A game, that's all life was to him, life was putty in his hands something he formed all by himself and no one else, no one else should help him, well more like no one else would help him though he wanted it, for he was the outcast the loser the troublemaking demon child of whom no one should even get close to for if you did you would die. He was Uzumaki Naruto.
It was as if life should be a game for him really and that's just how the game wanted him to think, you control the game by making your own choices but it's still out of reach, because the game knew how you would move. The game knows all, you think that's not true take a look at his fucked up life.
And you can't change the rules of the game, yes the rules are definite they were the tall and strong steel gate that kept you trapped in the game. They were what controlled you, if you did something against the rules you were immediately kicked out of the game permanently.
His mom and dad must've broken a rule, because they'd been kicked out of the game, In a horrible way too. Not even his pet fox Kyuubi was saved in fact the only reason he was is because his brother had pushed him out at the last second.
He heard they had suffered greatly, well no he never heard anyone say that in fact they told him it was quick and painless it was only that of the grim face the doctors wore along with their bright white and blue scrubs which had told him so.
And his life wasn't just a game but a story, humans can be so disgusting like that, you see you do attract more flies with honey. His whole life was honey to the fleas people call reporters, newscasters as well. Because who didn't love reading about the oh so poor kid whose mother owned a country famous restaurant, and father of whom was the mayor along with his basketball star brother all die in a horrible accident.
The only answers he gave were secretly pleads to tell them their deaths weren't an accident, they were killed by the game of life. No one believed him of course they just thought he was a child in shock from having seen his parents die in front of him.
They all gave lies when talking about the accident as well, saying the poor child is in a state of depression they would say he's grieving for his family's loss. Then they would start to talk about something else, more lies no doubt.
He hated it that he was advertised like a neon sign he hated that people thought his life was only a story about a child who lost his famous family at the tender age of seven. But his life was more than that, he had memories of so many things trips to Disneyland, learning to read, exploring new things.
He remembered all of the things he had done, the happy moments with family the sad moments all alone and the angry moments with his best friend. He hated that nothing would ever be the same, people would view him with hate or pity.
Oh yes that's another thing he hates, the controversy, where people think he had done it, that he had killed his own parents. Those people believed he was insane, that he had something wrong with him, that he probably had voices in his head.
But yes he did, those lingers of whispers they would let out when he passed in his full bandaged glory. He would hear them call him a demon child to their friends when they thought he couldn't hear, but he did in fact it's harder that they'd whisper it behind his back. It only made it so much louder.
When they whispered it was louder than any scream, howl, or screech he'd ever heard. It would constantly ring through his ears, the names they called, all the utterly horrible names they would whisper and unwittingly yell at him.
After a while he learned just how they'd died, smoke inhalation. Painfully slow smoke inhalation, it had taken them 10 minutes before all they had was smoke in their lungs, afterwards they had died slowly choking for air grasping at doors to get out, and it was anything but slow.
Plus the amount of burns they had showed just how much pain they were in before it had happened, a lot, they had chipped fingernails from they scratched at the floor.
He emptied his stomach when he'd seen just how it happened, seeing their mangled corpses staring lifelessly ahead with empty eyes that used to be so full of life only to have them drained of it. The doctors rushed in when they heard the bloodcurdling cry of terror and hacking.
They of course couldn't bring themselves to reprimand the boy for sneaking into the hospital an into the room, seeing his tearstained face and seeing the vomit dripping from his mouth they could only sit there and watch as the child was in a state of terror, shock, and despair all at once.
He couldn't sleep that night, every time he even closed his eyes he would see his brother desperately clutching onto a picture of them at the start of the trip. Naruto was smiling like a ray of the sun in the picture sitting on his brother's shoulders and making sure his chubby hands were holding onto his mom and dad's by bending down.
At the base was along with Kyuubi in bold writing, Best summer trip ever.
And it truly had been till the fire.
Funny how one little spark could cause an RV gas tank to explode and kill three people while leaving a child mentally scarred for life, how one little spark could kill his everything, could kill his light, even though the spark came from a light, it's sort of ironic though right.
Naruto at the age of seven lost his father Minato, mother Kushina, Brother Kuruma, and Pet Kyuubi in a terrible RV fire would live most of his life as an outcast till he met him…