AN: This is just something I came up with when I was bored. Besides, mum wanted something I wrote that I would let her read. Lets see if it up to par eh? Tribute to mum's and all the terrible things we put them through!! Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN INUYASHA…. sigh must we always do this…

Tiny fingers gripped the bright yellow plastic with a hardcore determination that the little boy held deep within the back of his mind. His soft skin had always been beaten up, scratched and bruised simply because of his stubborn attitude and his disapproval to leave anything untouched or unexplored. His gentle curly hair curled around his mothers loving touch as big innocent eyes looked up at her and seemed to sparkle at the sight of her. The boy dropped the puzzle piece that had been confusing him for a few moments, too long for his small hyperactive attention span, as his mother let go of the pale curl and hold her arms out just in time to catch the little angel who threw his arms around her shoulders, and stood on top her folded legs. Her soft shirt rubbed against his chubby arms as he let out a giggle, soon followed by his mothers ringing laughter. Her long fingers tickled under his armpits gently and in reply he let out a burst of laughter and a few "mommy! Stop it!"s. she let out a loud giggle and pulled him into a tight hug that he happily returned, squeezing with all his might as if to say "look it mommy! I'm getting big and strong again!" A small tear trickled down her suddenly solonm face as she whispered, "I love you". 'I wonder how long he'll be this way. So pure and unharmed, innocence radiating off every step. Along with that confidence of his. Wish he would share some with me. I do not think I can bear to leave him here. It's too horrible for any child to go through. I just don't want him to go though this. He deserves so much better…' A soft whisper soon followed by the now calm little boy "I love you too mommy" she nestled her nose in his little nestles of fair hair on top of his angelic little head. He pulled back after a few moments and put his warm gentle fingers on his moms wet face and said "don't cry mommy. me no like it when you sad." She fixes him with an adoring gaze and kisses him on his forehead then tenderly pulls his hands away and stands up slowly. She puts him back into the small bed and pulls back the white sheets, tucking him in like old times. Her hand ran over his smooth cheek as a tear splashed across it's surface, his eyes growing sad. "don't leave me again mommy. I wanna go home." Tears broke free from her eyes as they looked back and forth from each other, each secretly knowing somehow that he was going to stay, each secretly knowing that they thought of each other every second of the day. As she walked to the door she whispered "good night my love. Sleep tight." Years later Long pale fingers gripped the pencil in frustration as a young teenage boy stared straight at the sheet of paper held before him. The pencil snaps as he finished reading the page, his eyes growing hard with anger, rebellion, and rejection. He threw the pencil halves to the side carelessly as he stretched his legs out beneath the table and buried one hand in his long locks of soft, curly hair, and the other held onto the arm of the chair as if afraid that the news on the paper would cause such a chock that he may faint. A woman reached out from the other side of the table and placed her warm hand on his own and watched as some tension was released from his shoulders. She gave a worried frown as she watched her husband beside her turn red. She put her other hand on his arm and said calmingly "dear," he looks up from the copy of the paper that he held in his hand, his knuckles turning white, "there are tons of other schools around, I'm sure we can find a school much better than the one he was going to. I didn't like the teachers much anyways." She ended with a hopeful smile that she wished her husband would take notice of and let go of some of the anger he held in. The boy scowled, he didn't care much for school, it was a pointless worry to him. He knew he wasn't going to make it in the world; his math, science, english, and everything else, was horribly terrible. He never had a chance in the world of finance, money, jobs, and responsibility. He had never been good at that either. At age sixteen he'd snuck out of the house, and gotten a lip piercing. When he was at the tattoo parlor for it, he thought that he might as well go all the way, so he now had so many tattoos on his body, he couldn't remember which he got first. Maybe it was the Chinese dragon curling around his biceps? Or the words 'Keep The Faith' on his back? Or the emblem of his favorite band, the misfits, on his ankle? Only God knows now, that's for sure. His true passion was the music. The music that had been kept from him his whole life. Because, contrary to popular belief, the messy teenage boy that had just been kicked out of the fifth private school, was one of the deepest people ever to see the sun. But, after all, they do say, that when you understand things as well as he did, . . . You go mad. . . . AN: THANKS FOR READING! I need at least two reviews to finish, im so busy that I don't have time to update all my storys. SO REVIEW PLEASEEE!!