Scream: a MattxMello fan fiction

part seven

*Mello's POV*

*Flashback to a few years ago...*

I'm done with Wammy's.  Done with the way they treat me there because of my last name.  Done with their rules.  Done with having to deal with the constant reminder that I'm a descendant of one of the most cold-blooded mafia bosses in Russia and that I look just like him.  I know my uncle better than those bastards.  He's a good man and does what he has to do in order to survive.  So I'll do what I have to do to survive on my own too.  If my uncle's alive...wherever he is, I know I'll make him proud.  

I went down to an empty area to collect myself...maybe even try to collect some money to catch a plane out of England.  I can't handle this place.  I don't fit in here.  Everywhere I look, people either give me a disgusted look or they back away because they're afraid that I'll hurt them.  Do I look that scary to people?  I put myself up against a wall, slid down to the ground, and sat there.  I'm trying not to cry...Mother wouldn't want me to cry...she'd want me to be strong.  But I don't know how to feel.  L just died...he didn't choose who'd be his successor...I miss Mother...I miss my home...everyone's scared of me.  I felt tears begin to slowly roll down my cheeks and drip off of my chin, but I tried to fight it.  I can't be crying right now, feeling sorry for myself!  My throat tightened up and I felt like I was going to choke, it hurt so much.  I eventually stopped trying to fight back the tears and just let myself cry.

A person came over to see if I was okay.  With my sight blurry with tears, I couldn't quite make out what this person looked like.  Was I being too loud?  I wiped my eyes, blinked, and got a better look at them.  It was a very young woman who was short and had shoulder-length, shiny, wavy auburn hair.  She looked at me with concern and asked, "Are you alright?"  I shook my head, hung my head down, and started crying again.  The woman sat down by me to try comforting me.  Why is she doing this?  Shouldn't she be afraid of me like everyone else is?  She asked me again, "What's the matter?"

I sighed shakily before saying in my thick native accent, "Everything.  The one who was supposed to sentence Kira to death just died, everyone here hates me, I want my mother, and I want to go back to Russia."  She pulled me into an embrace and I sniffled. "I-I hate it here."

The woman replied sympathetically, "I'm so sorry.  Where is your mum, sweetie?"

"My mother died when I was eleven...in my arms." The only reason they made me move here to England is because nobody was around to take care of me.  Plus they found out how intelligent I was, so they put me in Wammy's, not knowing that I'd have people hate me and treat me like garbage.  She held me in her arms and rubbed my back.

"I'm very sorry for your loss.  I can't imagine the pain you feel."

I replied, "Thank you.  I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone...not even my worst enemy." Well...my worst enemy was the man who made me, and he died when I was seven.  I asked her, "What is your name, miss?"

The woman said, "I'm Beatrice.  How about you, little one?"