Note to everyone: Thanks for reviewing! It means a lot to me and my best friend! Okay, so the song that inspired this entire Fanfiction was Hero by Superchick. And I had to modify the lyrics to make it fit Naruto more.

I had to change the 'she's' to 'he's'.

I'm sorry if you don't like that. :[

Warning!: cursing, cutting, suicidal thoughts, and medication abuse. This chapter is a lot deeper than the one before.

Btw, I highly recommend this song for anyone who is dealing with abuse of any kind, or even for someone who is witnessing abuse, and doesn't know what to do. I hope it helps!

Enjoy!

No one talks to him, he feels so alone.

He's in too much pain to survive on his own.

The hurt he can't handle overflows to a knife.

He writes on her arm, wants to give up his life.

Each day he goes on is a day that he's brave.

Fighting the lie that giving up is the way.

Each moment of courage her own life he see's.

When he throws the pills out, a hero is made…

Naruto ran a shaking hand through his unkempt hair. His breath was coming out in short, raspy breaths as he dropped the pink stained blade onto the swirling shower floor. The water flushed red, then diluted to the same color as the knife, before rushing down the drain. Naruto leaned backwards, letting the blood roll from his gaping wound on the inside of his wrist. The incise was small, but deep enough to bring a good amount of blood.

The world tilted slightly in front of Naruto's eyes, and almost in a trance, the small, fragile boy let his head roll along with the spinning reality. He sighed, letting his dreams and sorrowful happiness overtake him. It was like a drug, cutting. Naruto knew it was wrong, he knew that one day, he might cut too deep and never wake up from the fuzzy darkness, but he couldn't help himself. It brought a sudden burst of happiness that he rarely got to feel in real life.

In his world, everything was right, no one shunned him, he had a loving family, he would hold someone dear close to him at night, and he would everyday wake up to that same dream. But of course, this was inside of Naruto's head so knew it wasn't true. It would never be true. But, like so many times before, Naruto wished he could just cut, and then never wake up from his fantasy.

The blond sighed once more, before pushing himself upwards and turned off the running shower. The water had begun to run cold long ago, but Naruto had been so lost up in cutting, he hadn't noticed. He pushed open the door, and shuffled over to the cabinet that held all of his towels. Naruto pulled the fluffy white towel, and, with his unscathed hand, wrapped it around loosely around his middle. His injured wrist had faded into a dull throb of pain. He ignored it, of course. Naruto opened his medication cabinet, and pulled out a small white pills bottle. He stared at it as if was far away, and wasn't really there. And then he popped off the top, and downed six pills. He then turned to his dresser to find some clothes.

Once Naruto was dressed, and his sliced wrist wrapped thickly in gauze, the small boy wandered over to the sink for his daily vomit. It became a routine. Come home from school, cut, vomit, eat, then sleep it all off until morning where he would start all over again. Naruto had scars that ran all along his arms, vicious reminders of the past three years of cutting and slashing. He also had some on his legs, but he enjoyed it more where he didn't have to sit awkwardly to watch the blood file out.

The vomiting came and went, and soon, Naruto was fast asleep, his broken body resting.

Naruto's POV

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the aching in my wrist. I glanced down at my gauze-wrapped wrist, and winced at the pink staining that had bled through. I would have to re-wrap it before I went to school.

Gently, I unwound the gauze, and held my wrist up for inspection. The cut was dark, and inflamed, the torn flesh naked and red. It was pretty nasty. I dug around in my desk drawer, and pulled out my ever-dwindling supplies of medical care. I tightened the gauze one last time, before heading over to my closet to grab the torn and worn out clothes that I wore every day.

I managed to pull them on without disturbing my cut too much, but I still sucked in a quick breath whenever I did. I glanced over at my clock. The numbers 6:34 blinked in bright neon green on the cracked screen, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. There was no way on heaven or earth my parents would be up by now.

I grabbed my book bag, and shoved its regular contents inside, which consisted of a pencil case, books, three notebooks, and a pencil sharpener. Nothing too exciting, I hoped.

Not too exciting that Sasuke and his 'gang' would try to dump all of my stuff on the pavement again.

(Fact: 85% of girls and 76% of boys have been sexually harassed in some form and only 18% of those incidents were perpetrated by adults.)

There is one period that I absolutely hate. No, I mean despised. Sure, I dislike all of my other classes, since every time I answer and get it wrong, I hear the snickers of class. They all thought I was an idiot, but whatever.

Anyways, the most tormenting period of the day was actually quite easy. P.E. It was horrible. Why? Because every time I undressed, people would yell out those constant words.

"Don't look, fagget!"

"I see that bulge!"

"Stop inching for your lube!"

And then I would look like I was about to cry, and they'd just laugh. But the worst thing was the feeling. The feeling that every time my heart pumped, it felt like it was pumping ice through my veins, and halfway through, it would freeze up, leaving my fingers and toes numb. It hurt, above all. Everything hurt.

But, today was…different. People seemed extra sadistic. I don't know what it was. Maybe something was eating them up on the inside? But I got my answer when a kid yelled out in the dressing room.

"You're gonna get it today, fagget!"

My heart spasmed, and then began to pump faster. But the problem was that the ice in my veins wasn't moving, and I could begin to feel it piling up. The numbing spread to my arms, and then to my chest. I was absolutely terrified.

I whirled around, still in my school clothes, and bolted. I was halfway out of the gym door, when a hand grabbed the scruff of my neck, and dragged me behind the gym. I didn't have to know who those meaty, thick fingers belonged to. Chouji.

Sasuke and Neji were waiting at the back, leaning against an open dumpster. Crap, crap, crap. They both grinned at the sight of me, and sauntered over. And the beating began.

A fist smashed my face to the side, and another curled into my stomach. Chouji shoved my to the ground, stomped on my back. I screwed my eyes close, and breathed in sharply. They, literally, pounded me into the ground, before I felt large hands pick me up, and carry me over to the dumpster. Sasuke, grinning his sadistic, grin tossed me carelessly, probably thinking that I would whack just my knees on the side. But Neji must've thought the same thing, since he let go, and Chouji was left to send most of the strength to send me flying into the dumpster. But, I didn't go flying.

A sickening crack echoed around the walls as my head slammed onto the rigid side, and my arm sliced open on the torn metal. The laughter outside of the garbage can instantly ceased. Blood was rolling down my forehead, and oozed from my arm. The arm I had cut just last night.

Darkness began to fade in as if the sunset was being sped up. But when I looked up, I met dark, wide, obsidian eyes, and then I slipped into the night.

Okay, sorry it's rushed! I hoped you liked it! I know the fight scene wasn't the best, but I'm not good at violence. Alright, have a nice life, I guess!