ME: So…Hi. This is a new idea I'm toying with. My inspiration came from a story: "…Forever…", and a fanfic with something to do with Vitamin Water. If you ever come across it, I highly recommend it. Very well-written.
DISCLAIMER: If I ever say I do own Naruto, I hold it under your responsibility to slap me.
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A New Life
Written By: ThE eArTh SaYs HeLlO
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Chapter 1:
I snap up, my face drenched in sweat. My hand still slightly quivering, I wipe the sweat off. I check the alarm clock. It's only six o'clock. And it's Monday. I have plenty of time to get dressed.
I lay in bed for a while, not really thinking or sleeping, just lying there. Kind of like a terminal sleep, like a daydream. Only, I'm not really dreaming. I'm just kind of…lying there, curled up in the soft green hotel blankets.
Five minutes later, I sort of ease out of my strange…terminal sleep and drag myself out of bed. Like, literally. My legs have this problem in the morning. They won't stop shaking.
But thankfully, my arms are fine.
Shaking myself out, I stretch, taking special care with my hamstring. I lean back over my bed, and sweep the curtain aside, peering at the outside world.
It's still dark. I love it like this.
The night is just so…so…blue.
Everything glows blue. Because of the lamps outside and my adjusting pupils, the whole world looks blue.
I take my baggy shirt off, and put on a sports bra. There's no need to wear a shirt, because no one will be watching. My shorts are fine. They're loose enough to be comfortable, but not so loose that when I sleep, they back up against my butt.
That can be SO uncomfortable.
Grabbing my keys and my iPod, I rush out of the hotel room, and skip down the hallway to the elevator. I walk through the hallways slowly, stopping every once in a while to leap behind a pillar, or a trashcan, every time someone comes in sight.
Reaching the revolving doors, I whirl around a few times, enjoying myself like a small child, when I realize a bellhop is eyeing my abs, and elbowing his fellow…bellhops.
Ducking down, I try my best to look fat to discourage any come-ons, and sprint out onto the sidewalk.
I tuck my keys in my waistband, and start to jog.
Jazz is my favorite music. It is very comforting, the varied sounds rising in a crescendo, flowing fervently. The saxophone is one of the coolest instruments, ever. Well, only if you know what you're doing.
I tried it in 6th grade. Not a good sound.
I play the clarinet. It's kind of like the sax.
The flute is too…cliché. You know? Like, everyone plays the flute. Who is a girl. And who's not in orchestra.
Time passes by as I jog around the area of town, passing a playground. Somehow, I see someone in the shade of the slide. There are curls of smoke rising in the air, giving the scene a ghostly, foggy look.
I shudder, and increase my pace. I can see the man's red eyes looking after me, tracing my figure, analyzing my emerald eyes, my pale skin and cute nose.
Of course, he wouldn't know who I am later, because of the hat covering my head. Also, the glowing iPod screen had to have distracted him a little from my features.
Humming and singing along to the song, I rush back into the room, and hustle into my room.
I kind of drag my feet all the way to my bathroom, and quickly strip and hop in. The cold water blasts immediately, so I back out.
I turn the knob to the hottest possible temperature and lay outside on my rug until the hot water starts running.
Afraid to get burned, I tip-toe into the stall, my back on the wall. I put my hand under the water, the other hand adjusting the knob to the perfect temperature. I walk in completely and sigh.
The water is like heaven. Like clouds. And like marshmallows. Roasted marshmallows. Smores.
I lather my hair with shampoo and conditioner, rinse, and step out. I grab a towel, and dry myself, wrapping the towel around my body.
I stand in front of the mirror, examining my face, flexing my biceps and triceps. Just to say, they're not that fabulous. I should probably work out more. Not so much that I look like a guy, but enough so that I look less wimpy.
But, I'm happy with myself.
Not to brag or anything, but I am pretty. Maybe not so beautiful, but definitely pretty. My hair is long. I'm tall. My legs are nice, except for my knees. But, I have this tinting moisturizer crap, so it's all good.
My face is average-ish. My feet are normal. My hands are a little too big for my liking, but I'm satisfied.
I take what I get, and use it wisely.
When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. When life gives me lemons, I store them for winter.
I grab a brush, and quickly run it through my hair, making sure to be rid of all of the tangles, and smooth it down. Then I wrap it up quickly, making sure to not let it drip on any of my clothes or the floor.
Then, I do this hooker-dance across my room (one of those dances that you only do when someone's not watching), and open my suitcase, looking over all of the clothing I have stored in there.
I just sit there for a while, looking at everything in there and wondering exactly what happened to my favorite Snoopy shirt.
And so, I'm just sitting there, tapping away at my chin, in that thoughtful way that Winnie the Pooh always has, and I sigh.
But, it doesn't really matter what I wear. It just has to be age-appropriate. Right.
Closing my eyes, I grab some random clothes. When I open them, I shudder.
It isn't a very good idea to wear fishnet stockings on your first day.
I grab a comfortable, but complimenting pair of skinny blue jeans, drag them on, and then trot back across the room with my shirt in hand.
I set it down, and carefully slide open my underwear drawer.
Because my shirt is white, I can't get a colorful bra. I carefully select a nice, sort of darkish, sort of light-ish pink set of bra and underwear (yes, I buy my underwear in sets), and carefully latch them on.
I slip on the white shirt, and adjust it carefully, pulling down the shirt, and smoothing out the wrinkles. I grab a pair of ballet flats, and troop into the bathroom.
There, I set to the job of drying my hair. It doesn't take too long, and the effort is worth it. I carefully part my hair, and make sure that my clip holds my bangs in place.
I put on my shoes, and turn around slowly, revolving in the tiny room, checking out my appearance like a runway model, tucking in the tags.
Good. I look like any average girl.
Just an average girl.
My hair curls around my face perfectly and there are no stray hairs. I smoothed those down with some hair gel.
But, it's not like I'm a girly girl or anything. Well, I partially am, but there's nothing wrong with caring about your appearance. There are some days when I dress up, and some days when I just grab some sweats.
I just prefer to be neat. My clothes and hair in order. Everything. In order. Like my life.
And, I'm starting college. I have to look good on the first day. Then, people will know that I can look good when I try, and that I just look like crap because I didn't sleep. Or the coffee machine was broken. I need my macchiato.
Basically, I have to make a good impression.
I have to.
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I need to get to Tsunere's office. I think that was her name. I've only talked to her once, and it was just a brief greeting.
She was doing one of those connect-with-your-students check-up calls. But, I think she was drunk or something 'cause she told me her bra size. It's a lot bigger than mine.
There's one room, with a cracked sign hanging above the door, and I've walked around this admissions area like ten times. I should probably check this room.
I look around, and peer down the hallway. Nobody seems to be looking. If there's no one around, it won't even matter if I just take a peek in.
Who knows, I might discover a hidden treasure or something. Or I might just find the principal.
Cautiously, I yank open the door, and slam it back shut. I'm not sure why. I just did. Like it was reflex or something.
Grinning sheepishly, I reach for the doorknob. I feel so stupid. My face muscles are at hard work, trying to smooth out my grin. I have one thing to say. It's not working.
"You! How dare you shut the door on me!" yells a drunken voice.
Wow. The principal? No. No, no, no. No way. It must have been the janitor who called me or something. You know, prank calls?
"I'm sorry." I step inside, and look at the woman. Yep, her boobs are pretty big. Actually, REALLY big. She wasn't lying.
"What do you want?" she asks, leering at me, ignoring my apology.
"Um. I'm…looking for the principal."
She sort of drops off of her little yellow rolling chair and starts to ransack her desk. Apparently, she is the principal. And, she seems to be looking for something.
The room is pretty well-furnished, and it seems rather big. There's a window behind her desk, and you can see outside, at the whole town.
Well, at the ugly part of town. In fact, I could see someone getting beat up by a bunch of gangsters right now.
Been there, done that.
Suddenly, a younger woman rushes in and grabs the principal. I back up, and watch. The lady drags the principal, and motions for me to wait with her free hand.
I walk back outside, and set down my backpack, and slide down the walls, my back against the wall and my butt landing on the hard tiled floor.
I busy myself with fixing my pants. They've ridden up on the walk here, and they're starting to feel really weird.
As I'm moving my hands back to fix it, this guy walks by and he sneers at me.
It really wouldn't seem that weird, but he has pointy werewolf-like teeth, that protrude out of his mouth. And, he has some weird face-paint/tattoo stuff on his cheeks.
I just stare at him walking by, my hand frozen in shock, still reaching for my pants. I jump up, quickly adjust it, and sit back down.
Just a few seconds later, I hear a yell and a snarl, and I walk in the general direction to investigate. Unfortunately, I end up a bit lost.
I turn the corner, and crash into someone. He's just a little taller than me, with these really bright orange clothes on, kind of off-setting this blue headband on his head. His platinum blonde hair and his strange apparel make him look weirder.
He has these tattoo-scar-birthmark-whiskers on his cheeks, and they give him a cat-like look.
More tattoos. Maybe it's the new fashion or something. I don't know.
I'm a little pasado de moda.
I brush my thoughts aside, and jump back up. He's tottering weakly, and there's a hazy look in his eyes.
"Those assholes. I'll get them later. Why did they have to do that?" he mutters to himself.
Unknown to him, tears start to flow, and his skin starts to take on a red hue. Strangely, his teeth seem to get sharper, and his eyes start to dilate, looking like those of a wild animal's.
He leans back against the wall and coughs, blood coming out. He collapses, unconscious, against the wall. The iPod he was listening to still playing. I can hear some hard rock coming out through the earphones.
Fear strikes me. Hard.
I start to panic.
No.
No.
No.
No.
I run down the hallway, my backpack flapping and my shoes clacking.
My heart sinks with every stride, every step, a lump lodging itself in my throat, seeming to choke me.
He has to be okay!
I find the office/closet, and grab the secretary. Her mouth seems to be open to ask me why I'm crying, but no words form. I pull her along to the boy, and she gasps.
As she turns to me, her eyes seem to be full of sorrow. My eyes start to water and my throat starts to ache, and she softly nudges me into the Nurse's Office.
"Hold on. He'll be fine. Don't worry." She says, patting my shoulder.
I sit there silently, clutching my hands together.
After a while, she comes back, and comforts me. But, I block it all out.
I can't stop the memories from coming back.
Flashback
"Sakura!" a voice yells.
"Hey Sakura? Someone's calling you." says an acne-covered teenager who is with me.
"It's probably just God and his angels." I say, completely serious, taking another puff on my marijuana joint.
"Ahhh!" the voice screams.
My blood runs cold. Somehow, I know something terrible has happened.
I drop my joint, and stamp on it. I jog away from the group, and wave a lazy goodbye at everyone. Someone comes out from behind the shadows, and approaches me.
"What, Sasuke?" I ask, irritated, but high.
"You're my girlfriend. If you leave, I look bad. Don't leave."
"Why not?" I ask, grinning foolishly, not seeming to comprehend his statement. I continuously poke his shoulder.
He doesn't respond. Silently, he stands there, hands in his pockets, as if he knows that I'll come.
This irritates me.
"What is it Sasuke? I don't have all day!"
"God. You're so annoying." My face turns red at the comment, and I stomp away: half stomp, half stagger.
When I reach the corner, I start to smell blood.
My heart pumps irregularly, from the effect of the marijuana, and from fear.
What I see scares me the most.
My father is beat up, lying on the floor. His eyes in a bloody stare, never to blink or beam at me again.
I scream, alarming several passerbys' attention, and run away from the scene, afraid to be caught with weed.
They alarmed the paramedics, and he was taken to the hospital.
I never saw my father again. I was sent to my grandmother's house after the incident for rehabilitation.
I could never say goodbye.
End Flashback
My eyes gradually dry up and when the lady is sure that I am fine, she gently guides me out of the clinic.
She drags me back to the office, and seats me in a chair. Reaching out a hand, she begins her introduction.
"Hello. I am the secretary here, Shizune."
"Hi. Well, I'm Sakura Haruno, and I'm new here."
"How nice. The principal is Tsunade. And although she may not seem like much, she is quite powerful and very determined," she mutters under her breath, "when she's not drunk."
I stifle a laugh, and we sit there in silence.
The awkward atmosphere starts to bug me. I look at her, and she seems to notice it too. I hate when this happens.
Awkward. Strange. Unfamiliar. All multiple words for this atmosphere.
Suddenly, a pig bursts into view. It's pink. Very pink. Kind of like my real hair when it's not dyed.
"Her name is Tonton. Isn't she cute?"
"Uh…it's a pig." I say, dumbfounded, pointing.
"Yes. I noticed that." She says sarcastically, as if I'm the weird one. Well, technically I am, but she is too. I mean…never mind.
Another bang erupts from her office. The door bursts open, and out comes Tsunade.
"Where did you hide my stash of sake?! I thought you didn't know about it!" roars Tsunade, quivering in anger.
I rear back, and when she shifts her glare to me, I wave, timidly, pulling my shoulders in.
She marches up to me and grabs my arm, "Do you know where she hid my beer?"
"Uh…no."
"I need my Heineken!"
She lets go of me and wanders out of the office, shutting the door with a slam, the doorknob dented in her anger.
"Well, I did say she was powerful." says Shizune, shrugging, as if this is a normal occurrence.
"I'll show you your class."
She walks out of the office, grabbing a sheet of paper, and hands it to me. She motions for me to walk along with her.
Reading the paper, I follow.
On the paper, it states the periods which I can have free, my class times, my rules and privileges, and my syllabus.
As we round the corner, she motions for me to follow her quietly.
She takes me into a lecture room, and whispers to me, "Sit down and listen. Kakashi may seem lazy at times, but he's brilliant."
I follow her advice, and sit down.
"Ima Hogg, although not too well-known, was one of the very important women in Texas history. She started fine-arts, and MediCare. She helped the sick and the poor. With a want of equality and inter-racial love, she petitioned for equal pay for teachers, regardless of race or gender." He pauses, "And…she was cute."
A few wolf-whistles rang out.
He holds up his hand, and continues, "Everyone, I want you to write a paper on any famous woman in American history. Remember, American history. Make it well-written. I want it typed, and on my desk by Wednesday. At least 3 ½ pages. And, no. No double spacing."
Everyone groans.
"Oh, come on guys. It won't be that hard. Women are very interesting." He says, his eyes lighting up in amusement.
"Yeah!" shout a few feminists in the back of the room.
"But, school just started!" yells a random student, apparently unhappy with the assignment.
"Exactly," Kakashi smiles, and says, "Class dismissed!"
Shizune smiles, and says, "You should go sign up for your classes pretty soon."
I grin and agree. I stand up, and straighten my clothes, reaching up on instinct to part my hair. I grab my backpack, and lift it onto my shoulder, and step out of the aisle of seats.
I accidentally bump into someone, and look up, my mouth already open to apologize.
His onyx eyes drown me in their dark depths, and I gasp. The all-famous smirk placed on his lips as he looks at me, his eyes eerily running up and down my body.
No way.
Him.
This is a joke, right?
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: So? Was it good? Bad? Please review. R&R. :D