I hate to cry...
folder
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
952
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
952
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
I hate to cry...
This is my first time posting, and I hope that I got everything allright. Just, let me know if you like it or not.
This is actually more from my childhood, and I thought it would co perfeclty with Naruto's childhood! Yay, its how i felt, how i feel. but whatever. I'm sure i'm not the only one with these problems.
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I hate to cry.
The feelings that come with it.
Everything about it.
Down to its stupid wet, salty taste.
You know when you were little, and you parents would say,
“It’s Okay, you can cry. Its good for you! Let it all out…” I never had that. I never knew what it was, what it meant. Only that after I did cry, I only felt empty and numb inside. I hated that feeling. It was better to feel the pain, the rage, the sorrow, then feel numb and empty.
No one ever told me.
No one ever told me it was Okay, or that I should stop. No one ever even noticed. So I thought ‘If they don’t know, if their disgusted, would it be because my eyes are leaking? My eyes are making these salty water trails down my face?’ I didn’t know what caused them, only that pain and hurt feelings made them leak out of my eyes.
So I tried to stop.
I would bite my tongue until I could taste the slimy, coppery taste of blood coat the inside of my mouth. It helped to ground my senses a little, every time. Until I could stop on my own, I did it. It became a habit, biting my tongue, my lips, gnawing and piercing the flesh and muscle until blood seeped out. It hurt so good. I got older, my habit continued, until I stopped crying altogether.
I could see it all around me.
I could see it everywhere, the other children with mommies and daddies to wipe the water away with their shirts and handkerchiefs. Isn’t that water dirty? Doesn’t that forbidden salty water mark them as a monster, like me? With their wailing and pain, they continued until someone that loved them came and would comfort them. Then I heard it, the name of the forbidden water, Tears. The children would ‘cry’ and mothers would come pick them up and coddle them. Is that normal? Is that what was supposed to happen?
So I watched.
I watched the children leave, abandoning me in the park like so many times before. I had tried so hard, so hard! I thought it wasn’t supposed to be like that! Children were meant to be on their own, to fend for themselves! Like me!
Maybe…
Maybe I was different? Even more so then just the ‘tears’. then the numerous scars on my lips from biting myself so hard, then the daily beatings and demeaning words, the hateful looks. Maybe it wasn’t normal. Could it be?
That I, myself, was just different is some other way? There had to be a way to find out! Looking down, on the dry dirt of the now abandoned playground, I felt so… lonely. That was the word, right? Lonely? My lone shadow stretched, as if trying to comfort the abandoned dirt with its own type of hug, smothering it with its own darkness. Yes, I was truly alone. But still, now, after these few years of smothering the instinct to cry, I found that I couldn’t anymore. Not when I was alone, not when the teenagers came to beat me, drawing blood from the ’demon’ they saw in front of them. Not when I was so broken I couldn’t move without hearing the broken bones grinding together, snapping because they had bent my arm too far back that it ripped the ligament from the bone. Not when I started to finally heal.
Is this what I’m supposed to do?
Is this what I’m supposed to do every night? Wait for someone to come find me, beat me, soak my blood into the ground? Maybe… just maybe one day I’ll be able to cry again. that’s what your supposed to do when your in pain, right? Cry, because it will make you ‘feel better?’ but for now, I’m content, watching my blood seep into the lonely dirt of the playground, my shadow casting behind me, watching the beautiful sun, that deep red day star set, seemingly crying for me.
Maybe that’s it!
My blood has become my tears. My blood, although not salty, but coppery, could be the substitute for my tears. After all, I shed it on a daily basis, its caused by pain, and I cant prevent it. Maybe this is my way of crying. Maybe, if everyone could see my blood instead of those stupid tears, maybe they’ll see me as a human, just a 5 year old boy waiting in the park, day after day, for someone to come pick him up saying,
“It’s Okay, you can bleed. Its good for you! Let it all out…”
------------------------------------------
sad, i know, i think i conveyed my feelings well, but i dont know if it floed together properly... well let me know if you want to, i have a few others that i'm mulling over.
I'm not going to say "gimme 5 review or you'll never see your precious next chapter" *invert evil laughter here* because i really dont care. criticism is nice, constuctive or no.
I only hoped that i could maybe, just maybe touch some one with this? just a little. to show that your not alone. that that ache in your heart, that tighning of your thoat is natrual. its normal, its okay to cry.
=loveless angel
This is actually more from my childhood, and I thought it would co perfeclty with Naruto's childhood! Yay, its how i felt, how i feel. but whatever. I'm sure i'm not the only one with these problems.
----------------------------------------------------------------
I hate to cry.
The feelings that come with it.
Everything about it.
Down to its stupid wet, salty taste.
You know when you were little, and you parents would say,
“It’s Okay, you can cry. Its good for you! Let it all out…” I never had that. I never knew what it was, what it meant. Only that after I did cry, I only felt empty and numb inside. I hated that feeling. It was better to feel the pain, the rage, the sorrow, then feel numb and empty.
No one ever told me.
No one ever told me it was Okay, or that I should stop. No one ever even noticed. So I thought ‘If they don’t know, if their disgusted, would it be because my eyes are leaking? My eyes are making these salty water trails down my face?’ I didn’t know what caused them, only that pain and hurt feelings made them leak out of my eyes.
So I tried to stop.
I would bite my tongue until I could taste the slimy, coppery taste of blood coat the inside of my mouth. It helped to ground my senses a little, every time. Until I could stop on my own, I did it. It became a habit, biting my tongue, my lips, gnawing and piercing the flesh and muscle until blood seeped out. It hurt so good. I got older, my habit continued, until I stopped crying altogether.
I could see it all around me.
I could see it everywhere, the other children with mommies and daddies to wipe the water away with their shirts and handkerchiefs. Isn’t that water dirty? Doesn’t that forbidden salty water mark them as a monster, like me? With their wailing and pain, they continued until someone that loved them came and would comfort them. Then I heard it, the name of the forbidden water, Tears. The children would ‘cry’ and mothers would come pick them up and coddle them. Is that normal? Is that what was supposed to happen?
So I watched.
I watched the children leave, abandoning me in the park like so many times before. I had tried so hard, so hard! I thought it wasn’t supposed to be like that! Children were meant to be on their own, to fend for themselves! Like me!
Maybe…
Maybe I was different? Even more so then just the ‘tears’. then the numerous scars on my lips from biting myself so hard, then the daily beatings and demeaning words, the hateful looks. Maybe it wasn’t normal. Could it be?
That I, myself, was just different is some other way? There had to be a way to find out! Looking down, on the dry dirt of the now abandoned playground, I felt so… lonely. That was the word, right? Lonely? My lone shadow stretched, as if trying to comfort the abandoned dirt with its own type of hug, smothering it with its own darkness. Yes, I was truly alone. But still, now, after these few years of smothering the instinct to cry, I found that I couldn’t anymore. Not when I was alone, not when the teenagers came to beat me, drawing blood from the ’demon’ they saw in front of them. Not when I was so broken I couldn’t move without hearing the broken bones grinding together, snapping because they had bent my arm too far back that it ripped the ligament from the bone. Not when I started to finally heal.
Is this what I’m supposed to do?
Is this what I’m supposed to do every night? Wait for someone to come find me, beat me, soak my blood into the ground? Maybe… just maybe one day I’ll be able to cry again. that’s what your supposed to do when your in pain, right? Cry, because it will make you ‘feel better?’ but for now, I’m content, watching my blood seep into the lonely dirt of the playground, my shadow casting behind me, watching the beautiful sun, that deep red day star set, seemingly crying for me.
Maybe that’s it!
My blood has become my tears. My blood, although not salty, but coppery, could be the substitute for my tears. After all, I shed it on a daily basis, its caused by pain, and I cant prevent it. Maybe this is my way of crying. Maybe, if everyone could see my blood instead of those stupid tears, maybe they’ll see me as a human, just a 5 year old boy waiting in the park, day after day, for someone to come pick him up saying,
“It’s Okay, you can bleed. Its good for you! Let it all out…”
------------------------------------------
sad, i know, i think i conveyed my feelings well, but i dont know if it floed together properly... well let me know if you want to, i have a few others that i'm mulling over.
I'm not going to say "gimme 5 review or you'll never see your precious next chapter" *invert evil laughter here* because i really dont care. criticism is nice, constuctive or no.
I only hoped that i could maybe, just maybe touch some one with this? just a little. to show that your not alone. that that ache in your heart, that tighning of your thoat is natrual. its normal, its okay to cry.
=loveless angel