Part 1- Why me?
"What are you talking about?" The young red haired boy didn't understand
"It's simple, whoever draws the lowest number from these cards has to buy Baki's birthday present." The blonde haired girl stated, as though the two younger boys were complete idiots
"I'm not an idiot, don't speak to me like that." Ordered the red haired boy
"Or what, you'll kill her?" joked the other boy, he covered up his hair with a hood that had pointed ears
"Maybe…" He stared at them with a threatening look in his eyes; then suddenly, he burst out laughing.
"Gaara! You scared me!" the blonde haired girl scolded him
"I'm sorry Temari, it's not as though I meant it" he picked a card at random from the ones Temari had laid out on the floor, he looked at it, "nine…" he smiled and got up, "I'll be back in a minute."
"But you need to know who wins," objected the hooded boy
"Kankurou, I already know that I don't need to get the present. There are ten cards. No doubt Temari numbered them from either one to ten, or zero to nine. Either way," he smiled, "I win." He turned around and left.
He walked down the corridor, he could hear shouts coming from the room he had just left, "heh, guess Kankurou lost…" He carried on walking until he came to a door. He clasped the handle. "It's cold…"
He turned the handle and opened the door. He turned on the light and looked inside. The room was very boring, not that of your average 12 year old, not that he was an 'average 12 year old.' There was a bed, a bedside table, his gourd of sand and in the far corner there was a desk. On the desk there were a few pictures. There was a picture of himself, Temari, Kankurou and their sensei, Baki. Next to it, there was a picture of his mother; it was the only way he would ever get to see her. He picked up the picture and looked at it, "I'm sorry, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the only one who wishes I was never born." He put the picture down on the table.
He looked at the shougi board on the desk, Temari had been teaching him to play. Really he was better than her but he couldn't tell her. He picked up a piece and moved it. "I win." He moved the piece back so that Temari wouldn't know he messed with it.
He sat on the bed and stared at his gourd. He hated it so much it was unbelievable. He didn't need it when he was at home. He controlled the sand. In hidden sand village it was everywhere. All you hand to do was hold your hand out and you'd feel the sand hit you as it was carried on the strong winds of the wind country. He stared at it. It stank heavily with the odour of blood.
Out of nowhere a strong pain hit him, as though he was hit across the back of the head with Temari's favourite fan. He collapsed onto the floor, holding his head.
"I-I know, I haven't brought you blood in a while."
More pain
"I don't plan to bring you any either."
Another pain, this time sharper, more intense
"Go on, kill me, I don't care. I want to die anyway."
The pain started to fade away
"But you wont let me… When I was born you cursed me with this name. Gaara, the demon who loves only himself…"
The pain went away
Gaara sat up. He hated himself; he hated his father, his mother, the demon that he was sealed with. He hated everyone and everything. Not exactly. He didn't hate everyone.
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A/N-My Gaara fic, Gaara is so kawaii!!!