Chapter 4
Naruto's POV
I come into my house, a little depressed. I must have hit a nerve talking about Gaara's home life. I sigh, and curse my big ass mouth. I go into my room to put my stuff away and change out of my swimming trunks.
"Naruto we're going out to eat tonight!" Jiraiya burst into my room, right when I'm changing. "Oh….sorry you're naked should have knocked first." There was a pause. "So anyway were do you want to eat?" He asks, walking towards my closet. "Here put this on, I don't want to be seen with you if you look like shit."
"Look like shit? I'm not even warring anything! How can you say I look like shit?" I yell grabbing the cloths he hands me. I pull on my cloths, and walk out of the room, Jiraiya following.
"Haven't answered my question." He nags.
"I don't know Olive Garden?"
"Gay, pick something else." I sigh, and think.
"Chilli's?"
"Yeah that's better." He says grabbing his keys, we walk out to the car.
"So you finished another novel?" I ask, knowing that's the most likely reason why we are going out to eat.
"Yup." He says. When we arrive at the restaurant and have ordered our food, we get into a conversation.
"So who's your little friend?"
"Uh?"
"Ya know that red head next door."
"Oh, just a guy I met at school is all. He's pretty cool, but not the social type." I say playing with my food. I still felt a little bad for upsetting the red head.
"Made any other friends?"
"Yeah this other guy in school, I talk to him sometimes."
"I'm glade, you seem to be fitting in better here." I nod, and eat some of my food. Jiraiya dose the same. We soon talk about other things, and get into an argument about sports. The evening was fun, and I was glade to have some good food. Jiraiya doesn't cook, we survive off ramen, TV dinners, and anything else you can stick in the microwave.
The rest of the night I stayed up watching TV. For some reason I couldn't help but glance out the window sometimes. Pookie was laying next to me, and I petted his head. One time when I looked out my window I look up. I notice there's a window there, and a light was on. I couldn't help but stare at it. The blinds were up and I could see blank walls, and the corner of a door. Then someone came to the window. It was Gaara, he pulled down the blinds, and turned off the lights. He must be going to bed. I look at the clock and see it's almost midnight.
I'll have to remember that's Gaara's room. I know it must sound pervy, but I do find the red head interesting. I want to see if maybe I can find some more out about his home life. I lay down, and use Pookie as a pillow. I watch TV for a bit longer, until I start to nod off. Then I turn off my lights and TV, and crawl under my sheets.
"Sister Amber?" Came my voice, it was the voice of a child The nun looks at me, she was one of the ones who didn't' utterly despise me. ""Why is it so many people hate me?" I ask her, not knowing who else would have the answer. Trusting her to give me an honest answer.
"Sadly, you carry a great sin. No child should have their hands solid as yours are." She explains sadness and pity in her tone…..
I wake up, my dog had left my room and I was all alone. I look at the clock and notice it was three in the morning. I groan, knowing I won't go back to sleep easily. I rub my eyes and look out my widow. The blinds were turned so I could peek through them. I notice a light turn on in Gaara's room. I wonder if he's going to the bathroom, or if he had a nightmare too.
The light stays on for about five minutes and then turns off. I still look at the window. He's a strange kid. Quiet shy, keeps to himself, but there's also this whole thing that draws me to him. Maybe it is cause he is so quiet, I don't know. All I know is from the first day I saw him, I found him interesting. I smile and pull the sheets up to my chin. I close my eyes and drift back to sleep.
The next morning I wake up to the noise of a car starting. I look out to find the source of the noise. I see our neighbors pull out of the drive way. Maybe going to church or something. It is Sunday after all. I yawn, and get out of bed.
Today was extremely boring. I just spend most of my day reading, the new novel Jiraiya wrote. He hasn't sent it to his editor yet, so I'm reading it. He'll send it out tomorrow. I'm in bed finishing up the last pages. If I want to I can read a book pretty fast, problem is most of the time I don't want to. I'm lazy, and my grades in school reflect that. I hear a garage being opened. I glimpse out to see what our neighbors are up to. I wonder if I'm being to noise? Who cares? I watch the red head get into the car, and it zooms off. I shrug it off.
The next day at school the red head wasn't there. That made me sad, and I was a little worried too. I had fallen asleep before seeing if the car came back last night. What if he got into an accident? I push those thoughts out of my head. I'll visit him.
After school, and after doing all my homework and shit I go next door. I wonder if I'll be allowed in the house. Gaara did say that his family wasn't big on letting people in the house. I ring the door bell, and his sister answers, just like last time.
"Hey, you here to see how Gaara is?" She asks I nod my head, she stepped aside and let me in. "I'm glade to see Gaara has someone to worry about him." She says, and I kinda thought it was a weird thing to say. But, I'm sure that she didn't mean that they didn't care about him. She probably meant that she was glade he's making friends or something. She leads me upstairs, and point's out a door to me. "That's his room."
"Thank you." I say walking to the door, I knock lightly before stepping in. Gaara is laying in his bed.
"What are you doing here?" He asks surprised.
"I wanted to know why you weren't at school today. Your sister let me in, are you sick?" I ask stepping to his bed side, he doesn't look sick. But, he must be, why else would he be in bed?
"I'm not sick just hurt my leg is all. I didn't want to go around walking on it. Probably won't go to school tomorrow either." He explains in a mumble. I look at him with sad eyes.
"Now who am I going to cheat of off in German class?" I say in a dramatic voice.
"How about studying?" Gaara says back smartly.
"That would mean I'm learning, are you crazy?" I joke; the red head only glares at me, and I laugh. "So can I ask how you hurt your leg?"
"When I was going down the stairs I must have stepped on it wrong. Then I fell, it's more that it hurts when I walk on it." He explains, though I don't know if I buy that story.
"How are your hands?" I ask him.
"What?" He asks looking up at me a little surprised.
"Your hands. You cut them on glass remember?" I ask raising an eyebrow at him.
"Oh they're better." He says, shifting his hands a little under the covers.
"Well I'm glade you're ok. Don't leave me alone at school for to long ok?" I say getting up, I couldn't help but ruffle his hair. And found that the short spikes were actually kinda soft. I smile and see myself out. I think about the story Gaara gave me. I just don't believe it, and I'm not to sure about his hands anymore either. Is someone hurting him? Is that why he won't speck of his home life? I'll have to try and get some imfo or something.
Gaara's POVI felt strange after the blonde left. I was…I was happy he came. That he was worried, and cared enough to come visit. But I push the strange feeling of happiness away. Telling myself not to get to attached, that he can't find out anything, and that I can't let him to close. I lay back and decide to take a little nap. I didn't get a lot of sleep yesterday. After all I spent most of the night in the emergency room. I yawn and soon doze off.
I was in a car with my dad. We're driving to the church, we had just visited earlier this morning. Sadly one of the priest believed my dads stories, and also helps to try and free me of my 'demon'. We pull into the church parking lot. We head in, and into the back rooms of the building. It was a large back room, and all the followers were gathered there.
I was lead to the middle of the room, which held a fire inside a large brass bowl. It all seemed so unrealistic, like this could never be happening. But I knew what was going to happen, and I knew all these people honestly believed in this ritual. They all think they are helping me, when they are just making my life a living hell. One of the hooded people, I'm guessing the priest put holy water on my forehead, before touching his finger to each side of my shoulder.
My father starts to speak, referring to me as demon. "May the fire draw you out. May it remind you of your home, hell. And may you burn and leave this child." He says, the group mumbles something. Arms lift me, and I let them I don't even struggle. I let them drag me to the fire. I'm close to the bowl that is on the ground. Many hands hold mine tight, as if making sure I wouldn't run.
The chanting begins, chanting I remember from my childhood. I close my eyes as I hear footsteps scoot closer to the flames. The chanting gets louder, and my face is practically and inch away from the fire. The words 'leave this child', and 'go back to hell' echo through out the room. Then I hear a tap. One of the people had gotten to close to the brass bowl holding the flames, and it wobbles to the side. People rush to get out of it's way. In the process pushing my aside, all the panic makes the thing fall over. While everyone was I safe distance away I get pushed into the danger zone. Everyone was to busy caring about themselves, they just threw me aside.
I almost fall but don't. I stubble, the bowl having tipped over to the side were I was standing. My bottom pant leg catches on fire. I don't scream or anything, I just try to get to a space were I could pat it out. But all the people in robs were closely packed, and didn't give me space. So I sit on the ground trying to stop the flames, that have just finished burning my pants bottom. But then my father holds me still and stops me from stopping the fire. I stare up at him, with an emotion I hadn't in a long time; fear.
"It's gods will." He whispers to me, and then starts to pray. I scream loudly, and try to get away from him. Feeling the heat on my flesh. Then after what seemed forever he puts out the fire. I stop my screaming, and take in deep breaths. My dad stands up.
"This was I sign." He states. "The fire responded, and as tried to take the demon away. This was no accident. Maybe now the demon as finally left, maybe now all our years of pray and work as paid off." He explains. He tells them lies again. "We'll have to see. We'll have to make sure the demon is no longer there. We will meet on Thursday as usual, and then we'll see if he is still plagued with an evil spirit." With that the group leaves, and I'm taken to the hospital to make sure my legs all right.
I open my eyes. Why are there so many crazy people? Why dose this have to happen to me? How can they honestly believe all the shit my dad is feeding them? A flash of my uncles death runs through my mind. And a little voice in my head tells me that's how they can believe. Because after all, who would believe a seven year old could so violently kill anyone?
A/N: I know some of you may say. The whole cult thing isn't believable or something. But thing is, they might not do it this way, but there are some people out there like that. Their like a traveling church thing, that claims to heal people of demons. People are even obsessed with the whole demon thing. So thought the way the people in my story handle it is a little extreme, the whole demon believing thing isn't.