Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Naruto.

Chapter Three:

On March 28, my fifteenth birthday, my mother was murdered brutally right before my eyes. I didn't cry at all, or wince at her pain, which may seem shallow in your eyes. But I didn't have any room inside me for tears. I always feel so hollow, and yet, I couldn't even build up any tears for my mom's funeral. The reason for this is completely unknown to my knowledge.

Anyway, when she was being agonizingly cut all over her body by a small but sharp knife, all I did was stare wide-eyed. I didn't know what was restraining me from trying to stop that cruel man, but I somehow was able to feel satisfaction throughout myself as I just stared.

Then, when the murderer finished torturing my mother, he stabbed her chest where her heart would be located, stealing her breath. I had witnessed this horrible thing that must have happened everywhere in the world. And what's worse was that I was feeling satisfaction! Why? I could not say, but I always felt like I was as bad as that filthy looking desperado killer.

He walked over to me, knife covered in mom's blood in hand. I was standing in a dark corner, so he couldn't see my features well. His large grimy hand closed around my wrist as he pulled me out of the dark.

"You're a pretty one," he commented, a disgusting smirk across his face. This guy looked to be in his mid-forties, if I guessed correctly. How disturbing, right?

So, I suppose he was staring very intently into my green eyes and saw something he didn't expect to, since his smirk disappeared right away. "Are you not afraid?" His voice was deep, but not very smooth. My eyes smiled, and a few seconds later, so did my lips. His voice still cracked! Frankly, I was surprised I didn't brake out into giggles.

"Ah, I see," he said. That confused me because I didn't know what in the world he meant.

"You see?" I asked, a confused expression on my face.

The evil man replied, "You ain't like others, are ya? You like to be alone."

I inhaled deeply, gaping. I wondered then, could he tell merely by looking at me?

"Yeah. You didn't show no pain when ya watched me hurt yer own ma. I bet ya even felt what I was feelin', right? I's been told 'bout ya," he explained.

"You've been told? By whom? What are you..." I questioned, ignoring his atrocious grammar.

"Huh, I ain't sure if I'm s'pposed to tell ya."

I put on an furious face. "You tell me now, or you'll... I'll..." Oh, but I couldn't think of anything that might hurt him. He was, after all, a very afflicting man.

"Kid, I's not gonna hurt you. I got orders against that. He says yer special," he told me.

"Special? Orders? Who is "He"?" I continued to question.

He sneered. "Ya shoul'n't ask questions. It might mess up yer fate."

My fate? What is my fate? To be alone forever, maybe? I wondered to myself.

"I gotta go now, sweet-heart," said the twisted man. Then he grinned, not in a charming way, but a greedy way. His face became just centimeters away in just a few seconds. His lips touched mine.

Then he was gone.

And that day, I thought about his words. They always repeated inside my head. What is this about my fate? How am I special? Who is "He"? I could never answer them.

A/N: Well, chapter three is up. I hope you like it. It's pretty short, but isn't it sweet? :D Well, thanks!