I don't own Naruto or any of the characters. I'm sorry if anything is spelled wrong. Please tell me if it is. Whether I correct it or not is an entirely different story. :) Enjoy reading.

It amazed me how such small and delicate hands could kill so easily.

How someone that looked so innocent could be a killer. How he was able to soak the ground in blood, like rain would if we weren't in the desert.

How a simple gesture from his hand ended the persons life that had gotten in his way. How even when the person cried and begged for mercy, he never showed any expression as the blood soaked into the sand.

How he threw the mutilated body to the ground, shaming the corpse by not even acknowledging the person that had just quenched his thirst. The thirst for death. How I wanted to ask him why he did this.

Sometimes killed the innocent. The ones that looked upon him fearfully before running. They never got far. His sand would drag them back, hold them for him to see and then bury them, only to throw them away. Like a new toy that had been quickly used and then discarded. Only these 'toys' were living creatures and could be heard appealing with him not to kill them.

How the cold expression on his face would darken as they talked about compassion. How he would tighten the sands grip as he squeezed their precious life from their bodies. How when their blood finally soaked the ground that he would look at the stain and...smile.

It gave him pleasure to see his victims squirm in his grasp and plead for him to have mercy. Only to refuse so that he could hear their scream rip through the air as he finally ended their existence. One that he thought worthless.

Oh how I wanted to know what caused him to do these things. What made him revert to this killing creature? Was it the fact that even before he began his killing spree that people had named him as a monster?

The reasoning of 'well if that's what they say I am I might as well put proof behind it'.

Why did he look so cold at everyone? As if they were all vermin compared to him. As if they were only born just for him to kill.

Why did he look at them that way? Why did he choose random people? Not just those that knew him, but those that were innocent? Ones that had family to care for. It made me sad to watch him kill a man that had come into the village to buy food for his family. How his little child would now never get the food and may go hungry. How he would never grow up knowing his father that had died unnecessarily.

I wanted to confront him. Tell him that what he was doing was awful. Beg him to stop. Try to reason with him. But how could I? He never saw me. Never even knew that I was watching. I cried for him. Sad that I couldn't remove his hate. That I was a cause of it. I wanted to stop it. Stop the bloodshed. Stop the massacre. Stop the constant killing.

This was not what I had wanted. Not...what I had given my life up for. Not for my youngest son to be a killer. Especially when I heard him call out to me. Asking if I enjoyed the blood he spilled.

If he could hear my cry of denial he would have stopped. He would have listened to me. I was his mother. I loved him. Even if no one else did. I was always there, trying to comfort him. My lost child. My lonely little boy.

Did you know that I wanted you to be born? Wanted you to experience this world? Love this world? Love your siblings?

I knew that my life would end when yours started. I was fine with that. Just so that you could live and experience life. Before I knew that I would die, I was ecstatic. Your siblings had taken up with their father and I was, like your are now, lonely. I wanted someone to understand and to be with me.

Temari was my little girl to dress up and to play dolls with, though I laugh now since it seems your brother is the one that enjoyed my doll shows more. He always did love that little marionette that a very dear friend had given to me.

I caught him playing with the small puppet once and couldn't stop myself from smiling as I heard him talking to it. Telling it what to do. And to my surprise it listened. I had to hold back my laughter as he turned to show me what he had done, only for the puppet to refuse to move again.

I had encouraged him, and now I think that that is the reason that he is now a great puppet master. To remember me. It was something that I showed him how to do and so he would never forget me, he has practiced it to perfection.

Your sister is the same way my little one. Have you ever wondered why she only wears dresses? Because I always wished for her to look like a young lady. Not like some of these kunoich that run around dressed like boys. Also the fan was mine. The second gift your father ever gave me.

I smile remembering, but then grimace as I hear another of your victims screams.

I feel sorry for you my little boy. Though your siblings remember me and have memories of me, you have nothing but lies. Lies that your uncle told you. How I never loved you. How I cursed you when you were born. He lied to you so much my little one. My only regret is never getting to know you when I was alive.

If I could talk to you my young one I would tell you the truth. All of it.

You were my escape from this wretched village. I was sick of this place. Sick of living. You see my boy, I was ARRANGED to marry the fourth Kazekage. It was not by my choosing that I married him. He is a cruel man. Far more cruel than you will EVER be. He has killed more men then you will in your life. Even with your way of...living.

No my dear one. I was in love with someone completely different. He was a puppet master like your brother. He's the one that gave me that puppet your brother loved. And he was as hurt as you are now my child. How I wish that you two could meet. How you could help each other.

He ran from this village, like I wish I could have.

He offered for me to go with him. I agreed quickly, but my plan was foiled. I am not a ninja, my sweet little boy. I didn't know how to keep hidden.

How I wished that I hadn't gotten caught. The ninjas took me back. Back to my future husband. I was wed that night.

I wish I could tell you that I was saved by my love but that would be a lie.

It wasn't until years later that I was able to see my love again. By that time Temari was three and Kankuro had just celebrated his first birthday.

When your brother was born I thought that I would hate him. I really did. He looked so much like the Kazekage that I thought about disowning him and hiring a nurse. But when that first cry ripped through the room and I had him in my arms I couldn't stop the motherly affection that I felt. He was my first son and I had thought that since I now had both a boy and a girl that I didn't need any more children.

However...neither of these children had the father that I wanted them to have. Neither felt the love of that one man. Neither would ever know about him as anything but a missing ninja. I was forbidden to speak about him as anything else.

However that didn't stop my thoughts. And when he came to see me again, sneaking into my sitting room, I thought that I was daydreaming. But than he touched my cheek and I couldn't stop the tears that fell from my eyes at the feel of his calloused fingers.

He demanded that I go with him, but I refused. How could I leave my children? And they couldn't go with us. He understood. He kissed me then, causing more tears to fall.

I refuse to lie to you my little boy. So I will tell you that it went further than that one kiss.

I hated the Kazekage, and truthfully didn't even say yes in the marriage ceremony. It was just assumed. I never was committed to him. So I don't see the point in denying the truth. Even when I was alive, if someone had asked I wouldn't have lied.

If you asked some of the older women they could tell you that I was never unfaithful to the one I love. But that was NOT the Kazekage.

After that one night and a tearful goodbye, I never saw my love again.

He left me another present before he left. My child, it was the fan that your sister now carries. Yes. The Kazekage is NOT your father.

Why do you think that you look nothing like him?

Your messy red hair came from your father. I bet it's hard to manage right? So you just let it go its own way. I see you do some of the gestures that he does. You bite your lip self-consciously like he does.

Though I have to admit that you have some of my features as well.

You have my nose, my lovely. And my ears.

You have his hands though. Those wonderful artist hands. Oh how I wish that you could see him. How I wish that he could make you smile softly. I saw you smile softly once, my dearling. You have his smile.

How anyone could think that you aren't his son is beyond me. You look like him and myself. Excluding your eyes. Those hurt portals are yours alone, my poor baby.

When the Kazekage found out that I was pregnant, he knew whose baby you were. Even without asking. That's why he decided to put Shukaku in you, my sweetling. You were not his child.

Infusing you with the Shukaku was a punishment for myself and my lover. I told you that the Kazekage is a cruel man. It didn't matter that he would be hurting you by punishing me. I'm sorry that he did that to you. I tried to persuade him otherwise, but he just laughed and turned away. I'm sorry, my little one. So very sorry.

Before I told the Kazegage that I was pregnant with you, I was ecstatic.

The Kazekage was half of your siblings and was able to influence them, but you, my darling, you would be all mine. My little Gaara. My little love. You were the one thing that would forever remind me of your father.

Once the Shukaku was put inside of you I cried for days. Not because I would die. I had wanted to escape from this village for so long, that dying did not bother me. But the fact that you would be left alone caused my heart to ache.

You would be left alone with the lies that people would tell you.

I wanted to stay with you. Shield you from the wretchedness of people. I finally realized that it was already done and that there was no reason to cry. I may not be there but I could make sure SOMEONE was.

I wrote two letters. One to your father, telling him of everything and one to my brother. I had no way to send the letter to your father, I believe it still rests in a chest in the attic. But my brother would resdpond to my plea for help. He arrived in the village a day before your birth. A day before my death.

Oh my sweet child, how I wish that I could tell you all these things. How much pain you caused me. More so then either of your siblings. 52 hours of that pain, my little one. But oh how I longed to see you. To see you perfect and healthy.

When you finally came into this world, you cried loudly, begging for attention. I didn't even let the nurse clean you before I demanded to hold you. I was losing blood rapidly, and I wasn't going to waste a moment of holding you. Did you know that I held you? That I was the first to see your beautiful eyes? That I was the first to talk to you? I can remember my words exactly.

How you smiled at my voice and how my tears fell at having to leave you.

I held you tightly to me and you nuzzled into me. I looked down into your eyes and kissed your forehead. Right were your love tattoo is now. I whispered that I loved you and that I hoped that your life would be filled with love, understanding and friendship.

How I still wish for all of that to still come true.

I smiled at you and looked at my brother as I was fading. My voice was not much more than a whisper.

"His name is Gaara. It means to love yourself. I want him to value his life. To love living. To love life."

That's all I could say before coughing and falling back weekly.

The nurse took you from me and I felt more tears fall at having you taken from me. I heard you crying for me and I smiled. My sweet little baby. I sighed contently and smiled as I spoke softly.

"My sweet Gaara. I love you."

With that I left you in this cold world. I thought that you would be well taken care of, but I see that that didn't happen.

If I had known what they would do to you, I would have left as soon as I found out you were inside me and left you with your father. He would have been far more understanding. Even if he is considered a killer.

I suppose that you would be wondering who your father is. His name is Sasori. Also know as the 'scorpion of the red sand'. You remind me of him my little boy.

I wish that I could tell you all this. But I cannot. Would you believe me if I told you? I hear your victims dying scream, and sigh. All I can do is guard you. More so than the sand.

I wish you could sleep. I can talk to you in dreams. But Shukaku never stops plaguing your mind. Forgive me for leaving you, my Gaara. I wish that I could have shown you what a wondrous place this world can be. How love can change people and let them soar.

I give you hugs but you don't feel them. You just feel cold. I'm sorry.

I cry every time I think of how I would have loved to cradle you to me as you grew up.

I will watch you, and maybe someday someone will get through that thick head of yours that is more like me than your father. I pray that you will soon have a friend that will show you the RIGHT way to live. Until then, my sweet, hurting child I will be watching over you. Showing you love. Even if you can't see it.