A/N: Hey, I'm back! Now let's see what Gaara's up to this fine Sunday night. I promise there'll be a story line soon, we just gotta get through these little intro things first.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, I'd be rich and this might be a spin-off for it.
Warning: Can't handle blood or crying? Then why are you here?
Tears streamed down the ginger's face as he finally pulled himself away from the needle. Temari had caught him using his knife and taken it, so he resorted to the next best thing. Slowly, the red liquid emerged from the many pinpricks across his arms as he threw the bloodstained needle to the floor. He hugged his arms closer to him, unintentionally smearing blood across his jacket. He took no notice of this and began sobbing into his hands.
He wasn't the luckiest of kids. He had zero social skills. His father's favorite was Temari; his mother's, Kankuro. As far as they cared, he was only there to eat their food and take up space. So much for loving parents.
Children thought he was weird, being the only red-head in town. That, and all he did was sit on the swings at recess, and he never talked to anyone. Why bother? They were annoying. But life could be worse, right? Not as far as Gaara was concerned. He was rock bottom. He'd never had a friend. He was convinced that even his stuffed animals hated him. That's why they had to camp out in the dumpster.
And now he was moving. His life in Suna sucked, but he still loved it there. Sand and scorpions are much nicer than people; they don't judge or resent you. They don't get to know you or care for you either, but you can't be perfect. But now his parents were dragging him to Konoha, which had a reputation of being "sand and scorpion free". What's more, he still had to go to school, where he would be further judged and belittled.
Soon after Gaara saw where his life was going, he realized he was nothing. He didn't matter to the people around him. Not his parents, his classmates, nobody. Eventually, he might just disappear. That's why he cut. It reminded him that he was real, no matter how tiny his existence was. If he didn't, he might be fully consumed by the nothingness inside of him; it was eating away at him even now.
Pulling his tear stained face away from his hands, he forced himself to stand. He had to get these wounds fixed up, because no matter how much he resented it, he still had to go to school tomorrow. The place he was least likely to achieve happiness, surrounded by people who not only were nothing like him, but would probably single him out as an outcast on sight.
The ginger let out a sigh as he buried himself and his newly-dressed wounds in his bed covers.
A/N: So how'd you like it? Not as terrifyingly emo/bloody as Sasuke's. Sadly, it wasn't as long either. The story will actually start in the next chapter, so stay tuned xD
Oh and btw, I decided that Gaara's mom is still alive.