(A short... Rant I suppose about Sakura and how she has coped with Sasuke's runaway. Wrote it quickly while I was in the mood to do something creative, and then forgot about it til' now. I'd prewritten the story, but thought Green Day's latest song fit it well. My first song fic too.
Disclaimer: All Naruto characters are copyrighted to their respective owners, and are not owned by me ;.;)
Little Girl, Little Girl
Why are you Crying?
Inside your restless soul
Your heart is dying.
Little one, Little one
Your soul is purging
Of love and razor blades
Your blood is surging.
A faint smile traced the corners of her lips, begging for a reason to turn her frown upside down, any reason at all. This look of disinterest, look of dejection, had hit everyone close to her, as did her seeming like a zombie. She knew it affected them, even hurt them, but she couldn't stop. But all alone, at the place of the incident, wanted to be wished into life. But it seemed it wasn't going to happen, as her lips resumed a depressed stance. Pink, once held back with a smiling, pleasing red bow, now tasseled and wild over her deamour, making her appearance a frenzied one. The bow, ripped out from it's once pink home, getting drenched in the pouring rain from the heavens. The hair alone didn't wreck her image, as she laid there on the cold hard ground, staring pointlessly at an emptied spot. Her body laid on the soaked concrete floor, limbs spread like an eagle spread out. Her eyes burned, green emerald eyes blazing with distraught and anger, filled to the brim with tears of depression. Her once bright and happy cheeks puffed a fluorescent red, out of anger and frustration, all over one boy. No, over one idiotic, simple, destructive, pointless, and, and... So many other curses, words, phrases could be used to describe such a being, but she had just one.
Runaway
From the river to the street
And find yourself
With your face in the gutter
You're a stray for the Salvation Army
There is no place like home
When you got no place to go.
Not as depressed. Not as angered, her temper under control, but grown so very much. More than a trace, more than a faint smile upon her face, one of pure happiness, but often overtaken by the surge of wonder, sometimes worry. Emerald eyes now drenched in awe, inspiration, with hope and ideals clenched in a strong heart. No longer she the young girl, in appearance, the one that's left behind on the side lines, watching and cheering on her team-mates as they are ripped and sliced. She, the first to defend, and instantly heal her allies. Her strength, the natural undoing of her enemies, an instant K.O. Able and willing this time around, skilled and tested. No longer crying tears of deprived attention. Her pink strands no longer tied back by an innocent red bow, after all, who could wear such a childish, innocent bow when these soft spoken hands have shed blood? Killed, destroyed, taken. Memories flash across her visage from time to time, reminding her of what she's done, of what he's taken from her. Of the runaway that fled.
The traces of blood
Always follow you home
Like the mascara tears
From your getaway
You're walking with blisters
And running with shears
Runaway.
That's all he'd always be, and always remain as. A power hungry, deprived, moronic boy. Never a man. He'd never be a man until he caught up with his vile actions, and that was highly unlikely. Running from danger and seeking solace with the most notorious of men, a monster's personality twisted into a weak human mind.
So unholy
Sister of Grace
Song: Viva La Gloria [Little Girl] Green Day