Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

A girl with dark pink hair sauntered down the last few steps on her bus, before walking slowly toward her house. Coming to a stop a few feet away from the door, she sighed. Her parent's cars were gone again, which meant no one was home. That was the 3 time she had come home and they had been gone this week, and it was only Tuesday. She sighed, shaking her head and opening her door with the house key. Slamming it behind her, she left it unlocked. Walking into the living room, she unlocked the cage door, letting her dog out. Said creature ran around her feet, barking and biting, begging to be picked up. The girl leaned over and picked her up, rubbing her fur absently as she walked up the stairs and down the hall to her room.

Her other dog followed her obediently. The girl pushed open the door with her shoulder, holding it open for her dog. She set the other mutt on the bed and tossed both of them a treat from the container on her dresser. She then removed her laptop from her bag and set it up on her desk, turning it on. While the screen logged on, she took out her ponytail and brushed her pink locks. Putting down the brush, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her pink hair seemed dull and lifeless, hanging limply a little below her shoulders. Her emerald eyes, usually bright and vibrant, were cloudy and seemingly devoid of any feeling at all. Sighing, the girl turned to her computer. She logged on and went to her internet, logging into her blog.

Welcome back, Sakura!

The message flashed across the screen briefly before it disappeared. Sakura, pushing her locks out of her face, went to her private blog and started typing.

This story is about a girl. This girl is of average height, average weight, average money, average schooling, pretty much an all over average life. There was, however, one thing slightly different about this girl. See, she was closer, much closer, to perfect than most children in the 20th century. With that un-average fact in mind, you should be able to figure out that, now, most of the faults she did posses became magnified. The small problem she had with talking back became an issue that ruled her life at home. Her problem of closing up when she was upset became the center of her social life at school.

Those small issues, as previously stated, became engraved into her ever day life. Slowly, so slowly, her family would start to notice that instead of talking back, she didn't talk at all. Her friends would begin to realize they were shut outside of her world, cast into the role of people she didn't notice. Everyone would recognize the signs she was showing. What they would not notice is that the problems did not stop on the surface, or even in her mind. They began there, but they ended nowhere. The truth, ludicrous as it would seem to others, is that she was the problem. In her mind, she was the reason for all that was wrong.

Not only that, but she cost more money than her brother ever had. He had been free when he was born, because he was born while their father was still in the Marines. He didn't have to have braces, and he didn't buy $200 worth of books every two months or so. There were also the general female productions he did not need and the fact he didn't eat as much. He caused less trouble than she did. He didn't sneak of campus and get caught. He didn't get grounded every month because he talked back. He didn't go to his friend's house, get drunk, and totally screw up his relationship because he couldn't stop his loose tongue.

Anything that had gone wrong in her life, she could find a way to make it her fault. She did this, lived for this, and did this every day. She failed the math test? It definitely wasn't because her mother kept her at school to help her set up and take down the book fair until 8 pm, but because she went home and went straight to bed instead of staying up and studying. It was all her fault. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't, but the point was she thought it was, and it was tearing her apart inside.

She thought about suicide multiple times. Every time though, she didn't follow through. What if her friends fell apart with grief, without their peacemaker? How would her best friend get to drama on Wednesdays? What would happen to her father? Questions and uncertain things were the only things keeping her from killing herself. Maybe it was a good thing she was to compassionate and didn't ever get caught up in the moment and do something totally rash or insane. At least, that's what she thought. She was right.

Aren't I?

She finished typing, scrolling down to fill in the specifics of the updating. No, don't display my name. No, don't tell them any information that's on my profile. Yes, block the people on my friends list from seeing this blog. The questions went on, and she filled them in, her eyes staring at the screen blankly. Finally, she came to the end and she clicked UPDATE. Then she pushed back her chair. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and left the room, shutting off the light as she left. In the dark, the glow of her computer screen showed a message from an unknown username.

Want to talk?

END OF CHAPTER:

How was it? Let me know!

~!snow!~