OOC: For this I have decided to give her the same problem I have in real life. And it was just fun to write. And Kurry, if you dare even CONSIDER making an MSPaint or Photobucket or whatever kind of drawing of this on the computer, I will hunt you down and kill you.

IC: Molly stood by the open window in her apartment and stared over the town. It was kind of windy, and late at night, so she liked the effect. However, it was not enough to take the burden of stress of her shoulders. It was times like this she had to wonder,

"Who is really right?"

She had wondered that since she started on the case. How could anybody be sure if the investigators or kiras were right or wrong?

"After all," She said to herself, turning her back to the window and sitting on the ground, "We're both really trying to inforce justice... Sure, our methods are different, but we have the same overall goal." She laughed a little in spite of herself. "How much does that happen? Two sides fighting to the death, but they both have the same goal anyway. Maybe we should just not mind eachother's business."

She closed her eyes and relaxed for a second; she felt accomplished even though she had done nothing. "Except realize a truth. Kira, atleast the first Kira, isn't any more evil than I am."

Suddenly, she was jolted back to reality by the sound of footsteps in the hall. She stood up, but as soon as she did, the footsteps stopped. It was as if someone heard her... Knew she was there.

"Calm down, idiot." She ordered herself. "It's probably just another person who lives here... This isn't my house, it's an apartment complex. But inside, she knew that nobody else lived here.

The footsteps started outside again, but more cautiously. Molly hurried silently and opened the cabinent where she kept her medicine the psychologist had told her to take. "It's probably not real." She told herself, digging around in the cabinent as quietly as possible. She found the package of pills he had given her, but it was empty.

"Shit!" She whispered. The footsteps came to right outside her door and stopped, so she hid in the cabinent.

Presently, the door slowly creaked open. Through the crack in the cabinent doors, Molly could see a little bit of the room. She heard what sounded like two sets of footsteps walk inside the apartment.

"Find her." A voice ordered in almost a hiss. The footsteps started again, and things began being knocked over as the people started searching the room.

"Where the hell is she?" The voice hissed.

"Well, if we don't find her, you know what's going to happen." A voice filled with pain replied. Molly saw a person walk by the cabinent, and she almost cried.

It was a clown. A freaking clown! The only thing that had ever scared her, but they were like hell on earth to her. People that, and this probably wouldn't help if she knew, not even a kira could kill.

The other one walked by, and, just as she thought, another clown. They one was holding an axe, and the other had a chainsaw.

Well, I always knew they were evil... She thought to herself in amusement.

Before she could think much of that, an eye came right up to the cabinent. The face it belonged to was covered in freakish masking paint, and the eye itself was bloodshot and goldish-green.

"Boo." It said, throwing open the cabinent a second later.

"Found someone, I see?" The other asked, grinning maliciously and showing sharp teeth. He held out the axe and turned his grin to her.

Suddenly, someone was heard walking in the hallway. Two voices could also be heard, a teenage boy and girl, and both seemed to be in a good mood.

The clowns grinned at eachother. "Wait here." One ordered. Then they both walked into the hallway.

Molly began to think frantically, ignoring the screams of fear and agony in the hall. "This is just a hallucination... But I could feel the others, so does that mean it could actually kill me?" She heard maniacal laughter in the hall, suggesting that they were coming back...

She quickly ran and closed and locked the door, then retreated to a corner of the room. On the way, she grabbed a butcher's knife she had left on the counter.

"Okay..." She said to herself, shivering in the corner and trying to make herself as small as possible. "A butcher's knife is no match for an axe and chainsaw..." She paused as she heard voices in the hallway again.

"She locked the door." She heard.

"Well, we should make this a little more painful for her, then." The other one replied. "Let us in, girlie! You know this isn't going to hold anybody for long."

"Damn! They're back!" Molly said to herself. Without thinking about it, she started scratching at her itching throat. She only noticed when she saw a maggot fall onto the floor.

"No..." Her eyes were wide as she realized that it had come from the small cut in her throat. A few more fell next to it. She began to feel them crawling all on and inside of her throat as she heard an axe hacking away at the door: Apparently she had waited too long to let the clowns in, and they were coming by force.

Though she knew what it was going to do, she continued to scratch at her itching, bleeding, maggot infested throat. After just a few seconds of this, she was in more terrible pain than she could ever have imagined before this. Her senses felt heightened, including her sense of feeling.

By now, her throat had been cut open enough to cover her hand and the front of her shirt in blood, and she knew this was going to kill her very soon. Almost instinctively, she began writing on the wall with her own blood.

By now, the other two had found their way in. "There she is!" One said. They quickly began making her way to her.

"I'm going to die now... But not to them." She said to herself. She stuck her knife into the wall by the handle, blade pointed out. The clowns stopped and watched amusedly.

"There's no way that she-" He was cut off as she began ramming herself into the outward pointing blade of the knife. It didn't take long of this before she fell to the ground, dead. The last thing she saw was her trashed apartment, the clowns laughing maniacally, and her blood, splattered all over the ground as well as writing the word 'Gomenasai' again and again on the wall.

To the rest of the world, there was a dead sixteen year old girl lying on the ground. Her blood was covering her throat, fingernails, floor, the bloody knife sticking out of the wall, and making out the writing on the wall, in an otherwise perfectly orderly apartment.