A/N: First Naruto drabble! I was looking at some anti-Sasuke argument (I'm currently pro-Sasuke) and realized…things aren't always what they seem. Oh, and keep in mind that Sasuke's sixteen like the data book says. His clan was massacred nine years ago. You can read this without keeping up with the manga, but it's recommended to have read it before this.

SUMMARY: When you look in the mirror, who do you see? Sasukecentric drabble. SasuNaru OR SasuSaku. Cutting, character death.

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Naruto, Sasuke would probably be an emo cutter. Good thing I don't, huh?

Shattered Glass

When you look in the mirror, who do you see?

Here I stand in front of this glass. My reflection stares back, but it's not me. Those dark eyes aren't mine. That spiky hair doesn't belong to me. That rippled and contorted flesh is not my own. This isn't me.

I'm not who you think I am.

I've been dead for nine years.

When you looked at me back then, who did you see?

Uchiha Sasuke.

The cool, calm, genius?

The beautiful strong survivor?

Or the silent but deadly person who trains throughout the night?

None of them.

No, things aren't always what they seem. I used to be that way. Back nine years ago. And I've kept that farce up with these walls, these walls surrounding me. These walls that prevent me from getting to close to anyone, these walls that suffocate me.

Bloodshed. Screaming. Suffering. Dying.

That night nine years ago, I lost myself. That night, I died.

When I look in the mirror, who do I see?

When I let the walls around me fall down, I see the truth. That pitiful reflection in the mirror is me.

Uchiha Sasuke.

The weak failure.

Uchiha Sasuke.

The person who was powerless to save his family and ran away instead.

Uchiha Sasuke.

The shameful person who only lives to kill his brother, to relieve himself of the guilt.

Uchiha Sasuke.

Tired.

I'm tired of this. I always have been. Tired of living up to your expectations, tired of trying harder to prove myself to you, tired of being lonely but too scared to let anyone in, too scared of possibly losing you.

Tired of living.

This mirror shows me an exhausted and useless weakling with the colorless mangled flesh. A river of crimson and life flows down the ripped arms, dripping onto the floor.

I don't want this to be me.

With a crash, my fist makes contact with the mirror.

Smash.

Shattered glass rains down upon me, slashing deep into my skin. The mirror lies in pieces on the floor, splashes of blood decorating them. Tears of blood trickle down my white face. My fists are shaking from the torture of it all.

And I glance back at the pieces of the shattered mirror. Those dark mangekyou sharingan eyes stare at me, mocking me.

I wish for yesterday.

You always lived for the future. I always lived for the past. You can grab the future, but all I can do is reach for the past. What's done is done and there's no going back.

My soul died nine years ago. You were close to reviving it, but hatred and guilt left me broken. Broken just like this bloodstained glass.

My body needs to join my soul.

Goodbye.

I reach for the shard with those eyes and stick it deep into my chest, slicing at whatever is in there. There is no pain; only numbness.

And my destroyed heart joins the shattered glass.

A/N: Please review! Thanks for reading.