Terrifying Silence
i don't own naruto,but you probably knew that. I got the idea from "The Woman in the Wall" by Patrice Kindhl. I think.
My name is Hinata. If you're interested,would you be willing to listen to me,now older,complain? I need a listener. You can leave now,if you want. Well,to those who chose to care,here goes...
I never meant to be shy,never timid,never disappointing. I simply was never a memorable person. When I was a child,I never screamed and ran around unless necessary,never complained. I always,and still do,thought that was pointless. My family wanted a stress reliever,I could tell. So I became one. A dutiful,quiet,calm child who did what she was told. I went to school,just like the other children,I participated,if you could call watching them play and pretending to feel sick participating,with the others,I did everything like them. Almost. I was never a whiner,like them. I always thought,'Maybe if you spent a little more time working,and less time COMPLAINING,you'd get what Teacher was saying!'. I never said that out loud though. I thought that I could always help others,so I sympathized,pitied,and agreed with everyone. All that took it's toll. I became a stutterer. My "friends" started laughing at me. I was always so angry. I tried so hard to not put in my opinions. I had thought that I didn't matter,because that's what I was always told. Put down by the sickening bastards I have to call family. I was in high school now. My "friends" still made fun of me,and I couldn't do anything. They were the popular ones. I still hate their guts. Ino,Sakura,and Karin. Those stupid slutwhores. I hate them so much. I was always shaking slightly. It took all my will power not to slap them dead. I was always so quiet. I always tried to take away other's stress. I eventually forgot how to speak. One day,I opened my mouth to answer a question (the ONLY times I get to talk) and...I couldn't. I was sent to a psychologist,to try to help. HAH. Like I would start spilling my silent guts to a retard stranger. That is to say,I didn't start talking. I was mute for most of my life. I watched as my "friends" get drunk and got worse. In some way,I felt I was responsible. I thought that now,they had no one to complain to. All that stressed anger must have built up and finally,explosions happened. I felt that way. I then sank into depression. Now,I was mute AND depressed. That's when the real story begins.
I was home again. I started building a home within a home. I constructed elaborate hallways,well concealed drawers,and once, I sealed off three master rooms for myself.