1. Bloody Beginning
▶┆Chapter one [1]
♡
❝When I think about it, I'd much rather be dead than alive.❞
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✿.。.:* ☆:**:. ѕαкυяα'ѕ ρ.σ.ν .:**:.☆*.:。.✿
MY BODY SPIRALS across the bleak room from the force of the blow. Suppressing a yelp of pain, I clutch my bruised midriff. I hastily wipe away the crimson blood dribbling from my mouth. With wild eyes, I frantically search for the strength needed to stand. I knew fighting back was pointless...what good would it do? Fighting back would only lead to more agony. I was no match for him; in moments like these, I was utterly useless.
My vile father continued his aggressive assault on me, with a burning grin on his lined face—tears bud in my green eyes, threatening to gush over. I fight the urge; I refuse to cry in front of him. I manage to find the energy to roughly scrub them away. Crying displayed weakness; my mother had always said there was never a reason to cry. That crying was only for the weak. I now know my mother was naive and foolish.
Crying does not signify that one is weak. For if that were true, I'd be dead. If I were as weak as she claimed, my body would have given up the first time my father had marred my skin. I'd be a cold, pale body rotting in the earth. Like frost set upon a sweet flower, I'd just be gone. And the truth was, I sometimes thought it sounded pleasant. To be just gone. To be free from the shackles of life, to be able to laugh in the face of death with an excited grin.
I'd have no one to mourn me anyway; no friends, no family. I was already alone, and I wasn't even dead yet.
Do you know how people say when you're about to die, your life will flash before your eyes? It's true―whenever my father beats me, I always feel as if I am going to die. As if this will be the last time my lungs will gasp for air. And then some memory will play in my head like a movie.
"Ha! Did you really think we were friends? Don't make me laugh. I was just using you, forehead! You made me look good in front of Sasuke-kun!...To think you thought he actually "liked" you. Ha, don't make me laugh. You're unlovable."
My mouth threatened to twitch into a bitter smirk. There it was. The same memory that would haunt my thoughts. I could never seem to escape its suffocating grip. Maybe the words wouldn't have hurt as much if I didn't believe them. I believed every word she said. That was why every time I remembered that day, it felt like I had been cut by a razor. She had only spoken what I had already accepted. What I was already thinking.
A few minutes later, my father finally lost the disturbingly bloodthirsty look in his dark eyes. He started to leave the room, his footsteps echoing as he plodded away. He calmly wiped the sweat from his brow. As if everything he had just done was nothing. As if my pain was nothing...
As if I was nothing.
The floorboards squeak in protest when he suddenly stops. He slowly turns around, his usually hostile and angry eyes glaring into my own. I should be deathly afraid of him. Paralyzed with fear. I should hate him with all my heart, but I don't.
He was all I had left of my family. All I had left of anything...of anyone. My mother was gone. Just like a pretty flower plucked from a garden. Stunning, radiant, and here one second, and the next dead wilted, and gone. I had a sister once too. She had deserted me here. She had left in the middle of the dark night, cloaking herself in the blackness. My mom had been wrong. The weak don't cry, they run. They abandon the ones they love to save themselves.
"Sakura, you're listening to me aren't you?!" My father inquires, and I can tell he is already growing impatient and angry.
I want to shout back; to snarl and lunge myself like a cat. To show him what it feels like to be weak and powerless. But I just stare back at him; blank-faced, with no emotion. I keep my mind empty.
"Of course, sir," I say politely, even though it was obviously forced. I can feel my fists clenching at my sides, begging to unleash a world of pain.
"Good, now go to bed and don't come downstairs, or else!" He snapped, trying to help support his threat.
I wince as I put weight on my body. It hurt like hell, but I still rise to my feet and limp up the stairs. I slam the door to my small attic room and release a heavy sigh. It was tiny, but I loved it. The attic contained my mother and sister's old belongings because my father couldn't stand to look at them. All discarded and shoved up here like trash. Funny, considering this was where I slept. Did that mean my dad saw me as garbage too? Probably.
I used my sister's old paints to beautify my room. It was the only good thing she had done for me in years. Since I didn't have any paper, I would paint intricate roses and paintings of a beautiful girl with long pink hair on the walls. The girl I wish I was.
I spent a lot of time in my room; it was to be expected. My father preferred me being out of sight. I'm pretty sure it's because I remind him of my mother. Once, I had been locked in here for almost 3 weeks.
I almost starved to death, and only survived because I had a jug of water for painting stored up here. I had learned a lesson the hard way. I never wanted to make that mistake again, so I stashed food and water under a loose floorboard.
The one positive side of being locked in here was I didn't have to go to school and see all my classmates' ugly faces. Ugh, they were awful! I had no regrets when admitting I despised them all.
By everyone, I mean everyone. They were all liars; backstabbers, who only looked out for themselves. Some were worse than others, but I knew better than anyone that teenagers painted on a facade at school. They acted sweet to those they wanted something from. But if you had nothing to offer, like me, then you were deemed nothing.
Less than nothing actually.
They loathed me too. For what shallow reasons these popular kids hated me, I wasn't sure. They would claim it was because of my forehead and freaky pink hair. Or it was how nerdy I was. But that made absolutely no sense to me. If someone's intelligent, shouldn't they be admired? Shouldn't someone smart be liked? Their excuses were less than nothing to me. Ino had been the one to tell everyone about how insecure I was about my forehead. So it bothered me a little. But my hair? I loved my hair. It was unique, and why would I want to be like everyone else? In a world full of roses, isn't it better to be a lily? And to shame me for my intelligence? I'm sorry, am I supposed to be upset that I'm smarter than you?
Ino Yamanaka...She used to be my best friend. Back then, she had made life worth living. She hadn't known about the abuse, and now I'm glad she didn't. If everyone knew about that, things would only get worse. We had been like two peas in a pod; inseparable. I spent so many nights at her house claiming I wanted to have a girl's night when really it was to avoid my drunk father. She had been my safety valve; my light in the storm. But in middle school, it had all ended. And all over a boy.
Sasuke Uchiha...the first boy who had ever caught my eye. Maybe it was the dark look in his eyes or the fire that lay dormant in him. But little ol' me had fallen head over heels. Not that I had ever really known what love was.
The terrible thing was that Ino liked him too. I had been faced with turmoil I had never expected; did I choose my best friend or my crush? If I had grown up like a regular girl, maybe I would have chosen my crush. Maybe I would have thought of friends as replaceable. But, all I had was Ino.
There was no way I'd choose Sasuke if it meant I'd hurt her. But it hadn't mattered anyway.
She had left without a second thought, leaving me alone. Unlike my mother and sister, she wasn't dead or far away. She was right in front of my eyes. And I got the privilege of watching her grow into a cruel person. The privilege of watching her leave me behind. She became friends with Karin Uzumaki, a redhead obsessed with Sasuke. Ino claimed it was because "Sakura, we just aren't a good match-up anymore". But I knew the truth―it was to become more popular. It was because I wasn't enough for her. I wasn't good enough anymore.
After meeting Karin, I decided if she would choose such a vain person over me, then I didn't need her.
I didn't need anyone.
Karin was the type of person who found pleasure in hurting others she deemed beneath her. One of her favorite hobbies is harassing me. She thinks I like Sasuke, which in her mind justifies her cruel treatment of me. Of course, I had found Sasuke cute when he first came. Every girl did, though!
But I learned quickly, that he wasn't worth the time of day. He was rude and hateful. When I was younger, I attempted to confess my feelings. It was after Ino had left me, and I had felt like I had nothing to lose. Well, except for my heart. He had told me he would "never like a girl like me".
He called me ugly several times after that and seemed to find it amusing to hurt me emotionally. After a while, I began to find humor in him. It stemmed from hatred, and I personally now poke fun at his appearance to piss him off. There was a humorous nickname I had created based on his weird hairstyle. I thought it looked similar to a chicken or duck's tail feathers. A duck ass. I nearly laugh at the thought.
I broke out of my thoughts when my eyes started to droop. Oh, how I craved for a doughnut! I slowly fell asleep thinking about eating doughnuts, and Sasuke getting attacked and eaten by a giant doughnut. The thought brought a smile to my pink lips.
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