Disclaimer: I don't anything in Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto is the man.

This is my first fanfiction that I've ever written. I'm excited and then I'm not... I don't know we'll see if I can finish this. Be nice, honest and humble eh? I definitely need a beta. Hit me up.

self-insert OC |


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Thoughts

'Talking'

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I remember waking up in my dingy little apartment, the tiny rivulets of rain drip from my ceiling riddled with holes and into various buckets and containers around my house. Looking at my bedside alarm the numbers 8:57 lash out at me. The handy man is supposed to be here by now... where the fuck is he? Just then the echo of knocking on wood reverberates down the hallway. In my fluffy bunny slippers and kitten pajamas I slink over to the door and thrust it open. Standing there drenched from the torrential rain fall is an overweight man with a jolly smile and a little girl who appears to be no older then 8 years of age. All I remember thinking in that moment is who the fuck ordered modern day Santa and his little helper? I did.

Kicking open the door I let the odd duo into my apartment- showed them what needed patching up and told them to get to it. I'm rather blunt. I know. Sometimes when I think back to that moment, I think that was the calm before the storm- the time of relative peace before shit hit the fan.

For a short time the rain let up, allowing Santa and his helper to heave themselves onto my shoddy roof and do some patchwork. In time the rain came back, much harder than before. It almost felt like miniature bullets were pelting you in the face constantly, despite my uncaring attitude I put forth all the time, I do care. And having an 8 year old slipping and falling to her demise from my roof didn't look to be in my best interests. Poking my head over the top of the roof to get a look at what was going on, why the fuck are they still up here in this downpour?! I don't think my heart has ever stopped like it did that night.

I came to a realization on this night. Fat people suck. They have no balance, they jiggle with every move they make and sometimes I feel like they can't control their breathing. This is probably why I had never really taken to Santa as a kid. Every time I close my eyes all I see is a bolt of lightning striking too close for comfort to Jolly ole St. Nick on my roof top, he collapses and knocks the little tyke by his side straight off the edge of my shingle clad roof. Straight To me. It's almost like just two seconds ago I felt that little girl ram into my body and send us sailing through the air. She was lucky. Blessed with a human cushion. Guess not everyone gets that pleasure. The last thing I remember was the flash of red and blue lights... and then nothing. Darkness engulfed my vision and I was gone to the world.

A part of me knows that what I did was the right thing. I did good by that little girl, she was too young to die. But so was I, at 17 my whole life changed and I became a teenager reincarnated.

The day of my death isn't the most pleasant memory that I retain within my tiny little head now. Sometimes I look back and wish I hadn't been so stupid. So noble. I wished for another chance. Oh boy, did I get another chance alright- I just didn't think fate would throw in a loophole upon my dying wish.


I NEED A BETA :3 Have a good day! I hope you enjoyed my prologue... You did didn't you? No? I'm sad.

Review for me please? I feel like I need some constructive criticism.