I don't keep track of the days anymore. All I do is glare at the stupid box that ruined everything. I don't speak to Alexander. I don't eat unless my body forces me to. I don't do anything.

"You know," Alexander starts, after a few weeks of my changed behavior. "It's a music box. You could try listening to it-"

"No. If I'm going to do anything to it, I'm going to destroy it."

"Then why don't you?" He asks.

I hesitate.

"Because...."

"Because of love?" Alexander asks. "I looked into your files, and could see that while you were alive this box was given to you by-"

"Shut. Up." I say, an ice cold tone. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Love is weak. I do not associate myself with such things."

"Then why'd you choose the box?"

I don't respond.

"Mhm," He hums. "Sounds like someone's in love-"

"I SAID SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!! SHUT UP, SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

There's a pause. I let out a sigh of relief, thinking the argument is over.

But I'm not so lucky.

"I've read the file. No matter how much you try to convince everyone otherwise, it's true! You don't have a mask to conceal your emotions anymore. And you don't have to conceal your emotions anymore. It wouldn't hurt to let them out every once in a while."

Then I hear him leave.

He's an idiot. Such an idiot. How dare he assume stuff about me. I hate him.

And I hate this box.

More time passes. I sit there everyday, hating the stupid box. I'm not sure why I don't destroy it. But I don't. It just sits there, taunting me.

"Is this what you wanted, L?" I ask him, one day. "Ah ha ha, I see what you were trying to do! You KNEW this would happen! You always hated my mask, because you couldn't get a good read on me! So THIS is your revenge!"

I laugh, and clench my fists.

"THIS is your revenge! You confuse me into choosing your STUPID box over my mask!"

I angrily stand up, and approach the box.

"I HATE YOU!" I cry, as tears actually begin forming in the corners of my eyes. "I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!!!"

I raise my foot over the small box, preparing to crush it.

This is going to feel so good. I am very much looking forward to crushing the root of all my frustrations. All my pain, all my suffering, is because of this little box.

But then,

Hey, don't do it please.

I freeze.

I freeze, and I begin to tremble.

.... It's late night. Alexander delivered my food a few hours ago. Everyone else is most definatly asleep.

For some sick reason, something posseses me to slowly kneel down, and wind the box up.

Maybe I just wanted to hear it one time before I destroyed it. I'm not sure.

I'm still angry at it. I still hate it more than anything. I haven't the slightest idea why I'm doing this. I was so determined to never listen to it.

I bet it'll sound like garbage.

But.... I wind it up, and let the music play.

.....

It's rather.... beautiful. Something about the notes force my mind to go blank. I suddenly feel.... more at peace. I lie down on my stomach, facing the box, and just listen....

There's something.... almost sad about the music. Even though there are no words, I can hear words.

Hey, Don't do it please.

My eyes go a little wide, as I feel a small drop of water fall down my face. I slowly raise a hand to it, and wipe it off.

"I'm crying?" I ask myself, confused. "Why...."

The music continues telling it's story. His story. I sit, and listen.

Another tear falls, and I am even more confused. I just.... don't understand. Why do I suddenly feel this way. Why do I suddenly feel so peaceful. Why did my anger melt into sadness?! Mr. L wasn't magical. He couldn't have somehow put a spell on this box. And even if he could, it wouldn't work down here. So why do I feel this way?!

There's a key change in the notes, and for a moment my heart stops. And I hear it again.

"Hey, Don't do it please," I whisper.

The music continues it melancholic route, and I just watch.

I watch and listen, and watch, and listen.

And then, I cry. I really cry.

What am I doing?! What have I done?! I destroyed the person who created this box.

The music comes to a stop, and I just sit there, with glassy eyes.

Then, I wind it up, and play it again. And again. And again.

And I realize, it's not the box's fault. None of this is the box's fault. None of this is L's fault. It isn't anyone's fault.

But mine.

I'm the idiot.

My stomach starts to hurt.

______

"You're listening to the music box?" Alexander asks me the next morning. I just nod, knowing he can't see me, and wind it up again.

He waits in silence a moment, then slides my food through the slot and whispers, "I'm proud of you."

I smile ever so slightly, and rest my head on the ground, listening to the beautiful sounds.