I do not own anything.
WARNING: There are some strong beliefs coming from Naruto, especially in the first part, if you are not okay with atheists or are heavy religious believers DO NOT READ.
A game, that was all. Of course he was an atheist after all he had thought the prospect of a holy being that protected was a silly belief to him, but if there really was a god that was what he believed he thought people's lives were…games, pieces of putty he could mold on a whim to a variety of different shapes. All to entertain him, when he wanted someone dead, they died if he someone them to feel utter agony and sorrow, he could make them feel utter agony and sorrow. But for him, god wasn't real, there wasn't a divine being controlling his life. Of course even beforehand he hadn't come from a religious family so even then he had thought he controlled his own life. It took his toll on him when he thought that it was perhaps a divine being's judgement for thinking that had killed his family.
Perhaps he couldn't control the game, that it was beyond his reach as a human being, that he was only a piece that they played on the board. Some didn't believe in that, which was fine, he didn't agree with them about their beliefs, what should bring them to believe his.
"8 years old…?" a pause. "He looks older… I mean, his eyes do"
"Well he's been through a-lot, and don't you know the funeral's being held soon…now let's get out of here, don't you know."
"He's cursed."
He ignored them and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he carried on.
And his life wasn't just a game but a story, humans can be so disgusting like that, you see you do attract more flies with honey. His whole life was honey to the fleas people call reporters, newscasters as well. Because who didn't love reading about the oh so poor kid whose mother owned a country famous restaurant, and father of whom was the mayor along with his basketball star brother all die in a horrible accident. If it were anyone else's family, they wouldn't have cared.
But with every big fish.
There were leeches
Leeches sucking him dry.
There was no doubt in his mind though, what they would write were lies.
Lies.
Like doctors lies. "It was quick, painless, they didn't suffer much." He whispered under his breath so no-one could hear him. He wasn't apathetic, he really wasn't. Of course he could spot through those kind of lies easily, after his brother it had become second nature. He knew when he saw their grim faces hiding behind the scrubs, they had suffered greatly.
Because of him. No doubt.
He had answered the reporters though, when they came up, asking him question after question. The answers he gave however, were secret pleads asking, asking, asking desperately for help. They were also pleads for them to notice, it wasn't an accident. It was the game. Someone thought they broke a rule, and they wanted them kicked off permanently. He was only saved by some miracle…well not a miracle.
His older brother.
It was advertised too.
New Info Revealed: No Good Saved Younger Brother in Uzumaki Incident. Was plastered on the newspaper that morning, he threw it away. He told them that when the incident happened, but now two weeks later it was on the paper. New information his ass.
Most people thought he was depressed, some loonies though, as there were always some out there thought he was putting up an act. He planned this. They say, I mean as they were grade A nut-jobs it was almost to be expected, but seriously. That was passing a line, I mean there was no way he had killed his own parents…but then again, maybe was he the one who broke the rule, maybe that's why they died…
He really hated the fact that to reporters he apparently had a big neon sign hanging over his that flashed some insanely bright colors and probably said something along the lines of
STORY OPPORTUNITY
Or maybe
COME ANNOY ME AND JUST SHOW THE WORLD THE LEECHES YOU REALLY ARE.
Or maybe
KID + FAMOUS PARENTS + SOMEONE DIED = BIG HEADLINES
He didn't laugh at this. It wasn't funny.
Because his life was to them, one story, but to him it was memories upon memories of family and friends. Disney trips, learning, experiencing, He remembered all of the things he had done, the happy moments with family the sad moments all alone and the angry moments with his best friend. He hated that nothing would ever be the same, people would view him with hate or pity.
They both infuriated him, he just wanted to once again be a normal kid, not fawned over, not shunned.
Just to tell you now, there are two types of loonies. Those who believed it was an accident but still thought he had killed them, they didn't necessarily see him with pity or hate, he liked them. But there were the second kind, they honestly thought he was insane, I mean like…The Shining insane, or Laughing Jack insane. They viewed him as a killer, that he was some sort of wacko that went around swinging an axe at midnight, lauging.
Yeah. Yeah. Johnny's here!
They thought he had voices in his mind.
But yes he did, those lingers of whispers they would let out when he passed in his full bandaged glory. He would hear them call him a demon child to their friends when they thought he couldn't hear, but he did in fact it's harder that they'd whisper it behind his back. It only made it so much louder.
When they whispered it was louder than any scream, howl, or screech he'd ever heard. It would constantly ring through his ears, the names they called, all the utterly horrible names they would whisper and unwittingly yell at him.
After a while he learned just how they'd died, smoke inhalation. Painfully slow smoke inhalation, they had gotten stuck inside of the RV bathroom and never actually died by fire, while he had known it was a horrible death, he had no idea it was so utterly horrible. They had died from smoke inhalation, slowly choking, not able to get out…
He shook his head but he couldn't stop his wandering eyes and he had already pulled up the sheet, so he pulled it up farther.
Ripped off fingernails, probably trying to get out. Dry blood ran down their arms. Burns spotted their arms and legs, up their torsos and some on their faces. They still had some of their clothes on but even so most of the clothing they wore had been turned to ashes by the fire.
But their eyes, lifeless, devoid of emotion, but then again they were filled with terror and sorrow and something plucked at his heart as he threw the cover back down onto the dead body and he screamed. He didn't even remember at that moment that he was in a hospital and doctors came in, hearing the inhuman screech. He felt his throat grow hoarse and kept hitting the doctors away as he writhed on the floor screaming.
Then something putrid ran out of his mouth it took him a moment before he noticed that there was vomit pooling around his feet and the vile smell that ran up his nose made him throw up again not even caring about the doctors around him as they grabbed him and pulled him away from his family. Their lifeless bodies at least.
The doctors of course couldn't bring themselves to reprimand the boy for sneaking into the hospital and into the room, seeing his tearstained face and seeing the vomit dripping from his mouth they could only sit there and watch as the child was in a state of terror, shock, and despair all at once, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, gagging slightly as he let out a cry and shut his eyes closed so hard they were probably in pain.
They let him go and called the police to inform them why the silent alarm had been pulled. They led him back to his foster home.
He couldn't sleep that night, every time he even closed his eyes he would see his brother desperately clutching onto a picture of them in his hands, probably stuck in by rigor mortis. at the start of the trip. Naruto was smiling like a ray of the sun in the picture sitting on his brother's shoulders and making sure his chubby hands were holding onto his mom and dad's by bending down.
At the base, in his mom's loopy, cursive writing, were the words
Best Summer Ever
And it truly had been till the fire.
Spark had been his nickname…but he quickly abandoned it.
Because one spark had started the fire.
Now he had pyrophobia.
And all this because of the game.
Hey I'm sorry I never continued I've just been having trouble lately. I'm rewriting though because I think I've gotten a bit better at writing and I think I owe it to you so anyway. On another note, I've got more of a grasp on what the concept of the story will be and I will try my best to put a good story out there. And trust me, Naruto will eventually become himself. Also should I rename the story? I was thinking either Sparks or pyrophobia, what do you think?
-S.E.C.
