Um, yeah, my first attempt at an actually serious fic. I have no idea where this is going, so if you have any ideas or suggestions, feel free to tell me! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Hinata wouldn't have a stutter. (Yeah, you'll notice that in this.)

I swung gently back and forth, while gripping the papers tightly to the notebook resting in my lap in a mostly-successful attempt to rescue them from the wind that was tugging at the thing pages. I closed my eyes and pumped my legs to swing higher, and waited patiently for the much-needed inspiration to write the last chapter in my book. Before long, I lost my balance due to the lack of grip on the chains of the swing, and was forced to open my eyes to the last few blinding rays of the sun that was sinking behind the evergreen trees, which now looked black due to the lighting.

I sighed as I watched the sky turn a vibrant purple; I would have to head home soon, and I still hadn't written anything close to the dramatic ending I wanted for my book. I stared up at the sky in some sort of desperate prayer for help, before gathering my books and pencils, slowly standing up to leave, and beginning the long walk home.

The park I was in was one of the few places I could escape my prison of a house. After we moved, the chances to get away became less and less. Unfortunately, I knew it would only get worse; school started in a measly few days. Just thinking about the extra responsibility of keeping up with school work and activities made me feel more exhausted than I already was, which, considering what time I had to wake up to escape, was saying something.

I had been either tortured or completely ignored by my "fellow peers" at my previous school, and I couldn't see any reason why this school should be any different; after all, I was still going to be two years younger than the rest of the students in my grade.

You see, my family owns a large business company, and my father thought it fit to have me educated at the age of two. As a result, when I enrolled at a public school, they placed me in second grade instead of kindergarten. I was five.

Since then, I have been hated by everyone in the school, except for the occasional teacher taking an interest in my seemingly remarkable intellectual level. I learned quickly, memorizing the information in a matter of minutes, was never required to study, and had acquired a larger vocabulary than some of my classmates could ever hope to have. Of course, when I explained what the word meant they thought I was just stuck-up.

Feeling left out, I attempted to make friends by offering my assistance to anyone and everyone I thought might possibly need or want it. They believed I was just looking down on and mocking them. So, they hated me, and my abilities, further. So, I used the only defense I had. I read.

Reading turned into something somewhat of an obsession. I was rarely seen without a book of some sort to read, and when I was, I had a notebook for writing.

Writing came naturally to me, most likely caused by the fact that I read so much. I quickly found the downside of reading just before I wrote; the more I read, the less inspiration and originality was put into my writing. So, I started isolating myself from any books at least two hours before even attempting to write. This caused the frequent trips to the park.

I slowed as I neared my house. Well, it's not really a house. Mansion would be a more fitting word. Anyway, I was really dreading going home, because I knew as soon as I walked in the door, I'd either be bombarded by questions from Hanabi, my little sister, yelled at by my cousin, Neji, or given the silence and glaring treatment from Father. Or all of the above. Oh, how I pray the living room is empty. Of course, since when are my prayers answered?

I shouldn't have jinxed myself. Not only was everyone in the living room, they were apparently all waiting for my return from what Father calls "useless leisure time." Needless to say, my father is very strict, occasionally to the point where it's ridiculous. I wasn't kidding when I said my house is like a prison. They even went so far as to put bars on my window, although I couldn't have gotten out anyway, because of the fact that my bedroom is located on the second story. I'm still a bit miffed at Neji about that.

As soon as I walked through the door, Father began glaring at me, and Neji and Hanabi interrogated me. The only things I caught were "Where have you been?!", "Did you finish the book?", and "I told you not to leave the house!". Yeah, I have an over-protective family.

I laughed nervously and answered questions until everyone quieted down, then slipped off to prepare dinner. Today was Father's favorite, spaghetti...

I lay on my bed in the middle of my stark-white room, diary in hand. I scribbled furiously into it, desperate to rid myself of the negative thoughts.

I really despise my father at times. I mean, really, banning me from ever going to the park again? That's ludicrous! He acted like I had snuck out to go meet some friends at a concert to get drunk and smoke. I went to a park, alone, in the middle of the afternoon to write, and was home a good fifteen minutes before dark. I think he's just mad because I snuck out. Damn his over-protective-ness.

I sighed and stopped writing. I just wasn't in the mood any more. God, there must really be something very wrong with me. My thoughts strayed back to what had gotten me into the mess; the park. I arrived there at about four in the morning...

(Begin Flashback in Third Person)

Hinata quietly scrambled over the fence in her backyard, while managing to scrape a bent wire over her wrist in the process. She winced, but quickly recovered and began the short jog to her destination. Upon her arrival, she notice a lone tree, a great oak, some part of her added absently, standing on the very edge, blocking the light from the sky with its glowering shadow. She could have sworn she saw a figure crouching on a branch a few seconds ago... She brushed the thought away, assuming it was just her imagination. Little did she know, there actually had been-and still was-a tall figure watching her with demon-red eyes from above...

(End of Flashback and Third Person)

Okay, end of chapter! I think this is the longest thing I've written so far... Anyway, please review!