A/N: Well, this is my fourth story. As with most of my other fics, this isn't what one would call a happy story. Despite this I hope you all enjoy reading it. Also disclaimer stuff, I own none of these characters, concepts, or anything of significant value.

Nothing. No matter how many times I try, it doesn't work! As soon as the knife nears my skin, that obsessive sand intervenes. It always does, time and time again. There's not a drop of blood. The only pain I ever feel is the kind ripping my heart to shreds inside my chest, the kind pounding inside my skull. I want it to stop. I just want the pain to go away. Why won't they let me sleep? Why can't I die?

All I want to do is die. Everyone wants me dead, so why must I keep on living? No matter how many times I try, no matter how many times they try, I continue to live on. But I don't really feel alive. I might as well be dead. Maybe I am dead. That makes sense. It explains why the assassins always fail, and why I can't kill myself. I can't die if I'm already dead.

I don't feel dead though. And why do the assassins keep coming night after night? I guess that means I'm not truly dead then. But I don't feel alive, and I'm not quite dead. It seems that all I do is merely exist. But then, why do I exist. What point is there to my existence? Why couldn't I have ceased to exist when uncle Yashamaru asked me to? I don't understand this. Somebody help me. Please … anybody … help…

Poor Gaara. Who said that? The only person on this rooftop is me. The throbbing in my head is getting worse. You shouldn't be worrying yourself over such trivial matters. Who are you? You will never die; never cease to exist with me around. What proof is there that I exist? How do I know if I exist or not? Can you sense the man climbing up the building? It's another assassin. He is coming to kill you. To him, your existence doesn't matter. To him, you will soon cease to exist. Why don't we show him how real your existence is?

Turning around, I watch the assassin vault over the railing. He seems a bit surprised I noticed him, but doesn't hesitate to form the seals. Seconds later, multiple translucent blades slice through the air in my direction. They slice into the ever protective wall of sand, leaving only little scratches before bursting into a weak breeze. A smile creeps onto my face as I realize how powerless he is against me. This weakling is what questions my existence? It only takes a second before the wave of blood and gore splash against my outstretched arms and my face.

Good job Gaara, you're such a good boy! He questioned your existence, and we showed him just how wrong he is. You're right. If I can kill someone who questions my existence, then he obviously has to be wrong. If no one can question my existence, then that must mean I truly exist. You're such a smart boy Gaara. Continue to exist, to kill, and make me proud. Yes m... mother, I will continue to make you proud. I will kill anyone who questions my existence. Alive or dead, this self-loving carnage will never cease to exist.

A/N: I thank any and all of you who have read this all the way through. I appreciate any and all reviews. I especially enjoy the constructive reviews and those that praise my work.