he's lost it. Light has gone off the rails. You have been helping him for the past few months, writing names, keeping patterns irregular. But you walked into his room to find him surrounded by ripped pages of the death note with huge lettering sprawled across them. In the middle he sat, his head in his hands panicking

I'm a murder.. they deserved it.. my futures ruined.. I'm making a better future.. I can't go back now..