Sanity is Overrated

Author: Kinomi Akai

Disclaimer: Kay, seriously, read what I've written. Does it sound anything like Naruto?

Summary: Because sanity and silence cannot be together in a room. Once sanity leaves, it will not return; even with the retreat of silence. Drabble.

Parings: Absolutely nothing. This doesn't even make much sense.

Warnings: No sense, no sanity, need I go on?

Author's Note: This is the first drabble I've ever written, and honestly, it freaks me out.

It came from a song that has nothing to do with any part of this story.

I think I'm insane.

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It's suffocating, freezing silence. It may be comfortable and content to them, but they do not know. Nor do you.

Silence is never good. It's never okay, it's one of the greatest evils in this forsaken, inevitable death we call life.

It leaves time for thinking…for plotting;

And that is the cause for all wrong haunting us.

But they do not see, and nor do you. Oh you pretend, and I must commend you on some very nice acting, but it's fake. It shows in the ebony, hidden behind masks of indifference is emotion.

GASP.

Porcelain dolls do have emotion! Yes, I discovered your secret. The lies buried in blood, death, family, contempt, betrayal and hidden behind ebony eyes were far too easy to dig up. You, my friend, are losing your grip on death.

That one night. You remember it? At the dinner table, it was silent.

That's why he killed them. It was silent. Too quiet.

Kill or be killed. And he understood, as you did not, and most likely never will.

In this life, silence means death.

It hurts to listen to nothing. I can feel myself breaking under the pressure of invisible weight. It hurts…I can't breathe. My lungs are bursting, they're breaking.

I'm breaking…it's broken.

I scream. You all look at me, but I'm no longer there. I let fire control me, as I watch from the shadows, the noise of panic and screams is comforting.

They run. I'm gone.

We'll all go down into fire. I'm grinning with insanity.

Where's the fun in sanity?

No one is sane anymore. Not you, not them, not me.

We'll meet down in a fiery life. Simply delightful, excitingly delicious, isn't it?

The blade is brought down, slicing pale, white skin, as a twin pierces tan, dark skin.

My life was worse than death, so what does that make this?

Easy, it makes it life.

Fire is leading my body to the throne, I let it be led. The flame seems much more adept at handling situations than I.

I'm ready for my new life. My true mission.

Perhaps it was the fire corrupting my essence, but it has a nice taste.

Sanity is a bitter, disgusting word. Like truth. Painful, it burns when the clingy slime slides down the back of your throat. And yet so many choose it.

Why, when insanity is so much better? So much sweeter, so calming, so smooth; so good.

Sanity is overrated due to the homicidal soul that is silence. Tch.

Their loss if they didn't see it.

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Creeped out yet? I sure as hell am.

I felt like I needed to give some reassurance that I'm not dead. I am, in fact, working on quite a bit right now, so yea.