Whispers in the Dark

by Lindy Rose

Sakura thought she was having a hard enough time as it was and that was before she began to hallucinate the sexy red head who absolutely won't leave her alone. Is she really going crazy or is there more to this man who no one else can see? Also Hurt/Comfort

4. Chapter 4

Hello readers,

Chapter 4 is, by far, the longest of this story and a little different in the format in that alot of this is a sort of jumble of memories. It has also been the absolutely most difficult part of the story for me to go back and reedit. The tense, person and character development are elevated and of a continuous quality. Whoohoo! It's done!
Also this was an incredible challenge so if you catch anything I missed please let me know.
Hopefully you enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you for stopping by!

xoxo
Rose

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It took a long time for me to convince my mom and sister that I was alright. Honestly I'm shocked that the two of them allowed me to sleep alone. I didn't really expect my arguments to convince either of them and I'm strangely proud of myself for keeping the news of the new hallucinations from spilling out of me when I could barely hear their concern over the panic in my mind. I'm thankful for my trained restraint; they don't need to know that I passed out on the bus stop bench this afternoon and woke to have a conversation with a man no one else saw or that the reason for my scream was that I had seen him again, kneeling beside my bubble filled bath...

Oh no, they definitely do not need to know that.

It's now quite late in the night and I'm finally alone in my room, soaking in the solitude I've been so desperate for. The small, cluttered space is quiet, dark and empty, save for me and the white rose that glows pale in the shadows, its petals catching the blue tinted beams of the moon. Exhausted, I fall into my bed, curling up on my side. Pulling warm blankets over my weary body I look out at the stormy night sky through my window, watching wisps of cloud float back and forth across the bright face of the moon. Tired as I am I know I can't sleep yet; the day has been full of too many things to think about and I know I need to think about them, because what else but the mental stress of the day could be causing my reoccurring hallucinations? I only hope that once the clamoring badness within my mind has been folded neatly and put away in the back of my head, in a very tightly chained box, that the hallucinations will stop.

That's what I do. When events, emotions, become too difficult to deal with I try to separate myself from them, try to look at them from an impenetrable glass chamber, before I lock them away as securely as I can.

Now I wrap my mind in a tight, imaginary blanket of safety, ineffective as I know it will be, before I close my eyes and let the events of the day begin to play...

I step off of the bus and watch as its glass doors slide shut with a squeaking swoosh before it trundles away, revealing to me a large brownstone building, my school, sitting smugly across the street. It's one of the last places I ever wanted to be ever again and the place I'm forcing myself to attend for another wretched semester. It's why I'm here today; I have to register personally with the Vice Principal because...there is no group registration day for failed Seniors.

I make my way towards the building and pass the proud sign bearing the words Konoha Academy. One of the toughest schools in the country, my parents forced me and my sisters to attend in my Sophomore year and, after a long and challenging first year that, due to a hospitalization I wasn't quite able to finish out in person, I decided to stay.

My younger sister Ino chose to leave after that first year at the Academy and began attending the city's normal high school. By the summer before my Senior year my mom was begging me to do the same. She worries about me in a different way than she does for my siblings and, as much as it bothers me, I understand. Any mother would worry over a child like me.

But I have a prideful, determined streak that I can't ignore and, when the new school year started, I was back at the Academy, determined to overcome the challenge that the school presents. When offered disability extensions by the principal I turned him down. No one understood why I choose to make things as difficult as I could on myself but I was sure of my decisions; I wanted to prove to everyone that I can overcome anything...normal people could.

I wanted to prove it to myself.

But I hadn't; I failed in my mission. By the end of first semester it was obvious that, no matter what I did, there would be no way I could graduate on time.

My failure haunted me. Echoes of tormenting phrases would play over and over in my mind throughout those long, dark days. Visions of being curled on the ground, surrounded by angry, disappointed, disdainful, teachers, family and peers, flashed through my mind and I sometimes spent my lunch period hiding somewhere in the building, huddled on the ground, curled up against the dirty school floor in the same position as I was on the black floor of my mind.

Everyone who knew me knew I had to be struggling, that there was no way I was 'fine' like I always claimed to be. But I had stopped speaking of how I felt. Afraid of sounding weak, of whining, of my friends tiring of me, I didn't speak of how much I hated myself, of how I cried myself to sleep all the time, of how I didn't know how to climb out of my seemingly bottomless hole, of how I felt hopeless and was terrified of the future, terrified of future failures...

And then, in the worst, most public way possible, the very last day of the Senior's school year, I cracked, and everyone in the upper school was witness to the results of my brokenness. It was the most shameful moment of my life and at the end of the year events that I forced myself to attend I was avoided by almost everyone I know. Throughout each self inflicted ordeal I could feel the furtive glances of my teachers and peers when they thought I wasn't looking. I could see the disgust flash through their eyes when I caught them. My pride carried me those days. When it became hard to assume my aloof and unaffected mask my pride gave me the furious grace of a queen. Every time I felt the stab of disapproval from another person I cared about, I reminded myself that I was strong, reined in the instinct to run away, and simply smiled a bit brighter, taking solace in the special few who showed kind and unwavering support.

But what hurt the worst, above almost anything else, was when Vice Principal Tsunade, an adult that I have looked up to as practically a parental figure and a confidant that I trusted unconditionally, saw me for the first time since my moment of shame...and looked away. She never said a word to me though we came in close proximity enough times at different events. It seems to me, then and now, that my role model is so ashamed of me, so tired of my constant failure that she has given up on this disappointment of a person, on me, completely.

It broke my heart.

And now here I am, walking through the doors of the one place I least want to be to see someone I wish I could never speak to again. Many doctors would classify this sort of behavior as masochism but, to me, this is the first real step of the test that will allow me to prove to myself what I'm really worth.

Or maybe it's just that damn pride again.

There is one bright spot on the horizon of my day. After my appointment with Tsunade, the one that I found myself now only a few steps away from, I plan on going to my friend Kiba's work to surprise him. Then, since I will have already taken on one terrifying hurtle that day, I figure I might as well take on another, equally frightening challenge.

I'm going to tell Kiba about my feelings and the thought fills me with nervous, giddy butterflies.

That die the second I knock on Tsunade's door.

"Come in."

I take a deep breath and relax my face, adjusting my features into a composed mask, turn the door handle and step in confidently. "Good afternoon Ms. Tsunade."

"Hello Miss Haruno." Tsunade responds gruffly. She doesn't look up from the papers she is shuffling and I quietly seat myself in one of the chairs across from the blonde woman, her desk an imposing reminder of the barrier between us.

"So," The older woman's voice snaps out abruptly, finally looking up at my composed posture. "What is it you needed to see me about?

My expression is serene and emotionless as I meet my Vice Principals fierce gaze, "I wanted to discuss with you my attending the school this fall semester. I want to complete my missing credits so that I can have my diploma. I only need a few credits so it should take only the one semester."

Tsunade's eyebrows rise as she leans back in her chair, examining me with critical eyes. "And what makes you think this semester will be any different than the last three years? Why do you still want to attend our school when you still haven't shown any consistent pattern of effort?"

"This semester will be different Ms. Tsunade."

The look on Tsunade's face shifts into something I can't read, I feel the fear more intensely and it tingles in my clenched hands and feet, preparing me for battle. "And why should I believe it will be different?"

I manage to keep my face smooth but my twisted up hands tighten in my lap and my nails pinch frantically at any vulnerable skin. "Ms. Tsunade, you don't...experience what I've experienced these past nine months without changing. I will never allow myself to live through something like this again I assure you."

There's a moments silence and I lower my eyes, waiting for Tsunade's judgment. While the Vice Principal isn't technically allowed choose whether a student is allowed to attend the school or not she is one of the greatest powers in the administration. If she doesn't want to register me at Konoha Academy then we both know I won't be going.

"Alright." I look up from my lap at Tsunade who has begun shuffling papers again. "You'll need to make an appointment with Ms. Shizune to arrange your schedule and get your locker assignment. She's out until next week but get it done as soon as possible."

I stand. A fine trembling has spread through my limbs but my expression remains ever regal and calm. "Thank you Ms. Tsunade. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"No, that should do it."

I nod my head respectfully. "Thank you Ms. Tsunade." I turn to exit, my feet stumbling over themselves a little on the way there. My hand is on the door when-

"And Sakura?"

I can't bring myself to turn around and face the eyes I can feel on my back. "Yes?"

"If you're having a...difficult day, you may still come to my office."

I squeeze my eyes shut in pain, the mask of tranquility finally broken. "Thank you Ms. Tsunade but I...I don't want to have to see your...disappointment in me anymore."

"...I don't want to hear about you disappearing from class then."

A tear escapes me and slips between my lashes at my idols silent admission, "Don't worry, you won't."

I walk away.

An hour later I find myself with my knees curled up to my chest, sticky face pressed against dampened denim underneath a familiar tree. I'm just swallowing the last of my weeping and gasping in between, coherent thought only now starting to prickle in my numb brain, when I remember through the weariness that I have other plans for the day. With a heavy hand I pull a thin cell phone out of my pocket and raise my head just enough to check the time.

Crap, Kiba gets off of work soon; I need to get cleaned up.

I unfurl my limbs and reach for a small black purse that sits slumped a few feet away. Dragging it closer I begin to pull out the womanly tools to make myself presentable again. But I go light on the mascara, just in case.

A short while later I emerge from under the drooping branches of the pine tree I took shelter beneath, fresh faced and, with the exception of a slight redness to my eyes, looking flushed with strength, not pale and weak kneed like I feel. I swiftly brush the remaining dirt and pine needles off, pull on my red pea coat against the slight bite of the wind, and set out towards the nearest sidewalk. There's a determined edge to my step and I focus on reconstructing my confident and poised expression. I'm going to do this!

I let the naive optimism of that goal carry me down the six blocks to Kiba's work. I had hoped to be a little earlier but it won't matter; I know he and his work buddies hang around by the loading docks talking for a while after their shifts end. I can find Kiba there.

The forced smile I wear takes on a life of it's own at the thought of the brown haired boy. I've been attracted to Kiba ever since I first met him but it was only recently that we became friends. Then, as I began to spend more time with the lighthearted young man, my feelings of mild, disconnected attraction began to grow into something different than just friendship. Every time I think of him my stomach fills with butterflies and the sound of his voice sends tendrils of electricity through my body.

In fact, that sounds like his voice now.

I hurry around the corner of a brick building towards the loading docks out back. There's a maze of semi trucks to make my way through but I can hear the men's voices already; I can hear Kiba's voice.

"My God Lee, we need to get you a girlfriend fast."

"Ah, but Kiba! I am far too busy with my training! Master Gai assures me that with a few more years' work I could easily win a spot on the Olympic team! A girlfriend requires tender care and attention and I have not enough to spare! But you Kiba! You are full of youthfulness! Why do you not acquire a girlfriend for yourself? I am sure with your charm and dashing good looks you could easily convince a girl to go with you on a date of youthfulness!"

I hear Kiba moan theatrically and a soft giggle escapes my lips, "And that right there Lee, is why we need to get you a girlfriend."

"You know, he's got a point Kiba." A third voice that I only vaguely recognize, speaks, "You haven't dated anyone since Hinata dumped you for Naruto. Why don't you ask out Sakura? She seems to really like you; I bet she'd say yes."

"Well..." I'm frozen behind the closest truck cab at the sound of my name, waiting in terror for a response. How did I manage to walk in on this! "Sakura's okay...but just as a friend. If I were going to ask anyone out it would be her sister Ino but I still haven't figured out how to do that...cause it's pretty obvious Sakura likes me. She's kinda annoying sometimes to be honest but I still don't want to hurt her feelings or anything you know?"

The unknown voice speaks again, "Nah man I feel you. Sakura's not ugly or anything but her sister definitely got the sex appeal genes in the family. And sometimes it seems like things just fly straight over Sakura's head. I gets old."

"Oh what a tragedy! A youthful love triangle! I can already see the broken hearts littering the ground!"

Kiba groans, "Shut up Lee, seriously. I don't even want to think about it."

"Ah but Kiba-!"

"You know what? I'll see you guys tomorrow. Later."

My muscles thaw instantly in the wave of searing panic that floods through my body. I step back and turn to run but the toe of my damn sneaker catches in a pothole behind me and my hands flail, trying desperately to catch myself before I hit the ground, my head smacking against the black top.

I let out a tiny squeak of pain and my body automatically curls in on itself as I clutch where the splinters of pain are stabbing through my skull. A second later I remember where I am and shoot upright, eyes wide with terror.

"Sakura?"

My rattled, horror stricken brain forgets about running. Instead, my dizzied emerald eyes raise themselves up to trail over the stained knees of faded jeans, along familiar grime covered hands, up a long, broad torso all the way to meet the equally horrified gaze of Kiba.

"Sakura, did you-"

The look on his face wakes up my stupefied mind and I don't wait for him to finish his question; scrambling to my feet I bolt, the sound of his voice calling my name fading behind me.

Everything fades after that. All that exists is the pounding of my feet, the burn of the icy air in my lungs and the words that repeat inside my mind over and over and over. Unwanted, unwanted. Failure, not good enough, unwanted, alone. Unwanted, alone, not good enough, failure, failure, failure, alone, why? Why? Unwanted, failure, alone, alone, alone... I don't see the towering purple storm clouds swirling in the sky above or that I ran into the far outskirts of town. I don't notice when raindrops first began to speckle against my skin, don't realize when the gentle shower turns into pelting, frigid rain. Unwanted, alone, failure, not good enough, never good enough, failure, unwanted, alone, always alone...

It isn't until my foot catches on something unseen and I fly forward, landing on my hands and knees in the middle of an enormous puddle, that my panicked flight is abruptly ended.

I don't move from where I kneel in the dirty water, I only lift up my head and examine my surroundings numbly, very slowly coming back to the present. The unceasing stream of words still plays on inside my mind and I fist my hands in the mud below me, pebbles digging into my skin, shivers running through my body unnoticed.

Then, through the cold, I feel something hot trailing down my face and a choked sob rises up from deep in my belly, forcing its way out of my mouth. Waves more follow, deep and guttural they escape against my will.

A whizzing car reminds me where I am and I stiffen for a second before lurching to my feet. I need somewhere to hide; everything feels too open, too exposed. I pull my hood up over my head; filth covered fingers scraping along my cheeks I stumble down the road, searching for a safe haven in the storm.

A few minutes later a shape rises out of the gloom. As I approach the unknown object its outline solidifies and I'm able to discern what it is.

It's a bus shelter. The perfect hiding place and a possible way home all in one.

Refuge from the rain-turned-sleet in sight I hurry forward until I'm under the edge of the metal roof. Once there I glance around for the bus route number that every shelter bears to show which bus comes to that shelter. My heavy green gaze lands on a garish salmon pink number nine; it's a route that can take me home. I heave a sigh of relief; if I had had to walk home Mom and Ino-

A sensation like a jagged blade suddenly pierces through my chest and what had become echoes in my mind begins to scream again...

The spider web cracks in my emotional barrier finally give way and the memories stop as I succumb to all the feelings they bring with them. It feels as if this day has somehow released and embodied every betrayal and pain I've experienced. As if all the vicious words that had ever been hurled at me, all the times that I've been rejected, all the times that I faced yet another disappointed pair of eyes, all the times I've felt the burn of disapproval, all the times that I have stared back at my face in the mirror and hated everything that I saw there, all the times I have waited for a call that never came, all the times I've been outshone and overshadowed by everyone else, all the times I've watched from afar, too shy to reach out despite my loneliness, have compiled into one nauseating ball of pain. I fold in on myself more tightly under the blankets and shudder violently, the air hissing in and out as I breathe.

And then the tears start, seeping into my hair as they trickle out of my tightly closed eyes. I turn my head into the pillow and moan brokenly, so tired and mentally fried that all I want is for a black chasm to swallow me up so I can rest...

"Why are you crying?"

A gasp breaks through my weeping and I twist around so fast I nearly fall off of the bed. Adrenaline is fizzing through my veins now and I clutch the flannel cover of my comforter as I scan the room frantically, my eyes bright with fear behind a haphazard curtain of pink hair.

A pair of glowing blue moons catch my gaze in an instant and I stare, transfixed.

"Why are you crying?" His voice seems to reverberate around the room and the spell of the twin moons is broken.

I dive under the blankets and squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to make what I had just seen go away, but the image won't fade. Even as I dig the heels of my hands against damp eyelids, creating a burst of colored stars, I can still see Gaara's motionless figure sitting on top of my dresser in the far corner of my room, the shape of his pointed pupils against the blue orbs of his eyes. I can still see the way his scarlet hair is gilded with the rooms muted light and the way the glow deepens the sharp angles of his face. I can see the outline of his body, taunt and leaning forward, as if he's barely keeping himself from leaping across the room to my hiding place.

"Okay Sakura," I whisper frantically to myself under my tent, "gotta keep it together now. He's not really there; it's just your imagination. You're going to look again and he'll be gone because He's. Not. Really. There. Okay one…two…three…four…five!"

I lift the blankets tentatively off of my head and peek over the edge of them, my eyes wide with fear. A squeak of distress escapes me at what I see, at the fact that this is almost completely identical to the vision I had just tried to scrub from my brain. The only difference to this image is the slight crease of concern between Gaara's blue eyes.

"Oh no oh no oh no oh no..."

"Tell me what is wrong." His voice is quiet and gentle yet there is a demanding edge to it, as if he intends to wrest the answer from me whether I agree to it or not.

Hey! Wait a minute! This is my hallucination! He can't tell me what to do! I'm in charge here! Yeah! That's right! He's my hallucination so I can tell him what to do! Be the boss Sakura be the boss!

I point a trembling finger at the invader, "Stop talking you-you-you hallucination! You're a figment of my imagination and I'm...I'm commanding you to be quiet and-and disappear!"

A confused and slightly offended expression ghosts softly over Gaara's face. "What?"

My own face falls into a heavy scowl and I shake my finger more firmly at him, "You heard me Mr. Hallucination! Go! Begone! Scat!"

Understanding dawns in Gaara's strange eyes, "You think I'm a hallucination?"

"Yeah! I do actually!"

Gaara leans towards me a little more, unperturbed at my anger, his interest clearly piqued. "Why would you think you're hallucinating?"

I pull the blankets a little more tightly around my chest and cross my arms over them, looking for all the world as if they're some type of armor that will protect me from his piercing gaze. "Well it's not the first time I've had the things before you know. None of them have been as-well, I mean, I've never seen a person before but since you come from my mind I guess you already know that anyway..."

"You've hallucinated before?"

I find myself shifting uncomfortably under his unwavering stare. "Well yeah...voices and rooms and hallways and-hey wait! No no no no no no I'm not answering your questions! You're not real!"

"Why?"

I tilt my head in confusion. "Huh?"

"Why am I not real?" His voice rasps and I wonder briefly why I would imagine someone who sounds like they have a cold.

"Well," I answer, my tone as reasonable as I can manage, "the bus driver didn't see you and you disappeared way too fast to be a real person. Therefore: hallucination. It's the rational solution."

There's a long silence as Gaara studies me from his perch. Finally, "Why would you hallucinate me?"

The fight in me dims a bit and I bite my lip. "I-I don't know...I don't know..." I turn my face away from the stubborn hallucination when I felt moisture begin to pool in my eyes. "Will you please go away now?" To my annoyance my voice wavers and a droplet slowly slides down my cheek.

The bed suddenly shifts with new weight and something rough and warm wipes away the falling tear. My body goes completely rigid in shock and my breath hitches in my chest.

Hot air blows across my ear and a hungry voice whispers. "No."

My delayed reaction finally kicks in and I shriek, pushing blindly sideways. "Get away!"

My hands connect with something solid and then the other weight is gone. I whip around to see Gaara crouching on the floor only a foot away, looking somewhat stunned that I just shoved him off the bed.

Mouth hanging open I gape at him before snapping my jaw shut with the click of clenching teeth. "Other side of the room. Now." My voice shakes and I hope desperately that he will listen

Gaara scowls in what I think might be frustration and then a second later he's back in the corner of the room. I blink, startled at how fast he moved.

Well that proves it; he's a hallucination. No one can really move that fast.

I don't understand why but the thought fills me with an aching sadness.

"I'm going to sleep now. You stay over there and when I wake up you'll be gone. Okay?"

Gaara only stares, the silence heavy between us.

"Okay then," I lie down and roll over so my back faces him, "I'll take that as a yes." My eyes scrunch shut as I lift my arm over the blankets and, as my hand comes to rest on my pillow, I feel a tiny zip of electricity go through my body as something pricks my wrist. My eyes shoot open in shock.

A red rose lies beside my hand.

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