Rated M for: language, lemon in later chapters, drug content

Told in Hinata Hyuga's POV (Point of View).

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters. Just the plot.

I Believed In A Thing Called Love
Chapter 1

The sky was beginning to fade, and as it grew dimmer, my worries soared to greater heights. I couldn't stop replaying today's events in my mind, analyzing every miniscule detail, although I yearned to pause my overactive conscience more than most anything.

The last time I had almost gotten honest with him, things didn't go as I would have liked them to. When my older cousin asked what happened to my wrist, the phrase "honesty is the best policy" came to mind, yet I couldn't convince myself it was the right choice considering the situation. Honesty is hardly an option under circumstances such as these. So I gave him an unsatisfying explanation to which he responded to by dialing a number on the telephone which led to many months of unpleasant therapy and many concerned individuals lending their unappreciated sympathy; it would lead to many uncomfortably sterilized rooms and to the wish of not ever bothering with my wrist to begin with.

Now, maybe, I could grit my teeth, telling myself things are just the way they are, but I can never quite bring myseft to accept what I want so terribly to accept. The irrefutable concept we live only to die eats me alive each day. The fact my life is so miserably insignificant and no matter how much effort I put forth, it will remain as meaningless, desecrates my sad excuses for reasons to keep living.

Perhaps it was my despondently typical upbringing that made me such an unstable, consistently, discontent person. The suburbs tamed my individuality and attempted to convert me into a perfectly conservative, traditional citizen. Or maybe it was my unfortunate ability to never be satisfied, no matter how much I should be, or maybe it's my yearning to not be yet another statistic, and my nauseating success in converting into one.

Sometimes it all accumulated to being all to much for me to handle. Broken bones and blood just don't alleviate the weight that rests upon my feeble mind. I constantly await some magical substance to cure all my troubles, yet I fear that such a substance would ultimately turn me into what I despise most, a statistic.

I rarely won over the approval of my peers and neighbors. Yet, I wonder why others think I need their blessing to live my life the way in which I desire to. I wonder why I would need their blessing if I were to wish to bring my life to a close. Constantly rejected by society, I often retreat to my dimly lit room, hoping to somehow shield out all my surroundings. Sometimes, I turn on the television to see what's going on in the world. The news provides ample information about the world. All I see is hate on the news, broadcasts of wars, violence, crime, and subtle attempts to persuade the viewers to conform to the ideas practiced by the news team.

But now, rather than withdrawing to my living space, I was sitting atop the hill overlooking the mediocre suburb in which I, along with an overwhelmingly conservative population resided. Ideas flustered through my head to a maddening point, so in efforts to calm my distressed mind, I lit up my bowl and took a sequence of deep inhales. After awhile, everything seemed to slow to an understandable pace, and as relaxed as I could become, I began down the hill back home. Neji would be choking over my whereabouts as he always seemed to, though my disappearances occured frequently.

After a brisk 15 minute walk, I came to the doorstep of our modest townhouse paid by the two individuals I detested more than any others. With a swift opening of the door, Neji began his routine interrogation. Although his strict parenting style grew extremely obnoxious, it was comforting to know there was one person who cared enough to be so annoying.

"Where were you?!" he shouted, taking drags of his cigarette in between segments of his lecturing, "You know you can't just run out on me like that! You need to let me know where you are! I'm not going to tolerate your aimless wandering anymore!"

As his anger lessened like a deflating balloon, I stared at him impassively. He looked just as he had when I left, dressed in a pale polo; the overwhelming light color washing out of his face, the faded blue of his denim jeans corresponding with the light shade of his eyes. His long, dark brown hair was coarse due to his lack of vanity and effort.

Towering over me, he paused realizing his tone. "You don't even care, do you?" There was a long pause. The smallest sounds seemed deafening as he stared me down. "Talk to me god damn it!"

With no intent of engaging in aggressive warfare, I turned down the hallway and began up the stairs to my room. For the longest time following my father's death, I couldn't make it up to my room, because it meant passing my father's. For months, I sought refuge on the living room couch. Neji had offered up his bedroom, but I felt, having been the reason he had dropped out of college, I was a heavy enough burden.

Neji had been very upset over the loss of my dad -- his uncle -- whereas, I just felt numb. Everything felt numb now, the kind of numb a dentist makes your mouth before a root canal, with the persistent digging of his surgical tools ripping through your gums to the point where you can just barely aknowledge the pain.

Everyone claimed I had changed since then, but I disagree. It wasn't me that had changed, it was everthing else; the way everthing looked, the way life felt, the way everyone acted. People constantly asked me if I was "okay" after my father's passing. It was probably one of the most aggravating elements of the situation, mostly because I had no idea if I was. I had no idea what feeling okay felt like anymore. They asked if I missed him, if I loved him. Although I answered yes each time, the truth was, I loathed him. The truth was, to me, he was merely the coward who selfishly hung himself on his daughter's thirteenth birthday.

I Believed In A Thing Called Love
Chapter 1 Ended

A/N: So that's it. Review (please).

I've recently decided that until I get at least 10 reviews, I won't publish the second chapter and so on. As you can see, I'm a bit stubborn and have a lack of patience. So, unless some of you are willing to take the time to write a few feedbacks, -- it doesn't have to be much, a few "good jobs" will suffice -- I guess this story is out of luck.

I'll be waiting ;)