A/N: A sad story I made up last night out of boredom- no inspiration. It's in the point of view of Gaara's loving mother- This takes place in an alternate universe.

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Autism is a problem with the way the brain grows and develops. People with autism are not very good socially. Sometimes they do not like to look at others while talking to them, or do not want to share interesting things with others. Also, they are not good at communicating. Sometimes they may not talk, or want to talk with others. Last, they repeat themselves. They may be interested in one thing that people without autism would not think is that important.

A normal baby without autism will usually look at people talking, look at other people's faces, smile, and be interested in other people. Autistic babies, though, may like objects more than faces and other people. Autistic children may usually like to be by themselves, without other people around. They may also not react normally to hugging and other signs of love by their parents. This does not mean that they do not love their parents, they just do not know how to say it. They may also not see other people's emotions; for example, they might not see much difference between whether a parent is smiling or being sad.

Some autistics spend a lot of time doing the same thing over and over again, or be interested in unusual things; some autistics might spend a lot of time waving their arms around, walking on their toes, or putting things in order (arranging them). An autist might spend a huge amount of time putting toys in lines or patterns and may get angry if someone bumps something out of place.

Some do not want any change, and will do exactly the same things every day without change—such as when they eat, getting dressed, brushing their teeth, or going to school—and may even get upset if any change takes place to this. They may also be interested in strange things and may spend all of their time learning about their interest.

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My Son

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He was never the kind to thrive for that sort of attention. Unlike most he kids he actually tried to stay away from it. I always thought that maybe it was just a phase in his early childhood. Just a phase. He was always quiet around people- he'd hide behind my legs whenever someone came over and I wanted to introduce him. And when children came over, he would hide in his room until they leave. I thought maybe he was just a shy person, and that it would grow better but...

It got worse.

When I finally took him to the doctor at five years old to ask what was wrong with my son, and what was to become of him. He told me in a stern voice that it was my fault that I didn't come to him sooner. He told me that since I was too late, there was absolutely no way to help my son. He told me that my son's condition was so severe that there wasn't even a way to lessen the symptoms.

I was...I was angry to say the least. I was infuriated! I thought that this man simply couldn't help my son- so he decided to blame me instead. I got over it- eventually, and I began spending more time with my son. I started creating false hopes, telling myself that he would be okay as long as I stayed with him- and never left his side. I made myself believe that his condition would get better in time if I just paid attention to him and no one else.

I realized later on that that was probably the worst mistake I had ever made. While caring for him I began neglecting his older brother and sister. They began to fight over me at the worst possible times and they began to hate the youngest. I was petrified when my oldest son, Kankuro confided me one night and accused me of loving his younger brother more than I loved him. I had this intense conversation with him, telling him that I loved all my children equally. I tried so hard to make it so a seven year old could understand...but in the end he announced to me that he hated his brother.

Temari- the oldest out of all of them was the same- maybe worse. Together she and Kankuro began to torture Gaara. Hitting him when I wasn't around and blaming it on each other when I would question Gaara's recent bruises on his face. When I would catch them, they would burst out in tears claiming that they were sorry- but I would ignore them and tend to Gaara's needs.

He was a very picky person that Gaara. He never wanted what I gave to him. He never liked to eat. He never liked to play with toys, and he never liked anyone. He didn't like anyone- anyone except me. No. I couldn't say he liked me- but he tolerated me. He let me touch him, which was a huge thing because if anyone else did, he would go ballistic and scream his head off. But he tolerated me. I could bathe him, soothe him, and caress him when he was tired. Unlike most children, he didn't like looking at people, or even smiled when someone made funny faces at him. Instead he liked to stare at walls with patterns. He liked to stare at weird pictures with no people in them. He hated pictures with people- they never seemed to interest him.

When he became seven I bought him a painting kit. With that painting kit he began to make art. Beautiful art. His small skinny fingers traveled through the white paper to make patterns. He would spend consecutive hours just running his fingers through the same single white sheet of paper, until finally he was done. His pictures always turned out to be amazing, in my eyes. They were just colors joining together to make wicked designs, sometimes you could see weird shapes and existing ones all inside this small circle. He would make that same complicated, detailed image over and over again, making a pattern.

After he make's the picture, he would stare at it for another round of consecutive hours. He would never take his eyes off of it, and if you stare at him at the right angle, you'd see a small, small smile on his face.

When Gaara turned ten, he stopped obsessing over patterns. He went back to having nothing to entertain him, so I took him out everyday after school, with his siblings. They didn't beat him now anymore, since they all went to three separate schools and I was always home when they got back. Kankuro, being twelve and Temari being thirteen both felt it wasn't very cool to associate themselves with their ten year old brother, so they completely excluded him from their lives and continued pretending he didn't exist. It didn't matter to Gaara. He never liked them anyway.

His preteen years were one of any normal boy, besides the constant visits to the doctor and the poor, poor grades in almost every subject.

When Gaara turned fourteen however, almost every thing changed. I noticed a great increase in his terrible state and I had to force him to eat. I sat with him one night and asked him what was wrong. He just looked at me for a long time before bursting out in tears. He was in hysterics- so loud that his siblings from the other room shouted for him to shut up. I was petrified. I didn't know what to do, and at that moment I think that it was the first time I felt I could do nothing- absolutely nothing to...to comfort him.

He cried for hours. Literally. Or it seemed that way to me, because at that moment...I loved him so much. I wanted to help him so badly at that particular time it hurt.

When he finally stopped crying I let him lay on his bed silently and stroked his head, waiting for him to fall asleep. He didn't sleep. Instead he started mumbling words to me. He began to tell me how much he hated it at school, and how he wanted to stop going. He told me how pointless he thought it was that he should go. I was relieved because I thought that he was just frustrated with not being able to understand his subjects like most kids do.

Then all the sudden the mumblings took a turn for the worst. He started talking about these four guys that kept bullying him constantly, over and over again and calling him some disgusting names.

I, like any mother would, told him that there was no need to pay attention to them, and ignoring them was best. I told him that they were idiots who didn't know how special he was. When I was finished, I was taken aback when he looked at me with the most...pathetic most...grieving eyes I had ever seen. And right there and then he told me those three words that will stay engraved in my mind for all eternity.

"They fucked me."

I can't tell you how I felt when he said those words to me. I can't tell you how I felt the exact moment he said those words to me because I honestly don't remember. What I do remember is how I felt after I...grasped the information he had just told me.

It was mixed emotions. I was angry at...the four boys who tortured my son in school- the four boys who failed to realize that my son was a human being and had no right to be offended in the worst way possible. I was filled with the most agonizing grief knowing that my son- MY son was...was...offended and I could do absolutely nothing about it!! I cried. I cried my eyes out. Night after night you could hear me sobbing in my room with the door locked. I couldn't even look at Gaara's face anymore. It filled me up with such guilt that I...I just couldn't take it.

I didn't call the school, nor did I try to find out who exactly the four boys were. I did the only thing I thought I could do. I moved him out of that school.

Years past. Three years to be exact. He was a few months past sixteen. It was the beginning of the best moments in his, and my life. He came home one Thursday night with...a smile on his face. His smiles were always so rare, which made them all the more beautiful. He gave me a cheerful 'Hi' before dashing up the stairs to his room.

I remember walking into his room that same night, and he had some kind of weird stuffed panda bear in his arms. One toy I did not remember buying. He had it so close to his chest, a beautiful smile ran across his face and he was sleeping.

You'd think that he was an angel from the heavens, when you saw him smile like that. It might have been...the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my life. Later that same night, he came to my room, with that same bear in his arms. He had woken up after only a few hours of sleep, like always. He came onto my bed and sat beside me. He would do this often and I would stay up late just to see if he would come into my room. I would read to let the time pass by- sometimes he didn't came, but the other times when he did, we would talk about how was his day and what was going on in school.

When he came to me that night, he talked about the strangest things- in fact so strange I don't even remember what they were. What I do remember was what he told me after. He had said with such a strange optimistic voice that was unknown to me. I had never seen a look like that on his face before. It was the look a baby gave to a mother when he was pleased or excited. It seemed so strange to me to see that kind of emotion on his face at his age and with his sickness. He said it like it was the best thing that ever happened to him- Like everything around him didn't matter anymore, like the whole world would just collapse at his feet just to hear this amazing news.

My son had a boyfriend.

'His name is Sasuke.' Was how he introduced him to me. He held my hands and beamed at my face as if he knew I would approve of this relationship. If it was any male and male relationship I would disapprove- but this was my son- so of course I did.

When he first came to my house I knew exactly who he was. After Gaara had confessed to me of the 'incredible' news he just couldn't stop talking about him. It was Sasuke this, and Sasuke that. I would've been annoyed if I wasn't so happy! Happy that my son was happy. He would come home with a gift almost everyday. His wrist was decorated with a Daniel K watch, and a few small bracelets. His fingers were coated with fancy rings- and this all happened in the first few weeks!

Temari was disgusted with it, Kankuro wasn't around the house anymore to even care. When Gaara and his knight in shining armor went out on their first date, it might've been one of the best moments of his life but also the night I had the worst argument with Temari.

She was angry at me for neglecting her and Kankuro. She was mad at me for paying more attention to Gaara then anyone else in the family. I, of course protested that he was sick and needed the extra attention, but she refused to understand and instead, yelled at me and accused of everything being much more than that.

She accused me of not caring what Gaara did as long as he was happy. She reminded me of how I treated her first boyfriend, a lazy college student who would rather stare into space then be at his girlfriend's graduation.

'You didn't even give him a chance!', she yelled at me. 'You don't know how much I loved him!'

I was so angry- so angry that I couldn't stop the words that came from my mouth, only making the situation worse. I told her that the man she dated had no future, and didn't care weather she was dead or alive. I yelled that the only reason why he had dumped her was because he knew he couldn't get a 'good fuck' with me around. She began crying and yelled on top of her lungs that the only reason why he dumped her was because he hated the fact that she was hurt everytime I would scream at him.

With anger boiling inside of her she called me a bitch and slapped me. I, so lost in the passion, slapped her back. She cried some more after that and with a choked sob she told me that If her first lazy ass boyfriend was the one Gadara was dating now, I wouldn't give a damn. And the sad part was-

She was right.

I wouldn't care if it was a man with a wife and three kids- If he could make my son smile like that...I really wouldn't care.

When Gaara came home from his first date with Sasuke, his smile, if possible, became even more angelic. It was as if he just stepped on an even higher cloud then before.

Months past and they were still together. I remember Gaara coming home one night after another date. He was tired, and has a small tired smile on his face. I watched him limp up the stares. I didn't need to be a genius to know what had happened previously that night.

You know, normally a woman who was finding out that her son was having sex with a man at the age of sixteen would have been outraged, horrified- even the worst of mothers would at least be concerned. Well I was concerned- but that smile on Gaaras face reassured me and told me that everything had gone well.

More months past. Gaara still went to the doctor. The doctor was pleased that he had someone that kept his usually high depression levels at a low rate. He talked to me more- more than he had ever in his entire life. It was as if he was a normal boy this whole time. A normal, beautiful, gay boy. It was two years of perfect bliss.

That is...until he turned eighteen. Everything collapsed when he turned eighteen. Everything.

He came home one night, smile faded and his face contorted something else- something that looked like disbelief- regret maybe. I couldn't really tell, but I knew to be worried. He didn't even look at me when I asked him what was wrong. He ignored me and went to what used to be Temaris's room before she moved out.

You wouldn't believe how scared I was to find the door locked when I tried to open it. I thought maybe he and his boyfriend had broken up, and he would try to kill himself. I knocked on the door, ten, twenty times before he finally opened it with an annoyed look and his face. I checked his arms for any recent inflicted wounds- He pulled his arm away from me and harshly brought them down to his sides, before asking me what the hell I wanted. I took the attitude as a sign of grieving. I asked if something happened between him and his boyfriend.

He told me that it was none of my business, so I countered back and told him I would make it my business and never let Sasuke see him again. Having said that he backed off quickly and his defensive mode shut off. He confessed to me that he and the black haired angel go into a fight. He told me in such detail of how angry he got when he accused Sasuke of doing something he could've never done. I smiled and told him that in relationships, arguments were necessary in order to keep the love real. He shook his head and told me that it was different. He told me that he accused Sasuke o cheating on him for a very good friend of his. I was...shocked to say the least. I didn't think relationships took surprising twists like this, just as they do in soap operas. He got all teary for a bit, but never really started crying. Instead his eyes narrowed in anger when he talked of his blond friend, Naruto something or other.

He told me of how they always seem to be too close to each other when he came by, and how Naruto's been blushing much more than usual. I felt the need to laugh. I thought that my son was jealous that someone other than himself was catching his boyfriend's attention. I thought it was simply a phase in everyone's life- I thought it was cute. I remember him stuttering at one sentence-

'And tonight I saw him...I saw him...'

He never did finish his sentence. He just told me that he guessed his eyes were playing tricks on him.

The next day the smile didn't come back. Gaara didn't seem angry or depressed. Instead he had somewhat of an...uncaring look on his face. I asked him what was wrong, but he just gave me a crooked smile and said everything was alright. I was glad- but I celebrated much too soon.

Two weeks later, everything changed. He came home with tears in his eyes and a terrified look on his face. He ran up the stairs, into his room and slammed the door behind him. I ran after him only to find the door locked. Inside I could hear him screaming and throwing things around. I heard a constant banging and crashing sound against the wall and occasionally something heard banged against the door. I heard him open the private bathrooms door, going inside the medicine cabinet and throwing things around. I was shaking so badly I couldn't even hold the door handle right. I could hear things splashing into water- probably toilet water. I could make out some of the words Gaara was saying- they were mostly obscenities being repeated over and over again.

In about fifteen minutes I heard a huge splash- and everything stopped. The screaming, the bashing- Everything. I figured he calmed down and finally settled onto his bed. I rushed into my room, grabbed a credit card out of my purse and swiped it against he lock on the door. It opened with ease. I called out his name before opening the door completely. When I opened the door- my son wasn't on the bed. He was in the bathroom.

With his head in the toilet.

You know when you see those movies when a guy is under water and about to drown, then his other guy comes out of shitwhere to help him and drag him out of there, and he gives him CPR a couple of times before the guy who almost drowns spurts back to life?

Bullshit.

I pulled my sons head out of the toilet and gave him CPR more times then I could count. I breathed into his mouth until I myself was out of breath. Then I called the ambulance- they came right away. The trip to the ambulance was long an agonizing. I sat in the back of the blaring truck holding the hand of my pale, pale son. I held his hand tightly so I could get more color into it. The color never came.

As I waited outside the emergency room, I held my hands together and prayed to god I didn't even believe. I prayed, and prayed and prayed. I prayed for my son, I prayed for myself, prayed for Temari, I prayed for Kankuro, who had not yet come home in weeks. I prayed for my dead grandmother. I prayed for Gaara even more. I prayed and sobbed, and sobbed and prayed.

When the doctor came out I rushed over to him, with a pleading look, and tried so hard to put hopes into my brain. The doctor looked at me with a solemn face. he was the same doctor who helped me conceive Gaara, the same doctor who told me Gaara was diagnosed with autism, the same doctor who insulted me as a parent, and the same doctor who held me as I cried uncontrollably against his chest.

My son was dead.