A/N: Hi! This fic starts a little strange, but please humor me! This is, in fact, the first story I have done in first person. I tend to use third person for better descriptive quality. Forgive me if it's terrible. Please R&R! I don't own Naruto!

I sighed, staring at my bedroom wall. 'So bored…' With a grunt, I got back up from where I had been sitting on the floor, beginning my relaxed pacing once more. I winced as my knee cracked, despite the fact my joints do that fairly often. Heck, if I even moved my wrist a certain way it would set off a series of small cracks. My shoulders, back, neck, wrists, knees, and ankles all had this problem, for whatever reason. My knees also gave out a fair bit more than they should. I shook my head, dark purple hair swirling around me. With an annoyed sigh, I took the band off my wrist and used it to tie my hair back into its usual sloppy bun. 'At least that gave me something to do.' I complained mentally. I paused, wracking my mind for something to do. I came up with nothing other than to continue pacing and daydreaming and thinking. I huffed. As I paced impatiently, my, albeit strange, mental playlist had come on. I could hear a song only once or twice, and have it memorized down pat. Same with most other things. I could see someone do something, and, with enough practice, as long as I was actually capable of doing it, I could replicate their actions.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the door to my prison swung open. I glanced at it, staring down the hallway, startled. I ran, and didn't look back. Unfortunately, my room was in the basement, which meant that I would have to get upstairs. I didn't spare a glance for the wooden staircase, just charge right up it. And proved, once more, that I am a klutz. I tripped up the stairs. My knee came down hard on the step beneath me, as my hands hit the floor above the stairs. I just got back up and darted up the last three steps. All the lights were on, and yet I saw nobody. 'Strange.' I really didn't care though, I just bolted for the door before they could stop me. Just as my hand alighted on the handle, I noticed something. In my peripheral vision, I saw streaks of red. When I turned my head, they snapped into focus. 'Blood. All the walls have been smeared with blood.' And that's when I saw the bodies. I wasn't sad, really, but I wasn't happy either. The best way to put it is that I was unaffected. With a shrug, I opened the door, walked outside, and slammed it shut hard. Years of anger and neglect resonated in that final, echoing sound. I had slammed it so hard, the door actually cracked.

I walked, and I just kept going. I didn't care where I ended up, as long as I was far away from that place. That night, I didn't stop. I just kept walking. Darkness didn't bother me; it could be pitch black out, and I would still be able to see just fine. It was a world of perpetual dusk, for me, at least. Colors were washed out and faded, yes, but I could see. This particular trait actually resulted in one of my horrid nicknames they used to tease me with. Cat-eyes. I brushed the thoughts away, flicking my bangs out of my eyes. My thoughts returned to the bloody house. 'I am twenty-two, and yet I was held prisoner in my own house, by my own family. How twisted is that? Hopefully, now that they're gone, I will be able to live in something resembling peace.' The night went on uneventfully, as did the next day and night. On the third day however, my peaceful walk was disrupted. I caught a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. Unlike most people, who would have turned to focus on that one spot, I knew better. I scanned the area, eyes moving. I was rewarded with another flash. 'I hope they don't try to sneak up behind me. Bad things tend to happen when people do that.' My hopes were not to be realized, it seems. I sensed the stranger's presence behind me, coming in fast. My reaction even surprised me. I whipped around, leg raised but low, a kick to the stomach. That is, it would have hit his stomach, if he hadn't caught it. The man, for the stranger was indeed a man, seemed shocked at my sudden reaction. He had a kunai in his other hand, and looked as if he had only just managed to snag my ankle. With a jerk, I reclaimed my leg, placing both feet on the ground.

The stranger had silver-white hair that stuck up at a strange angle. My irrational sixth sense said that there were others, though my other senses failed to find them. The man held still, as if trying to ascertain what I was about to do. I met his searching gaze, lacking any emotion at all. It was hard to tell what his facial expression was, seeing as all but one of his eyes was hidden from view by his headband and mask. Slowly, he stepped forward, bringing the kunai knife up. Its tip came to rest at the hollow of my throat. I didn't move, didn't react, and didn't really care. 'If he kills me, he kills me. No use wasting tears and words. So what if I die? It's not like I've got anything to live for, anyhow. Might just be doing me a favor, actually.' My thoughts were rather entertaining, but I didn't show it.