(z)(e)(r)(o)
It all started when I turned 18.
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STANDARD DISCLAIMER APPLIED.
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"Daddy! Daddy!"
Bright green eyes flooded with transparent droplets as the aforementioned did not appear no matter how many times she pleaded.
"Daddy! Where are you?! Answer me!"
Sniff. Sniff.
She hastily swiped her hand across her nose, insistent in finding her daddy.
"Sakura…"
She instantly froze, short pigtails twisting clockwise to face the caller.
Long wavy pink hair cascaded down the woman's shoulders, amber eyes dull as stone but she still tried to attempt a smile even though it was obviously fake, even to a six-year old.
"Mommy…"
Hana approached her gently, crouching on her knees before oh so slowly…wrapped her arms delicately around her daughter. So carefully, she thought she would break her if she didn't do it so cautiously. Sakura returned the hug, feeling the warmth radiating off her mother.
"Oh, Sakura…" Her voice came out as a sob.
Sakura tried to contain her tears the best she could but it was so hard. It was so hard. Her beloved daddy was gone and nowhere to be found. At first, she thought he went out for a daily stroll but he never came back.
He was gone.
Gone.
It's been so long.
Four days has passed by and he never once returned.
Her daddy might've gotten lost and needed time to find his way back.
Eventually, two weeks has passed.
She made lost daddy signs and posted them all around the neighborhood, she even used her new pack of Crayola crayons!
A month.
Sakura waited, she waited patiently by the doorstep every night.
Two years.
She continued to believe. He'll come back; he just had a few errands to do first.
He's not coming back.
Four years.
A twinkle of a shooting star. "I wish daddy can return home soon."
He's not coming back.
Six years.
Her mother gazed at her quietly, eyes showing undeniable pain as she watched her only daughter run around to and fro the police station everyday after school to look for a man who's never coming back.
Eight.
Hope was diminishing piece by piece.
He's not coming back.
Ten years and the truth;
"Sakura…your father cheated on me with his coworker and they fled together."
Eleven years and bitterness;
He's never coming back.
And finally…
Twelve years.
Her father could burn in hell for all she cared.
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S n o w P i n k
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I've always thought that my life would be perfect. A nice home, a nice car, a nice family, a fun and loving father, a kind and caring mother and myself; young, bright and naive.
Bad things would never happen to me, they only appear on television. They're not real. Real life isn't like that all.
I was right for the most part because…
Reality was much, much more worse.
Twelve years ago…
That one spring day…
Was when everything fell apart.
I never would've dreamed it would happen to me because my life was supposed to be warm, soothing and a place of paradise. My family would be together with me, always.
But that was when Murphy's Law took effect.
Whatever can go wrong will go wrong.
Or
Whatever can go wrong will go wrong and at the worst possible time and in the worst possible way.
I would go with the latter statement because my father decided to run off with his pretty, pretty whore to a place far, far away the night right before my birthday. Hmm, joy.
My mother and I never really gotten over it seeing as we burned every possession he left in our very comfortable two-story home. We watched all the items burn into nothing but ashes.
But in my heart, I always hoped…that maybe…
One day…
Someday…
He'll come back.
But my hope is crushed so screw it.
I can't say I hate my life but I don't really enjoy it either. You will always see some people going all, "Ugh. I wish I could just die already. This is so boring." But when they actually get an opportunity to offer up their last breath, they immediately scurry off to god knows where while wetting their pants. Hypocrites.
But life's funny like that.
One word to describe my life would be bittersweet. And I never hope for anything more because I'm afraid…one day, it'll all disappear. Murphy's Law is frightening that way.
Honestly, who would've known my peaceful life could be disturbed just because my stupid ass father decided he couldn't satisfy his sexual hunger on mother and decided his coworker was better?
I honestly didn't.
It sounds so cliché but it's true. I rather have it another way but I guess things couldn't be helped.
Ugh, I hate men.
Sometimes I actually wished I were a fly. Floating around so carefree, buzzing whenever I want, when I want, nothing to worry about at all. Of course, there's always the risk of the homo-sapiens species trying to whack you death and you won't have the advantages of an actual human being, no pleasure in stuffing yourself with McChicken Burger at McDonalds and you need to shave like…every hour. Having a lot of eyes also increases the chance of getting eye cancer. Black is so yesterday too.
Okay, maybe I don't want to be a fly. But I sure don't really want to be myself right now.
I mean, who the hell wants to have two-inches pass the shoulder pink hair, slightly tanned skin and the deepest viridian eyes that'll make Mother Nature proud?
Sure, the fan clubs were cool during the first few weeks. I never really gotten that much attention before since all the neighborhood kids found it a fun pastime to make fun of my normal size forehead.
And the constant flashes outside my bedroom window were just plain lovely.
Oh sarcasm, I love you so.
I never thought the repetitive asking for dates could get so annoying. The nonstop singing from my ring tone of my cell phone made me officially hate The Jonas Brothers. But Joe is still a fine example of the human specimen.
The last straw was when a few pedophiles chased me down an alley one night while I was getting off my shift at Hollister. I had to bust a few karate moves to make them run for their pedophile money.
(Much thanks to mother who made me took Karate classes at the Konoha Community Centre.)
God bless her 40-year old soul.
But that was the day I started sporting these hideous thick, black-framed glasses to scare them off. It's really amazing how a pair of hideous glasses can change one's appearance.
The dark ages finally ended.
Mother thinks I went overboard. That's coming from the woman who changes boyfriends every week for the last three years.
I took the liberty of giving her boy toys— err "boyfriends" a few nicknames named after a few fast food joints though. It's a waste of time to learn their actual names since they'll be gone by Saturday.
If my memory serves me right, I think mother's first "boyfriend" was Wendy's since he reminded me of a hillbilly and was very fond of his pigtails. Yes, pigtails. He was gone by Thursday.
Thank god.
Next was Tim Hortons. He didn't have the pigtails mind you, but he did have a nasty habit of consuming only donuts and coffee. Hmm…I wonder when he'll be diagnosed with Diabetes?
The following was KFC, and good lord I spat out my Mountain Dew when I first saw him standing outside our doorstep. PEDOPHILE ALERT! PEDOPHILE ALERT! He at least had to be 80.
Entering mother into therapy fleeted across my mind a couple of times when I saw them swapping spit.
But he was gone by Tuesday, not even a week. I think he got a stroke since he started twitching on our lawn after the breakup.
And of course, there was McDonald's and Dairy Queen. Apparently, mother likes two-timing; dating Diary Queen by day and McDonald's by night. Of course, McDonald's eventually found out the situation and decided to challenge Dairy Queen to a Yugioh duel which might I add, lost pretty badly.
So mother and Dairy Queen continued their relationship but the latter discovered his sexuality through a "That's So Gay" poster and decided to pursue a relationship with White Spot instead.
Mother was very heartbroken…
Okay that's a lie.
Right now, mother is in a relationship with Taco Bell. It seems to be going well since they've been dating for over 2 weeks now.
She's a sweet woman and I guess she's got some skills considering she's gotten so many guys wrapped around her finger. But every time I mentioned Dad, she'll get into a hissy fit and will start throwing things again.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm the mother and she's the melodramatic teenager.
But no matter what the circumstances, we stick together like glue. My mother and I depend on each other like a cell depending on its nucleus. We keep each other alive.
Ever since 6, I've moved a total of eight times but now I'm hoping to just settle down.
My normal size forehead does come through for me academically and surprisingly, sports too.
I was instantly inspired after finishing all 178 episodes and the OVA's of Prince Of Tennis.
But things aren't always what they seem.
I hate that saying, seriously.
I tried to do Ryoma's "Samurai Drive" because splitting a tennis ball in half is just plain cool.
Well…I broke my wrist.
It hurt like hell.
Anko-sensei told me I was a dumbass.
Good times…
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"Look out! Look out!"
"Get out of the way!"
With a swerve of my foot, I managed to remove myself out of the rampaging motorcycle's path.
I was a molecule away from tripping over.
"Fu—" I stopped myself just in time before saying the oh-I'm-not-worthy-but-saying-it-soothes-me-so word.
It wouldn't be a good idea to brew any trouble before the semester has even started.
Must.
Resist.
Temptation.
Stop thinking.
Plotting diabolical plans are bad.
Bad!
I'm guessing I look pretty unstable right now seeing as all the students on campus are giving me "WTF" looks.
Move along, move along I told myself.
I found my way to the college entrance, I put my hand on the cool metal bar. I let myself turn my head backwards once more…
"…"
"…"
Stop staring, B to the itches!
I walked down the crowded hallway, pushing pass scowling students.
Some may ask why a poor girl like me is attending a high-ranking college such as Konoha Leaf?
Hmm, I have no idea either. The memory is a bit foggy but I remembered lots of gore, violence and bloodshed.
And studying until my eyes burned like seeing KFC naked.
Oh god.
Bad thought.
Bad thought.
It was like the battle of the nerds.
Okay, it was The Battle Of The Nerds.
And it was a vicious one too.
I don't know why but during the exams period, I've gotten really bad luck.
Things kept falling from the sky right over my head but fortunately always missing its mark, strange men in black holding baseball bats following me around, lots of people giving me the evil eye, my inbox getting flooded with emails I never really bothered to read.
One time, I could've sworn one of them whispered the words "Hitman" and "Haruno" on their cell phone but it was probably my imagination.
I eventually got first place. But for some reason, the second and third placeholders broke their trophies in half. I have no idea why though, it was really pretty and shiny.
But the first emotion I've felt when I found out I gotten the scholarship was relief.
Mother couldn't provide the enough amounts for me to really attend post-secondary. Our household isn't exactly on the success side financially.
I didn't want her to overwork herself then she already does at her waitress job so I thought…
I might as well fight for the greater good.
Hah, I sound like an activist.
So here I am, the only scholar in a college whose tuition can buy off fifty percent of Wal-Mart's stock.
But it doesn't really matter. It's just one more step towards my goal.
Whatever it takes, I'll turn my dream into reality.
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I stared at the sign above me.
"Main Office" it said
With a quick nod to myself for reassurance, I pushed opened the doors and went in.
It was more crowded than the hallways but I managed to get my schedule through tight squeezing.
I enrolled as a pre-med college undergraduate so…
Monday's
Anatomy & Physiology: 5:15 p.m. – 8:15 p.m.
Tuesday's
Biostatistics & Epidemiology: 10:00 a.m. – 1:00 p.m.
Advanced Calculus: 3:10 p.m. – 5:10 p.m.
Wednesday's
Introduction to Pharmacology: 2:00 p.m. – 4:00 p.m.
Anatomy & Physiology: 5:15 p.m. – 8:15 p.m.
Thursday's
Biostatistics & Epidemiology: 10:00 a.m. – 1:00 p.m.
Introduction to Pharmacology: 2:00 p.m. – 4:00 p.m.
Friday's
Medical Communications: 12:00 p.m. – 3:30 p.m.
Advanced Calculus: 3:10 p.m. – 5:10 p.m.
I'm really a geek, I'll never admit it but I love Math. That's why I took the stupid Calculus course; the formulas, the variables, and the numerical coefficients, how can you live without getting a dose of math each day? Then again, I'll deny it if you asked me.
After analyzing my schedule, the only thing stopping me from going with the flow was what the black-haired lady "Shizune" labeled her nametag said.
"All the regular dorms are full."
I frowned at this all the while staring at Shizune's lap. Is that a pig?
"But I've made other rearrangements for you, Haruno-san."
My upside down smile turned right side up.
"You're actually getting a whole building to yourself in the North wing and it's very close to your classes…"
My smile grew into a grin but it returned to its original frown after the next sentence, "…but you will be rooming with seven other gentlemen."
My eyebrows rose at this.
"Why do they get the whole dorm building to themselves?" I questioned. It was the first thought that popped into my normal size forehead head.
"Well…" Shizune began.
I stared, my mind signaling her to go on. She seems to have caught it.
"…they're special cases. They were a big help in providing the…necessities for the college so as a thank you…"
Go on…
"We made… adjustments for them." She finished hesitantly, trying to find better words to use.
But all I could hear was, "They're rich snobs who pretty much owns the school with their filthy shit called money so everyone should kiss their ass and lick the floor they walk on instead because they're so-damn-cool, oh did I mention rich?"
Shizune could only smile apologetically.
I sighed in return, "Fine." I muttered. I've made it this far, no dorm filled with filthy rich bastards are going to stop me!
She handed me a key that really reminded me of those ancient keys that can open dungeons, but in this case, it is a dungeon.
Not that I'm sexist but after the thing with Dad, it left a bit of a scar. I can't really put my trust in organisms of the male persuasion nowadays. That explains why I only had one boyfriend in high school and it only lasted a few days.
I probably drove him to the edge due to my constant nagging for him to promise to never leave me.
He broke up with me in a phone call.
Surprisingly, I didn't feel anything toward the breakup, maybe a bit disappointed but excluding that, nothing. Perhaps I didn't like him that much after all.
Yes even the good looks didn't cut it; my nagging must've been pretty bad.
At least I learned something from it.
Never call your boyfriend every 5 minutes a day asking if they were cheating on you. A real turn off.
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As I made my way through the college campus once more with the dungeon key, I noticed the guys around me undress me with their hearts-filled eyes.
"Perverts." I mumbled under my breath.
Oh yeah, I forgot to put on my horrid glasses and left it in my luggage.
Ugh, I seriously hate men.
I finally reached the north wing and raised my head to stare at the building, my mouth immediately turned agape.
Two girls came out the doors, one frowning and the other crying her head off with black mascara streaming down her chubby cheeks. They sneered at me when they noticed my presence.
I ignored them since I was too distracted by this…mansion.
Wow, these guys sure knew how to live. Though, it was a bit smaller than a mansion but since I have no better word to describe it since "house" and "dorm building" wouldn't do, so "mansion" it is.
I slipped my dungeon key into the little keyhole on the mahogany door and pushed it open.
The greeting I got wasn't what I was expecting,
"Hey, new roommate coming in—" I didn't even get a chance to end my sentence with a period before a pie was splashed onto my face.
I dropped the luggage which consisted of a red Puma sackpack that clashed with my pink rolling luggage case. Lunging said items through campus didn't "exactly" create the greatest first impressions.
So far, I've gotten weird looks and hushed whispers with the word, "commoner" very common (no pun intended) among those lowered voices.
I used my backhand to wipe away some of the cream covering my eyes and noticed seven faces, pretty faces I couldn't help but add. I couldn't see their features clearly but I knew, four faces were covered in amusement, two were snickering and one looked like he was…sleeping?
My insides were pissed and I think holding it in is making it worse.
Filthy rich bastards.
I licked a bit of the white cream smearing my lips.
Banana.
I sighed, Correction, filthy rich bastards that enjoys Banana Cream pie.
Note to self: Add said pie to bonfire list after world domination.
High school seems pretty nostalgic right now.
Ugh, this is why I hate men.
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Author's Note:
Well, I wasn't going to post this until I rewrote all the chapters but I felt bad. Like, really, really bad.
Decided to rewrite this for many reasons. Must I really explain? There was bad grammar, cramped paragraphs, no flow, lame references, OOC characters and things that made absolutely no sense. Some of it probably remains but I'm hoping it's a teeny, weeny, even a molecule better? Much thanks to all the readers that stuck around!
But I hope everyone respects my decision. :)
On another note, I made a story outline-ish! So there won't be any writer's block for a while, hee. Slow progress but still progress.
! Kat.