda is a mass murderer of the wicked. She harbors secrets from her past, but is just an average girl until Truly, a Shinigami's Death Note is thrown into the human world, about a mont...
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Death was what surrounded them. Fear is what she felt. It was a complete dystopia. They usually just sat there, gambling away what they didn’t have. They surrounded her, laughed, consumed her, Truly didn’t know what to do. Ah, she was a Shinigami, and sure, if these were humans or any other lower rank creature, she’d be able to, excuse her language, kick ass. But they were other Shinigami. Ones bigger than her, stronger. Being what she was, she shouldn’t feel fear, what could they do to her? But she knew all too well there were punishments worse than death in the Shinigami world. Her Death Note was being tossed carelessly, as if it didn’t hold the weight of the world in the palm of its hand. The balance of human lives was in that very notebook, they tossed it once more, then they lost it in the glare of the ever dim light. And that’s when it left. No one saw how it left the Shinigami realm, and no one saw when it entered the human realm. But it did, and it landed right on the roof of the Rabenda rooftop.
Anastasia sat, curling a finger through her wavy chocolate hair. The words were dull to her, distant as always. Nonfiction books, as informative as they were to, just dragged to her. So she didn’t bother to read along with them, much less annotate as all her other classmates had been vigorously doing. Some ignored the lesson like she did, but the rest were suck ups, in her opinion. It was her writing that kept her afloat in this class, she didn’t do much of the homework. She had bigger aspirations than to peak in high school. Most of her teachers liked to think she wouldn’t go anywhere. She knew better. She walked home, the streets were busy, packed to say the least. But it was always this way in Japan and she had grown use to the oblivious hordes of people that never knew how to properly walk. She grew slightly irritated at the slow moving throngs, but did not speak up. It would not be fair to take out her anger on some innocent bystander. The tv blared the newscast. Breaking News, another body found, now officially a serial murderer case. A small shiver went down her back at that word. Serial murder. She remembered her mother’s brown eyes, so sad with blue skies when they found the mangled corpse of their family dog, Thorn. At first they thought it was just an awful accident, their dog loved to play outside. They assumed a wolf had gotten it or something, just an awful turn of events. She had been heartbroken. She luckily hadn’t been the one to find him, but she always loved that dog. He watched over her when she slept and cuddled her. But when they returned home from a visit to their grandparents to find their mother brutally slaughtered The blood was everywhere, staining carpets, curtains, memories. She shook her head like a wet dog drying itself would. The past had no place in the present. She closed her eyes, and turned the rusted gold key into its rightful place. She entered her house, to find it empty besides her purring amber cat, looking up at her with chartreuse eyes. She gives her a reassuring pet then walks to the cluttered fridge. At first she ignored the notes and papers that was the chaos of the fridge, grabbed an apple and bit into it. Juice ran down her chin as she chewed it with careful thought. She then read the note with her daily tasks on it, as her dad was at work. There was a single scribble. Please clean the gutters. She sighs; this was one of her least favorite tasks, but I was ordered, so what could she do? She walked to her room, which was painted a deep lilac, then quickly changed into more suitable attire for the task. After all, a skirt would not be appropriate for climbing a ladder. She wouldn’t want all of the neighborhood to see her underwear, after all. She was a practical woman. The weather in Japan was pleasant today, wind ruffled her hair and sun broke through puffy clouds. Children were playing across the street. Their distant laughter was drowned out as she climbed the sturdy silver ladder. She sighed at the familiar feeling of getting leaves and dirt under her long nails. She moved along, cleaning and removing the gunk from her family homes gutters until she stumbled upon it. And that was the moment everything changed. Everyone’s fate from that moment was sealed. Life was not as it seemed.
When she picked up the Death Note she initially thought it had been from some sort of prank shop. The neighborhood kids and her brothers played a lot in their yard, it must have gotten thrown up here by accident. Truly watched from a distance. She knew it had not touched the ground of Earth. It was not yet certain that she would be bound to this girl. But it seemed to happen in slow motion as she tossed the notebook over her shoulder. It hit the ground softly, and from that moment on Truly could not leave the Earth, for long anyways. That night, she sat in her room, dawdling as usual when she first saw her. She would have screamed but her voice caught in her throat. Then she came to her senses.
“Very funny. Chris, Marco where did you get that thing.”
“Yes, very fucking funny, sweetie.” Growled the raspy voice of Truly. The look on Anastasia’s face was hilarious, she wished she could inflict this type of fear on all her bullies.
“W-what are you?” she stuttered, losing her usual calm collected composure
“A Shinigami.” She explained concisely.
“But those are supposed to be myths… Unless.”
“That is what the mundane world will continue to think that. If you go yelling bout a Shinigami in your room when you’re the only one who can see me, they’ll take you to the mental ward and diagnose you with schizophrenia.”
“So I’m the only one who can see you?”
“Yes, because you’re the only one who has touched that notebook. All the provisions provided in there are true.” She rushed to her bag where she had stashed the notebook. After her brothers denied owning it, she figured she’d use it as a notebook for class. Even if it was a bit morbid. She had to test it out. She glances out the window and in the distance sees movement. At first she is puzzled but then she remembers the neighborhood stray dog, Vanish. They called him that because he came and went subtly, but was generally pretty docile. She flipped open the book and wrote the name. Time seemed to move heavily, slowly, but eventually nothing happened.
“Animals are another story. We’re Shinigami, not monsters. But I assure you it does work.” She contemplated for a minute. She had no targets in mind.
The next day was a breeze. It went by just as effortlessly as always, she as usual, couldn’t fight the oncoming sleepiness though. Truly was quiet the entire day, seemingly stewing in her own pit of depression, upset about how she had gotten into this mess. It was all okay until about fifth period. She never took any honor classes. Too much work for a girl with the world on her mind. So as usual, she was surrounded by idiots. She sat, dazing in and out of sleep.
“Hey faggot!” She jumped up, just in case that was directed toward her. But no, it wasn’t her that was the target of this reckless onslaught of intimidation. It was Toshio, the boy in front of her. He had come out the year before and in this ignorant, not so progressive school, faced constant ridicule because of it. But it wasn’t her problem, so why should she involve herself? So she didn’t. For the time being. But once the bell was about to ring, the seemed like she was scribbling down some last notes….
The boy collapsed in less than a minute, clutching his chest for dear life. The teacher ran to his aid but something in her gut told her she too late.
“Call the nurse!” she yelled. When the ambulance arrived, it was already too late. Sixth period was axed; every student was outside the school watching as this shallow man was zipped up in a body bag. When his mother arrived on the scene, she burst into quiet sobs, that gradually got louder until they were screams for loss, for sorrow, for grief. No one in school shed a tear, for they knew what a bigoted brat this man had been. The white truck carried the boy away, as the congregation burst into rapid conversation. All except Anastasia. She cracked a devilish smile, showing her crooked white teeth, malice in her eyes.
“Perfect,”
Anastasia sat, curling a finger through her wavy chocolate hair. The words were dull to her, distant as always. Nonfiction books, as informative as they were to, just dragged to her. So she didn’t bother to read along with them, much less annotate as all her other classmates had been vigorously doing. Some ignored the lesson like she did, but the rest were suck ups, in her opinion. It was her writing that kept her afloat in this class, she didn’t do much of the homework. She had bigger aspirations than to peak in high school. Most of her teachers liked to think she wouldn’t go anywhere. She knew better. She walked home, the streets were busy, packed to say the least. But it was always this way in Japan and she had grown use to the oblivious hordes of people that never knew how to properly walk. She grew slightly irritated at the slow moving throngs, but did not speak up. It would not be fair to take out her anger on some innocent bystander. The tv blared the newscast. Breaking News, another body found, now officially a serial murderer case. A small shiver went down her back at that word. Serial murder. She remembered her mother’s brown eyes, so sad with blue skies when they found the mangled corpse of their family dog, Thorn. At first they thought it was just an awful accident, their dog loved to play outside. They assumed a wolf had gotten it or something, just an awful turn of events. She had been heartbroken. She luckily hadn’t been the one to find him, but she always loved that dog. He watched over her when she slept and cuddled her. But when they returned home from a visit to their grandparents to find their mother brutally slaughtered The blood was everywhere, staining carpets, curtains, memories. She shook her head like a wet dog drying itself would. The past had no place in the present. She closed her eyes, and turned the rusted gold key into its rightful place. She entered her house, to find it empty besides her purring amber cat, looking up at her with chartreuse eyes. She gives her a reassuring pet then walks to the cluttered fridge. At first she ignored the notes and papers that was the chaos of the fridge, grabbed an apple and bit into it. Juice ran down her chin as she chewed it with careful thought. She then read the note with her daily tasks on it, as her dad was at work. There was a single scribble. Please clean the gutters. She sighs; this was one of her least favorite tasks, but I was ordered, so what could she do? She walked to her room, which was painted a deep lilac, then quickly changed into more suitable attire for the task. After all, a skirt would not be appropriate for climbing a ladder. She wouldn’t want all of the neighborhood to see her underwear, after all. She was a practical woman. The weather in Japan was pleasant today, wind ruffled her hair and sun broke through puffy clouds. Children were playing across the street. Their distant laughter was drowned out as she climbed the sturdy silver ladder. She sighed at the familiar feeling of getting leaves and dirt under her long nails. She moved along, cleaning and removing the gunk from her family homes gutters until she stumbled upon it. And that was the moment everything changed. Everyone’s fate from that moment was sealed. Life was not as it seemed.
When she picked up the Death Note she initially thought it had been from some sort of prank shop. The neighborhood kids and her brothers played a lot in their yard, it must have gotten thrown up here by accident. Truly watched from a distance. She knew it had not touched the ground of Earth. It was not yet certain that she would be bound to this girl. But it seemed to happen in slow motion as she tossed the notebook over her shoulder. It hit the ground softly, and from that moment on Truly could not leave the Earth, for long anyways. That night, she sat in her room, dawdling as usual when she first saw her. She would have screamed but her voice caught in her throat. Then she came to her senses.
“Very funny. Chris, Marco where did you get that thing.”
“Yes, very fucking funny, sweetie.” Growled the raspy voice of Truly. The look on Anastasia’s face was hilarious, she wished she could inflict this type of fear on all her bullies.
“W-what are you?” she stuttered, losing her usual calm collected composure
“A Shinigami.” She explained concisely.
“But those are supposed to be myths… Unless.”
“That is what the mundane world will continue to think that. If you go yelling bout a Shinigami in your room when you’re the only one who can see me, they’ll take you to the mental ward and diagnose you with schizophrenia.”
“So I’m the only one who can see you?”
“Yes, because you’re the only one who has touched that notebook. All the provisions provided in there are true.” She rushed to her bag where she had stashed the notebook. After her brothers denied owning it, she figured she’d use it as a notebook for class. Even if it was a bit morbid. She had to test it out. She glances out the window and in the distance sees movement. At first she is puzzled but then she remembers the neighborhood stray dog, Vanish. They called him that because he came and went subtly, but was generally pretty docile. She flipped open the book and wrote the name. Time seemed to move heavily, slowly, but eventually nothing happened.
“Animals are another story. We’re Shinigami, not monsters. But I assure you it does work.” She contemplated for a minute. She had no targets in mind.
The next day was a breeze. It went by just as effortlessly as always, she as usual, couldn’t fight the oncoming sleepiness though. Truly was quiet the entire day, seemingly stewing in her own pit of depression, upset about how she had gotten into this mess. It was all okay until about fifth period. She never took any honor classes. Too much work for a girl with the world on her mind. So as usual, she was surrounded by idiots. She sat, dazing in and out of sleep.
“Hey faggot!” She jumped up, just in case that was directed toward her. But no, it wasn’t her that was the target of this reckless onslaught of intimidation. It was Toshio, the boy in front of her. He had come out the year before and in this ignorant, not so progressive school, faced constant ridicule because of it. But it wasn’t her problem, so why should she involve herself? So she didn’t. For the time being. But once the bell was about to ring, the seemed like she was scribbling down some last notes….
The boy collapsed in less than a minute, clutching his chest for dear life. The teacher ran to his aid but something in her gut told her she too late.
“Call the nurse!” she yelled. When the ambulance arrived, it was already too late. Sixth period was axed; every student was outside the school watching as this shallow man was zipped up in a body bag. When his mother arrived on the scene, she burst into quiet sobs, that gradually got louder until they were screams for loss, for sorrow, for grief. No one in school shed a tear, for they knew what a bigoted brat this man had been. The white truck carried the boy away, as the congregation burst into rapid conversation. All except Anastasia. She cracked a devilish smile, showing her crooked white teeth, malice in her eyes.
“Perfect,”
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