You said you'd never leave me,

You promised me your heart,

I wish you didn't lie that day,

Coz it tore me all apart.

--

Everyone,

I'm not going to say that I'm sorry… Coz I'm not. Why should I be, it's not like you ever gave a fuck about me anyway… I'm ending this now. Mom and dad, fuck you… I hope you die.

Sakura.

"Sakura what are you doing?" asks a stern voice.

"Nothing sir," I mutter looking up to him, I slide the piece of paper carefully under my book and pretend to start work. After a few minutes I lean down on my arms and looks sideways at a boy with dark rimmed eyes and a stone cold look. After a few minutes he tears of a piece of paper from his book and scribbles something before throwing it at me.

What?

His writing is messy, or maybe he just doesn't care how it looks, like his hair. The only thing he seems to bother with is his eyes, which were always traced with black.

Hmm nothing…You look different today. What's your name again? I throw the note back at him.I never really asked his name, we just sat next to each other because the teacher told us too. He's always interesting to watch as well, not like I ever do my work. I love watching him draw because he doesn't draw normal things. He draws things that have to do with songs, if that makes sense. One time I made him give me a picture he drew of someone in a bathtub with their hand hanging over the side, dripping with blood from their wrists. Also their eyes had thick eyeliner on and next to it, it said "Cut my wrists and black my eyes". He has a good taste in music. I pinned it to my wall in full view for my mom when she came in to get my laundry. Boy did I get a lecture that night.

Gaara is all his reply says. I don't bother writing anymore; instead I avert my eyes to the paper he had just gotten out to draw on. He glances at me every few seconds and I stare up at him questioningly; I can't really see it from this angle. After 10 minutes he stops and scribbles out a few lines of text. He hands me the paper and I take it curiously. My eyes dilate against their own will; I glance up at him then back at the paper. He had drawn me, shit it looks just like me, and next to the picture is his unmistakable writing it says

"Torn up photos and lonely nights,

Cursing, crying and drawn out fights,
Make up, sex and a brand new start,
Broken promises for broken hearts,"

"Sounds like a cool song," I whisper.

"Not really, the bands pretty shit actually," he mutters back. I lie my head back down on my desk and look up at him.

"I wish I could've gotten to know you," I say in barely a whisper. I sit back up for a few seconds and add something to my note.

Ps. Say goodbye to Gaara for me and thank him for his drawings.

I fold it up and cross my arms over it before resting my head on my arms again. Why had I even come to class, I sigh heavily and reach down to my bag and pull out my MP3 player and attempt to put it on and listen to it discreetly, to avoid being screamed at by Ibiki-sensei. After successfully putting it on I sit back up and look for the note I'd just folded up. I hiss instinctively under my breath but it ceases when Gaara's pale hand slips it back onto my desk. I look sideways at him, no expression illustrated on my face.

"You could always say Goodbye in person," he mutters to me, looking straight ahead. The bell rings, and I shove my things into my bag and pass by him with haste.

"Goodbye," I mumble, trying hard to keep my voice void of emotion.

After leaving the classroom I almost run down the hallways till I get outside, then I go over the oval to the old toilet blocks. No one ever comes here so it doesn't matter. No one will even notice me go there. I dart in and lock the door of the disabled people's bathroom. The florescent light flickers every few seconds, I glance around at the stale looking room, graffiti covered walls. This was the last thing I was going to see, that's depressing. I slip off my jumper and throw it in the corner and cringe on seeing the deep gouges and scars on my arms. I blink angrily, no way am I gonna die in here, I reach into my bag and pull out a razor and some sleeping pills. I imagine that most people would be scared stiff when they did this, but it was just ritual for me, I'd done this so many times before, but this would be the last time. I slowly let the sharp almost intoxicating blade tear slowly through the pathetically fragile skin, then repeating my actions on the other arm. I shakily drop the razor blade into the sink; I open the cap of the jar, pouring a handful of pills into my palms. I swallow them one by one before calmly putting my jumper back on, the blood soaking through the thin fabric. I wince as it rips at the recently opened skin. I pick up my surprisingly heavy bag and walk out. A few metres away from the bathroom there's a big tree, I slump heavily against it and slide down the trunk, tilting my head back as the pain slowly sets in.

"I thought you were ending it," a soft almost shy voice reaches my ears and I open my eyes half a centimetre.

"Go away," I mumble, yanking the note out of my pocket and sitting it on my lap. His eyes wander to my crimson stained sleeves. He then looks me in the eyes, which were still open half a centimetre. He bends down next to me and picks up my left arm, I try to push him off but I'd already lost a considerable amount of blood, and he was stronger. He slowly eases the sleeve of my jacket up and half cringes at the sight before him. I almost smirk.

"I told you to go away," I slur out, the sleeping pills slowly setting in. Too slowly. He ignores my statement and pulls scissors out of the front pocket of his bag. He hacks away at the sleeve of my jumper and then pulls it off and wraps it tightly around my wrists, and then he does the same to my other arm. He raises me up and cradles me in his arms.

"What are you doing?" I try to say, only half the words coming out. He groans something and starts running across the oval, on getting near where people sit I hear many gasps. Suddenly everything fades to black, and I feel nothing.

--

The lines on the note from Gaara were taken from a song called "broken promises for broken heart," by She wants revenge. Haven't actually heard the song but it has nice lyrics, apparently their not very good lol, the poem at the top is by me, yer I'm shit with poems... It's not a one-shot, that's just chapter 1. .

Edited by the almighty editing skills of Dan.

(Dan: Yeah right, you barely made any mistakes this time)

PLEASE REVIEWS!!!