This story came to me when I was reading an old story that I wrote a few months ago for some ventilation. I had forgotten about it until I was going through my old notebooks and came across it. While it most likely won't be exactly the same as my original story it'll still be very similar. Not that any of you will know that but I just needed to say that. So enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto does.

Chapter 1: Realizing

You know that moment when you feel like at any moment that you're very, very fragile grasp on reality is slipping right out from your fingers. That moment when you realize that that thin string that is holding your sanity together is close to snapping. The people around me don't see what is happening. They don't see that my mind is being chipped away piece by little piece every single day. I wonder if this is how Itachi felt. Is this why he...

I have to stop thinking about Itachi. I have to stop thinking about that day. I have enough to deal with right now than to think about the past. What"s that saying? What happened in the past stays in the past? I'll think I follow that right now. I know that I should deal with my issues and my other demons but ignoring them one more day won't hurt anything. But I also said this yesterday...hn. Well, it was true yesterday so it'll have to be true today.

I'm surprised that I'm still functioning like a "normal" human being, functioning in the sense that I haven't been carted off to the nearest psychiatric ward...yet. I doubt anyone would care if that were to happen, well almost anyone. Those damn bit... I mean girls would probably be devastated that they're poor "Sasuke-kun" is gone. They would probably kill themselves if they couldn't stalk the object of their most sick and twisted desires. That actually wouldn't be too bad. If that were to happen I would be left alone. The psyche is looking pretty god right now. I'll have to think about this option some more.

If you haven't figured out by now, the nice thing would be to tell you. But...that would mean that I'm nice. I'm not. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I know it's not some inner voice that's begging to be let out or some subconscious cry for help. I don't beg nor do I need help. What I do need though is somewhere to vent and you just so happen to be lucky enough to have a chance to hear all of this. Good for you.