Hello, readers! Yes, I'm totally aware of the fact that I haven't been writing much. Forgive me, lol.

This story does start out completely sad, hopeless, and depressing, but trust me on this, it CHANGES. The first two chapters are just starting up the story so you get a good idea of what poor Sasuke has grown up with. So don't be all, "This is too angsty. I'm not gonna read it anymore."

GIVE IT A CHANCE! I PROMISE YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED.

Chapter 1...The Good Old Days.

I remember it perfectly. I was sitting in my room on the floor prying through all my little toys looking for all the colorful building blocks. Each one was stacked on top of a bigger one until there were no more left to pile up. I'd carefully tear it down and try to find a more efficient way to build it up again.

Then, my mother came in with her face flaring with anger. Her sleek and neat dark hair was pulled back into a bun, but some hair had recently gotten free of its hold and flew around her face, giving her a stressed out appearance.

She stormed up to me and kicked my blocks down and snatched my shoulders and pulled me up with my feet dangling helplessly below.

"What the hell are you doing!? I thought I told you to do your homework! This," she kicked my box of toys across the room and I winced when all the stuff inside smacked the wall. I could feel her nails sinking into my skin as she tightened her grip. "is not homework!!"

I was crying with fear. I could already tell she was ready to hit me. She always did when I did something she didn't exactly like. "Momma, I did. I did do my homework. I promise, I did!" I could hear my voice trembling.

She began to shake me violently as she spoke again. "Then you should be studying! I don't want an idiot son! You have to have top grades! Understand!?" I nodded repeatedly until she dropped me like trash onto the hard wood flooring.

"Get to work! And clean up this room. It's a total mess and disgrace!" She gave me a small but rough kick to the side as I sobbed. "Stop it! You look pathetic. What a son I have, tch." And then she left.

That was when I was four or five. I can't exactly remember. Then there was this one time when I was... eleven? Yeah, that sounds about right.

So I was walking home from school and I saw this kid Kyo close behind, so I waited until he caught up with me. Man, he and I couldn't have been much different in terms of appearance back then. I have no idea where he is now, but whatever.

His hair was this wild silver and white mix that was spiky and shit, and his eyes were this extremely light blue. Me, on the other hand, I have black as hell hair and matching eyes.

I guess I get it from my dad, since my mom has dark blue eyes. Everyone says I get my hair and eyes from my dad and everything else like my face and thin figure from my mom. Whatever, I get my spiky hair from my uncle, I think.

Anyways, we were talking about this one kid who had a huge wedgie today, but no one ever said anything. We were laughing so hard, I think the whole neighborhood heard us. Well, we finally were at my house in front of the familiar tall gates.

I said bye to him and continued on my way toward the door as he kept walking home a few blocks up. I went in and saw my dad glaring at me from the sofa as he smoked a long cigar. I could feel his anger radiating off of him, creating a very intimidating atmosphere. My stomach was already churning.

He gruffly gestured for me to get closer. I swallowed hard as my mouth went dry and I silently did as instructed. "Sit." He demanded. I sat on my knees in front of him with my eyes fixated on my hands in my lap.

Suddenly, I felt my hair almost ripping at the roots as he yanked my head up so I was looking straight into his eyes. "Why are you so late?" His voice was poison in my ears. It burned and stung with intense pain.

"I was only talking-" He yanked my hair back so my neck my straining and a few hairs finally ripped. I yelped in surprised, yet expected pain. "Don't you ever talk back to me! I will not tolerate such foolish behavior such as this nonsense you tell me! You are to come straight home! I don't want you slacking off and acting like a moron for the whole world to see. Understand?"

That's one thing about my parents that will always piss me off. They'd always say, "Understand?" It just got so annoying after they'd say it over and over again, y'know?

"Give me your arm." He demanded. I knew what was coming and was almost stupid enough to hesitate and not give him my arm. He narrowed his eyes at the circular mark that was a fading red. It had been a week or so since the last time he had punished me this way. I guess he was ready for it again. Too bad I wasn't..

He plucked the smelly cigar from his mouth and stamped the burning end right on the scar. I bit back a scream as my arm was screaming inside with the unbearable searing pain raging up it. He finally put the stupid cigar back in his stupid mouth.

"Now go to your room and do your homework. Don't come out until your completely done." He shoved me away as I ran with tears streaming down my cheeks as I turned away running.

Another thing about my parents that I will never understand is that everything that I did would automatically affect my grades, future, family reputation...anything and everything. I couldn't play with my friends after school, I always had to study, study, study. It was like, if I didn't go over the entire textbook every single night, I'd be the idiot of the bunch.

But what other choices did I have? More cigar burns? Another bruise that would be tender and visible for weeks? And in the end, I'd still have to go over my books..

And don't think I'm just gonna take this quietly. No, I'm leaving. Just as soon as I turn sixteen. Then I'm leaving. Gone for good.