Disclaimer-I don't own Naruto.
This is on a subject that everyone should be aware of-
Child abuse.
It's sickening, immoral, and just plain, flat out wrong. No child should have to suffer through this but yet it happens everyday, every hour, every minute, and every second. It could happen to anyone, and yes that does include you.
Sad thing is, most of the time, the kids don't do a thing about it, thinking that they deserve this.
NO ONE DESERVES THIS!
If you think that they do, your just as bad as the person abusing the child.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Date-January fifth.
Time-8:42 PM
It was cold, clear night. On Kohana Street, address 561 was a one-story, white house with a blue roof, lush green grass, and bushes underneath the windows. In one of the windows, you could see a young boy, at least at the age of four.
"Mom and dad will be so proud," said the boy, sweeping the floor. "I cleaned the whole house, like they said to." He paused to look at his work. "All that is left it to clean the vase." He grinned widely as he put up the broom.
Looking at the vase, he saw his reflection. Bruises were on his cream-colored skin. He flinched and picked up the vase and started to clean.
Ten minutes later, he jumped when he heard the door bang open. It startled the boy so badly, he dropped the vase.
In his eyes, he swore time slowed down as tried to get the vase.
But it was too late. It busted into tiny pieces and he landed in the pieces. Shards stuck in his chest, arms, legs, and face. He groaned weakly and rolled on his back.
"NO!" His mother ran into the room. "THE VASE! MY MOTHERS VASE! YOU STUPID BRAT! YOU BROKE MY MOTHERS VASE!"
"I-I'm sorry mom." He yelped when his mother slapped him on the cheek, sending him across the room.
"SORRY ISN'T GOING TO FIX IT!" She stormed over the boy, kicking him in the ribs. She gave a smile when she heard ribs crack and continued.
"I'M SORRY!" He screamed to the best of his ability. He could feel the broken ribs going into his lung. Then his father stumbled into the room.
"Waz goin' on?" The boy's eyes widen in fear. His dad was drunk. His mother ran towards the man.
"THE BRAT BROKE MY MOTHERS VASE!" Fire sparked in his eyes.
"I warned you boy," growled his dad, "screw up one more time and it would be your last."
"NO! GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!" He tried to get up, but was stopped when he got punched in the nose. Clutching his nose, he didn't see the kick aimed towards his ribs.
He stumbled back to the floor, trying to hold his nose and injured sides at the same time. He was forced to meet his dad's eyes when he was yanked by his hair. He could smell the beer on his breath when he spoke.
"You had your last chance and now your going to pay for it." He then grabbed a knife out of his pockets and stabbed into his lungs. He gained a sadist smile as he twisted it, loving the sound of his son screaming in pain and anguish.
"D-d-dad, w-w-why?" He was thrown onto the floor, the knife still in his lung.
"Why?" The man stood over the boy. "I'll tell you why." He stepped on the knife, making it go deeper into the lung. "You're a mistake. You weren't supposed to be born. All that money wasted on you when your mother and I could be having the time of our life." He yanked the knife out and stabbed it into the other lung. "Your not even my child. We only had you the police could track down the bastard who raped her. They found him yesterday and he is on death row. There is no need for you anymore. Would you like to do the honors, sweetheart?"
"Gladly." She walked over to the dying boy. She yanked the knife out and held it over his heart. She bent down over his ear. "I never loved you. It was all a lie." She then slammed the knife into his skull.
On the cold clear night of January fifth, at 9:26 PM, on Kohana Street in the white house with the blue roof, lush grass, and bushes under the windows, Rock Lee died, after seeing his parents have sex on his dying body.