Again... Boredom! Yes, I write many more stories when I am bored... lol!! But I wanna make another Gaara fanfic D Angrty and tradegy! yay!!! -cough- damn you for making me an angst fan, Panda-chan!!!!
Enjoy the video! It's an awesome song that fits Gaara perfectly D -huggles Gaara and writes the story-
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A boy at the mere age of thirteen walked down the streets of Suna, his gourd back at hom. He wore black clothes, and a white sash. No other weapons were traced along his thin body - absolutely nothing. It was odd for a genin such as himself to not carry protection such as kunai or shuriken. But for this certain ninja, he needed nothing. Only himself. You see, Gaara had been feared ever since he was born. he was a curse himself, a demon sand spirit lied deep in his soul. Shukaku the sand spirit... Feared by everyone. Gaara was betrayed in his life and learned to only love himself. He accepted the fact that he was alone... all alone and hated in the world. He now turned the corner slowly, his eyes holding no emotion as he slowed his pace, being able to wait to get home. His home held too many memories of his childhood. Yashamaru, Gaara's uncle and caretaker, had willingly tried to kill him when he was six, the homicidal act turning into mayhem itself. That night, Gaara promised himself to not love anyone but himself...
People glared at Gaara as he walked, his eyes staring straight ahead and brushing the fearful glares off of his spirit.
"Hey, pup! Cheer up! They only hate you because you are better than them! That's nothing to be ashamed of, kiddo!" Shukaku allowed himself to say in Gaara's mind.
"Shut up, demon..." Gaara muttered as he opened the door to his house, hearing a rukus of Temari, his sister, and Kankuro, his brother. They were obviously fighting over the remote again... Gaara sighed as he closed the door and walked to his room, ignoring the noise his siblings were making. Gaara reached his room and gripped the door knob, turning it and opening the door to enter his room. He closed the door and locked it behind him. Gaara glared at the old drawings he drew when he was six. He tore them down and threw them away quickly, feeling as if he wasn't good enough to live. A silent tear slid down his cheek, his light sea green eyes showing a small flicker of emotion as he crouched down in a sitting poistion and rested his head on his knees, softly crying to himself; more inwardly than real tears. He stared at the scars on his wrists. He had been like this ever since Yashamaru betrayed him...
Stopping here. I'm done for now. lol