Heh, I missed doing drabbles and one of the things that my English teacher often tells me is that I should stop doing open endings... But I just love doing that so much! Well, just hope you like it! This was an Art Trade in DA with the amazing Sasu-Soul! You should take a look at her stories as well! She is pretty awesome!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters only Kishimoto. I just own the story that came out from little sick and twisted mind.

PRETTY FLOWER

I was being insulted again by all those horrible people. They were making fun of my stupid forehead and my weird color of hair. I hated myself. And all I wanted to do at that moment was die. Because my life had no other option. To commit suicide or to be killed.

I was hiding behind a tree. I was hugging my legs and had curled up in a ball, my bangs of horrible pink hair covering my stupid large forehead. Why wasn't I at school at that precise moment, you may ask? Yeah right, because my mom thought that I had a lot of friends but I just hadn't invited anyone over because I was too shy. The answer was quite simple: I hated that place just like I hated my hair, my forehead...

"Look at her large forehead and weird hair mom!" I heard a girl squeal in horror because of the view. I perfectly knew that she was referring to me.

"Honey, that's not the way you should treat people..."

"I know but-"

"But nothing... Now let's go home that your dad is waiting for the two of us..." the brunette woman with a very expensive purse answered.

'Dad'. That horrible word that brought back so many awful memories. Memories that I just wanted to throw away but couldn't. My dad had been a bastard to my mom and me. Ever since he had started drinking more than usual, he would hit my mom for 'cheating him with his best friend' when he was just hallucinating things.

I still had nightmares about that night, the night where our family finally broke to pieces. The night where my dad got arrested for a reason I still couldn't even understand. Maybe I am still too little for that. Or maybe my mom is way to occupied to tell.

Little rebel tears started to fall down through my cheeks until I felt warm thumbs wiping them out. The boy was around my age, his hair and eyes were the same color as ink and his skin as white as a piece of paper. He was so beautiful.

"Pretty flowers like you shouldn't cry..." the perfect stranger muttered. I looked up to see him more clearly and I felt how my cheeks got red.

He gave me a perfect smile and handed out a very beautiful flower. A flower I couldn't stop staring for the whole day, ever since he gave it to me.