I sat on the hard wooden floor clenching my fist to my ears and trying to stop the tears from flowing out. It had been hours already and my ass was sore along with my eyes. One would think that would snap me out of my breakdown, but I was only a little girl and could only handle so much.

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me!" My dad roared from the kitchen. I flinched heavily, but he wasn't talking to me. "You stupid bitch! I told you to have dinner ready!" My mom cringed and cried out in response to his tug at her long brown hair as she knelt down before him. The tears flowed faster as I listened to the sounds I had grown up with. Sounds I should never have had to hear, but was forced to witness. I should have grown up with the sound of laughter and beaming smiles. I should have been running around, unable to contain myself, but instead I'm kneeling down in emotional pain.

"I'm sorry! Please!" Her begs for mercy had no effect on the fury of my father. He continued to tug on my mother's once beautiful, but now worn and spotty, hair in an attempt to cause her pain. It worked. "It won't happen again!" This got a response from my angry father.

"You're damn right it won't! You'll learn you're lesson tonight." His rapidly calming voice did nothing to comfort me, it just showed how certain he was with his decision.

My mother's screams echoed through the house as I whispered to myself.

"Focus. Focus. Focus." I gulped heavily and a heard a loud smack. A deep breath out, and I started up again. "Focus. Focus. Focus." I learned about this from one of my dad's ninja friends, someone in his squad, I think. When you are in battle with someone you have to focus in on your enemy. He told be to breathe and chant a word that tells your body what to do. "Focus. Focus. Focus." On the floor. The dark lines that swirl through the, lighter than usual, brown colored wood. "Focus. Focus. Focus." On the smooth texture of my clammy hands against my tear tracked face. "Focus. Focus." I looked up at the white wall I had been against.

"Focus."

I winced as my father's fork stabbed into the rice my mother made unhappily. It was bad enough hearing the fights, don't make me see them. My dad didn't seem to mind one way or the other, though, as he voiced his thoughts loudly.

"Unbelievable. I wait all this time and you give me dry rice." My eyes welled with tears again. With her eyes aimed at the table and a shaky voice my mom struggled to answer.

"I'm sorry." Was all her defeated voice was able to whisper out. My father's disappointed stance changed into a hostile one, but I couldn't watch this any more. I was only eight, but I knew better to use ninja training to beat on your wife.

"Stop." My young, soft spoken voice struggled to tell my angry father. He paused, before turning towards me with surprised and disapproving eyes.

"What did you just tell me?" He finally got out after a long pause. My mom looked at me warningly, hoping I would stop and give up. But I couldn't, not when I had finally found my voice.

"Stop." My tone changed to one with power and force behind it, but a righteous force, unlike my father's usually heavy voice. My dad chuckled a dark chuckle, making me realize my mistake. I should've heeded my mom's warning. This was a mistake. Keeping my mouth shut would have kept me safe, at least. I went to run, but my dad was faster.

My head slammed onto the table as he forced it down with his heavy, trained fist. I let out a cry of pain, of helplessness. That was when I realized my dad was willing to hurt me, he just hadn't had a reason before.

"How funny, the whore breed an undisciplined brat." I whimpered as his hand forced my further down as emphasis on 'brat'. He leaned in real close and gave me an ominous smile. After a pause we whispered out, "We'll just have to fix that." My tears ran thick.

The next day my friends saw the bruises and kept their heads down. Their mothers and fathers saw my mom's matching ones and avoided us. My teachers didn't ask questions as my dad dropped me out of ninja school in the middle of class.

"She just doesn't connect with it." He poked me in the back with a sharp finger. "Right." I nodded quickly as my eyes filled with tears. My teacher looked at me worried, but ultimately decided I was just sad I had to leave my friends, not even bothering to glance at the large purple bruise on my forehead.

"Well." He gave me an easy smile, destroying my hopes that he would protect me. "We'll miss her, won't we class?"

"Yes." They mumbled back, not really caring. A boy with orange goggles glanced around worried. My hope returned, just a little bit. Would the class loudmouth point out what I desperately wanted to, but couldn't really risk in the long run? He opened his mouth a little, just to deflate and look down, ashamed. I was sad, but understood why. No one would listen to him, they would shoot down his words and make it seem like it could never happen. At least he wanted to. I made eye contact with him and gave him a small nod, his eyes widened as he did the same.

At least someone cared. And an Uchiha, believe it or not.

Pain ebbed from where my father's heavy shoes landed. I gasped as I tried to regain my lost breath and ease away from the pain. Focus. Two years had passed and my coping methods were still the same.

"That's what you get." He went to walk away when I coughed out and tried to gain back my normal breathing pattern. He looked back at my limp body, paranoid. "What did you say?" My eyes widened and I shook my head repeatedly.

"Nothing." I coughed. "I swear." I managed to get out through the pain that began setting into my stomach. My dad walked back up to me with disgust.

"You liar. What did you say!" He kicked me again, stealing away my breath and making it harder to deny that I had said anything, harder to tell the truth.

"Nothing!" I shouted in between gasp. It was getting worse, harder, less time passed in between blows.

"Liar!" He screamed out, unaware of how paranoid he was being. My dad didn't care what I said any more. Now I was being punished for possibly saying something. When the blows reached my face my screams turned louder and more desperate. My father didn't like to hit my face. He was going to kill me, I had thought. I squirmed around until his left foot found its way into my eyes and stayed there. Over and over, keeping me still in shock until he was panting and finished for now. "Bitch." His heavy footsteps marched away, leaving my bloody and bruised on the floor.

Finally, once my dad had been gone for more than a few minutes, my mom darted forward and took my head in her hands. She ran her hands along my face, taking n my bruises and trying to bring some relief to my hot face with her cold fingers.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry." Her broken voice brought tears to my eyes and I went to open them so I could reassure her that this wasn't her fault, even if I wasn't so sure any more.

I opened my eyes, but the room stayed dark. My hands reached up to my eyes, they were open but I couldn't see anything. I grew frantic.

"Mom. Mom. I can't see! I can't see!" I screech out from my already sore throat. My voice cracked multiple times as I repeated the cold truth over and over. At home, one the walk over to the hospital, in the waiting room, and on the way back home.

I would never see again.

A/N- First chapter of the official Blind story! That's right, it was so popular and loved by at least two people, so here it it. You win, sort of. It'll probably be a short story still, but remember to-

COMMENT/VOTE/REVIEW/FOLLOW! It's the only way I know you guys are liking everything!

This was more of a before everything happened in the original blind story happened kind of thing. Two more of these before we move on to the original Blind chapters (Edited of course). And then three more chapters after everything happened. Then we go from there.

What do you want to happen? Help me write what you want to see!

We made it guys!

-Kiki

******I DON'T OWN NARUTO OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!******