Side Stories

Entry 2: And so it Begins…

SHIT!! I’m so sorry, I almost forgot to write in you. God damn if I would have done that Mrs. Kaisai would have been pissed. I’ve never seen her mad before but I’m sure it’s not pretty. I should ask Sasuke, I’m sure he’s seen her angry…Whatever it’s not a big deal, I’m writing now so that’s what matters right? Just fucking agree with me…okay…hold on I have to go and see what the fuck I talked to you about in the first entry. Don’t bitch at me, I don’t remember what the fuck I said in the first entry…did I mention how much I don’t want to do this writing shit? Okay I’ll be right back I gotta flip the pages, don’t go anywhere…not that you can anyways.

Okay, I’m back, I wasn’t gone that long so there’s no point in putting in breaks. No pretty break art for you right now~ :p

But yeah I was going to tell you my story up to when I met Sasuke so I’ll just start that than considering that I didn’t really do anything exciting today. Shit…I really don’t want to relive this past of mine. I would much rather it just fucking stay in the past. It would make me feel much more comfortable. I promised you, though. I promised that I would tell you my story so here it goes…

Before I start, I just want to say, this will be rough for me to do. There may be a fair bit of breaks just so I can walk away. But, I should do this. I should tell someone about my past. And lucky you, you get to hear about it. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m telling you this. Out of anyone and anything I can tell you can’t talk back to me. You just get to sit here and listen to me talk about the good times and the bad times. Okay, for real this time.


So, I guess I should just start with what I remember. That would be good right? Well, mom was so kind and sweet. She had beautiful flowing burnet hair (she’s the one that I get my hair from. I’m so fucking glad I got her hair. I never have to worry about a bad hair day, but on the downside, I actually have to use styling gel to get my hair to spike the way it does. Don’t you dare tell anyone or else…) She also had hazel eyes. Her eyes were green most of the time, though. Her facial expressions were always so soft and kind. Mom was such a strong women and she’s my role model and hero. Though I feel like what I am today is nothing like my mother.

My father on the other hand…my father is a piece of shit. He was an absolute fucking asshole and I hate him with a passion. I wish that I could give him every beating that he ever gave my mother and myself. I just…


I’m sorry I needed to breathe. My father still pisses me off to no end. I know that you should never hate your parents, they’re the ones that raised me and I hold a mixture of both mom and his DNA on my own but still…okay…okay, I’ll focus on his traits. He had black short hair that he always kept slicked back. I got my eyes from him. He also had hazel eyes but his were a mixture of green and gold. There was no brown in them. Though, I don’t have that much gold in my eyes…there’s really next to none. Somedays there’s a sliver around my pupil, but that’s it. I have his board shoulders and build. I guess I can’t really complain, with working out it’s fairly easy to see the results after only a couple of weeks. His personality though…he was an asshole. He was an abuser, he beat both my mother and me. That piece of shit was also a smoker, a gambler, and an alcoholic. He just was an all-around bad person. There was so much wrong with him and I pray to god and all that is good that I will never be like him.

I am an only child. Mom tried to have more than just me. I guess they tried multiple times, but mom had miscarriage after miscarriage. Mom told me after about six miscarriages they finally had me. Don’t get me wrong I’m really happy to be alive and that I was born, I just wish that I would have been able to have a sibling. Whether it be older or younger, I think that it would have been amazing. I love my mother and I wish that she could have had a much better life…I wish I could have done something for her…why did she have to be taken from me…I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself…I need to think.


Like I said before, dad was an alcoholic. We were a middle-class family and lived comfortably. We lived in a country town and we had about three acres of land, (yes I remember that, don’t judge) The frustrating thing was that four out of seven days a week dad was coming home late. I remember waking up late at night to mom and dad arguing. It was never really about money; it was more so about how dad was coming home late. And when I say late I mean 2-3 in the morning. When he had to be up by 6 in order to get to work by 8 Saturday and Sunday are 2 of the 4 days that he would get drunk. I guess on the weekends I can’t say he got drunk it was more so he was plastered. Yes, if we had to go to something for his job or for moms, or if there was a family reunion he would behave himself and only have a few beers. He would actually act like a father and a loving husband. But, honestly, it was more just for show it seems. There were many times where I would be with mom and she would be crying. She would be crying in the room, alone, after she had sent me to bed. I know she never wanted me to see her cry, but I couldn’t just let her cry alone. I wanted to comfort her. “Nero, never treat the one you love like this if you find someone you really like treat them with respect and cherish them with all your heart.” Those words that my mother said have always stuck with me.

When I was five mom got sick…when I was in the waiting room with dad I remember his leg bouncing and his knuckles on both his hands turning white from how tense and nervous he was. He smelled like a cigarette. March 24th, my dad’s birthday, my mom was diagnosed with cancer… it was colon cancer. She went through so much. The night that she had to stay in the hospital dad went out drinking and left me with my grandparents for the night…at two in the morning the police knocked on the door to my grandparent’s house. I’m a light sleeper, I always have been. Mom said when I was a baby I slept through everything and anything. But as I got older I turned into a light sleeper. I don’t know why I just did? But anyways I got up with my grandparents. Grandpa made me stay back with grandma as he opened the door. Dad was plastered and was driving…he hydroplaned and flew off the road into a tree in a family’s yard. The police said he died on impact…

Okay, I have to stop, I’m crying…I’m sorry I’ll try again in the next entry…I just can’t do it right now. Sorry…I’ll talk to you later.