K.L.K- okay, I decided to write something angsty, alright? if it scares you, RUN AWAAYYY...uh, yeah.
Sakura- is this about me?
K.L.K- yes, it is. Sakura-centric, for the most part...I think...rated M for suicidal-ishness and self-cutting, and depression...and OTHER things that will make you barf.
Sakura- authoress say what now?! O.O this scares me...
K.L.K- don't own, don't sue.
Haruno Sakura, no longer the apprentice of the Godaime since she had passed the training and surpassed her, and could most definately take her down now without too much of a bother, glowered at her reflection.
green eyes, pale skin without a scar, pink lips, shoulderblade-length hair put into a spiky high ponytail with the bangs over her left eye, nearly hiding it, and the pitch black clothing she wore.
she hated herself. she always had, really. she'd hated herself as a little kid, and as a teenager, and even when she had helped save Gaara. she hated herself more than she hated her parents for dying on her when she was four, leaving her to fend for herself, and the rest of her clan for kicking her out, disowning her, and then getting killed by her so easily when she was five.
that had been on Amegakure, though. she'd left a little sister of her's to kill her when she became strong enough, and she felt the faint signal coming from the girl, hatred pulsing in every step the younger girl took.
there was something that she hated herself for then anything else. this...thing...in her other than her Inner, and it dispised her the same. that's all that kept them alive.
the pinkette was now eighteen. younger than twenty, older than a teenager. she remembered when the memory block she had placed on herself gradually dissapated, until she could finally remember everything. even where she'd hidden her favorite Katana, in that tree near to where she had buried her clan.
the clan that had abused her so, until she couldn't take it anymore. she killed in self-defense, without the thing in her helping once. she knew that she was a bit evil and tainted, but hey, wasn't every shinobi?
she picked up the razor in the bowl of rubbing alchohol she kept by her hated mirror. she placed a pale, scarless wrist in front of her, and slowly dragged it deeply across the tender flesh, hissing in delicious pain as the cut burned from the rubbing alchohol inside the wound.
she watched the blood, the bright ruby-red crimson life fall from the wound, glittering in the single candle-lit light she had in the room, her curtains blocked and drawn so nobody could see. she held the wrist carefully to the flame, as to not let the blood put the light out, and held it straight into the flickering flame atop the wick.
she closed her eyes with a manical grin on her face, her fangs growing longer and longer as they nearly punctured her soft pink lips. she cut her other wrist, pouring some salt onto the cut as well as the rubbing alchohol, and rubbing it into the slice in the reddened, agitated flesh. she took her tongue and licked the cut, even inside it, pain blooming like poison in a bloodstream all through her arms.
she moved her burn away from the flame, and sliced through the charred flesh. the Inner self was wailing, "NO! NO! SAKURA STOP IT NOW!"
the thing in her snarled, demanding more blood for the bloodlust the two had, while the Inner self cried, curled into a ball against a wall.
the Outer grinned malevolently, and looked at her reflection, and her grin widened more than humanly possible as she ripped her clothing off and put the blade, dipped in rubbing alchohol and salt, against the soft, vulnerable skin near her sixth rib.
she dragged it through the flesh, cutting it like a heated butterknife through butter, and got a sadistic idea. she held it over the candle's flame, until it glowed white, and sliced the area where she had sliced through the flesh and showed the white, and bloodstained bone underneath, getting a whiff of burnt flesh when she swiped the skin over her collarbone repeatedly, then sliced her inner thigh, both of them, and then drew deep, intricate swirls and spirals on her legs all the way down them.
she then soaked her hands in the rubbing alchohol and salt-mixture and rubbed the substance all the way launguidly down her legs and her inner thighs. she walked over to the bloodstained tatami mat she used for a bed and opened a drawer in the dresser next to it pulling out a ball-gag and strapping it onto her mouth.
she didn't want the neighbors to bother her, now DID she?
she pulled out a scroll, and it poofed into a permanent clone of the thing inside her, and it held a training sword, a wooden one, with splinters clearly displayed on it.
the thing tied her to the bed with Chakra ropes, and then thrust the wooden object into her, making her bleed.
she moaned, unheard with the ball-gag, and kept doing so until her release. the permanent clone puffed back into the scroll, it falling onto the bloodstained floor, and the pinkette snapped the chakra ropes and put the ball-gag away with the scroll, chakra-sealing it. she cleaned up all the blood, and smiled at the sensation of burned skin, of the pain.
then the skin and everything healed before her eyes, the self-inflicted wounds and abuse dissapearing into memories. the pinkette scowled as the thing even healed her barrier, and the violated areas, making the splinters dissapear.
she growled with displeasure as the thing clawed at a spot deep in her mind, she caged it up before it knocked her unconsious.
this would happen again. after all, it was just her way of unwinding after a ANBU black-ops mission.
K.L.K- there. angsty, and not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. I didn't go too much into the self-rape thing, though. if you'd like to read the fanfic I've been writing that inspired this one-shot, PLEASE REVIEW!!
Sakura- (twitch) what in the hell?!
K.L.K- uhm... I'm, bored, and I'm not getting any e-mails...
Sakura- ohh...(vomits repeatedly)
K.L.K- REVIEW!
