Hello Again! I'm working at getting my chapters longer. It's difficult for me to add more in on something I've writen... last year... Only one more previously written but recently edited chapter after this one. So again, please bear with me. I'd enjoy reading your review to. Thanks!
†Havoc
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Chapter Two: Birthdays
Six Year Later
He sat on the front step of the large, off-white house. With his chin in his hands, he scowled down at the ground. The wind blew his tousled red hair back and forth in front of his face. Back and forth, letting glimpses be caught of the red symbol on his forehead. A light snow drifted down from the dingy, grey sky. The small flakes stood out against the boy's vivid hair as he scuffed at the frost-covered ground.
The front door creaked open behind him, and the boy tensed. A young girl's face poked out from the crack. "Gaara?" she asked, blinking her crystal green eyes. The door opened wider as a girl with blonde pigtails walked out. She rubbed her arms against the chill and walked right behind the boy. "Gaara," she said with force this time, "You can't miss your own birthday party. Now get inside." She placed her hand on her hips and glared at the back of his head.
There was a small silence and then, "No," Gaara said flatly. He stuck his hand out and let a few of the flakes fall onto his palm.
"No? What Kind of answer is 'no,' Gaara? I won't take that. You're only seven, and just because it's your birthday… Now just get in the house. I don't want you sick either." The blonde was starting to get worked up. She furrowed her brow and folded her arms across her chest.
"Why would you care, anyway?" Gaara pushed himself up off the step and stood there, back still facing the girl.
"Because I lo--," She cut herself off. She could see Gaara's fists clench and she knew she had just avoided a major destructive disaster. She forgot about using that "magic word" around him. "It's just… I'm your sister and… I just don't want to see you unhappy and…"
"Just leave me alone Temari," Gaara stated bluntly. And with hands in his pockets, he walked off around the edge of the house.
Temari was helpless and she didn't like it. She walked back into the house in a huff to find her brother.
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"This is… HE is getting out of control," Temari said, confronting her brother. "Every year he just gets more and more out of hand."
"Yeah, but it's not like we can do anything about it," Kankuro rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his shaggy dark brown hair. "We can barely touch him with our mother around, and then father…" He trailed off not needing to say more.
Brother and sister, 8 and 9 years old respectively, sat deep in thought, a heavy silence hanging between them. They both wanted their brother to fit in better in the family but Gaara's attitude made that very difficult. Neither of them could understand how such a small boy could be so unhappy. He'd been like that for as long as Temari and Kankuro could remember. Even when he'd just been brought to family as a small baby, he wasn't happy. Maybe they could understand if Gaara had been older when the tragedy had occurred, but he hadn't even had a year under his belt at the time.
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Kankuro zipped up his jacket and stuck his freezing hands in his pockets as he walked around the edge of the house, following Gaara's faint, small foot prints in the light snow that dusted the ground. He didn't get it. Half of Gaara's class was playing games inside for his birthday while Gaara sat out here sulking. When Kankuro found Gaara, he was sitting in the center of the sandbox in their backyard. Keeping his distance, Kankuro watched as Gaara picked up the frosty sand and let it slide through the cracks of his fingers, as if in a trance.
Turning his back, Kankuro shuddered thinking about past memories of sand. Their family moved a lot, from place to place, here and there. A year before, they had been living in the desert. Temari and he had come home from school one day to find boxes being packed. The only explanation was, "We can't stay here," which really wasn't much of one at all. But all the while, sideways glances were being thrown at little Gaara who was sitting in the corner, stone faced.
After one more look over his shoulder, Kankuro walked inside and took off his jacket. He then shook his head at Temari who walked over towards their mother and all the little boys and girls who were sitting around a large, rectangular table in the dining room.
Temari cleared her throat and stood on tip-toes to whisper in her mother's ear, "Just cut the cake without him."
Their mother pursed her lips and then let out a sigh. She looked around the table at all the giddy faces of the boys and girls from Gaara's school. She wondered why Gaara couldn't be more like them. Little kids were supposed to be happy before they learned of all the bad in the world. Sometimes she would start wishing Gaara hadn't been given to her to raise, but she'd quickly stop herself. Now was one of the moments. She picked up the knife on the table and began slicing the chocolate frosted birthday cake, much to the delight of the children around the table.
When she was done serving the cake she looked around the table. Some of the children happily ate their cake as if nothing was wrong, nothing was missing. She guessed that was to be expected from younger children. Hadn't she herself just thought that a few minutes ago? But she could pick out a couple faces that looked almost concerned. They looked around the table, knowing something was missing. But were they noticing Gaara was missing from his own party? Or was it something else?
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Gaara came inside slamming the door shut behind him. By now, all of his guests had left. He made his way up stairs too his bedroom, slamming that door as well, and locking it behind him. His mother and siblings had heard him come in. They all looked up from what they were doing, but no one went to try to talk to him. The only time when he was disturbed was when his mother went and softly knocked on his door, letting him know it was time for dinner. Gaara never showed up to the dinner table.
