Light sat at his desk, with his pen poised over his Death Note. Why do I have to kill this Dora the explorer anyway? Light thought, still looking at the paper.
Do it! Write down the chubby child's name down!" said a far away voice.
Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb? Why were there knees to receive me and breasts that I might be nursed? For now I would be lying down in peace; I would be asleep and at rest.