I bent down with my hands on my knees and let out a tiny wail, trying to let a little of my exhaustion escape through my voice as my grip on the mop tightened.

"What are you doing, girl? Keep cleaning!"

I felt a sharp pain to my side and I fell to the grimy ground. Crying out, I knew my boss had hit me, either with his hand or with something, like a frying pan. Since getting hit was normal to me, I really didn't feel any pain when I got beat, but today I felt it realistically. Maybe I was getting sick?

Getting up and spitting slightly as I did so, I grabbed the fallen mop and continued my horrid labor. I felt the glare of my boss's eyes on my back and my mopping quickened.

He gave a satisfied grunt and left the kitchen.

I let out a sigh when I saw that he was really gone, and looked out the window.

I am Haruno Sakura, 15 years old starting today, and I am a drunkard's daughter with no mother. Apparently she left when I was 10 and died in the streets. I hate her now. My hair is abnormally pink, and my eyes a rare green. This was a creepy combination, or so the other kids said, so I never managed to get any friends.

I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. I guess I'm a natural loner.

After 2 more tedious hours of grueling work, I was free to go. I put the little things I had into an old bag I had nicked fresh from the rubbish bin; my purse, a small mirror, and my phone. It was an old model, but I guess I'm very lucky to at least have a phone.

I slipped on my white, fake leather shoes and walked out to the busy streets of Suna. Cars roared pass me, splashing sewage water onto my white skirt. Ignoring it, I crossed the street and walked towards my home.

My home was a dingy, dirty, damp apartment on the second floor. The first floor was home to a well-known rapist, and on the third floor was a reformed serial killer who had just come out of jail a couple days ago. What a pleasant place to return to.

I pushed open the door, knowing it wasn't locked. My dad was inside, snoring and mumbling incoherently as an empty beer can fell from his hand and hit the floor with a 'clang!' waking him up.

His eyes opened slowly, and wandered drunkenly until he finally saw me in the doorway.

"What the hell were you doing?" He roared, throwing the beer can at me. I let it hit me, because I knew he would get mad if I dodged it. The pain was not felt, and I merely continued to watch him.

"Konbanwa, tou-san." I greeted, not moving from my spot. "How are you today?"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP! Do you expect me to starve? Go cook dinner!"

I nodded obediently and put down my bag. After my dad finished eating whatever I had cooked, he pulled a face and threw the bowl on the ground. It broke, and some pieces of it cut my leg. I watched the blood run down my ankle.

"You clean that up!" My dad hollered, and slapped me across the face. He proceeded to beat me with anything he could find, including the chair he was sitting on.

I coughed out blood on the floor as soon as he left to his bedroom, and I dragged myself as quietly as I could into my own room where I patched myself up. With what strength I had left, I pulled aside one of the floorboards, shooed away the mice and took out my medical first aid kit.

I placed band-aids on the worst cuts, and rubbed medical gel on my bruises to numb the pain. Putting my things in gently, I slid the floorboards back.

My bed was the ground, so my back was used to hard places. My blankets were my clothes, and my companion was darkness. I'm used to the dark. I grew up in the dark. Darkness is my true home.

Darkness is my soul.