Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

This story might actually sound familiar to you. Why? Because it's based on the song Concrete angel by Matina Mcbride.
I didn't use the lyrics much, you might see some in there but I've turned them into my own and putting them more of a story than a song.

I was listening to the song on my way home tonyt on the bus, and all these images came to mind and I couldn't help thinking of Naruto.

A young boy walks to school slowly swinging the lunch he packed. He had packed it by himself, since his birth he has been an orphan. Living alone at a small apartment. He'd go to shops but no one would want to sell to him, so he'd have to pack his lunch from the left overs he would gather each night.

No other children his age, above or younger, knows what he's holding inside. Not
even him, he just knows that the adults in the village would call him a monster every day when he'd walk past them. They'd shun him, glare at him and throw rocks at him like a stray cat.

As he continued to school, he was wearing the same clothes that he wore yesterday, and beneath those clothes he would hide the bruises from the night before. Drunk villagers had broken into his house, beating and abusing him. Calling him vicious names.

The teacher looked at him as he walked in, he noticed but he didn't ask.
He realises it's too hard to ask when it's too hard to see the pain behind that mask that he wears. The boy would smile and seek attention by causing trouble, just to be acknowledged.
Bearing the burden of a secret inside,
sometimes he wishes he was just never born so it would save him from all this pain he feels.

The young boy cries in the middle of the night. His pain filled screams muffled from a bag they stuffed over his head.
The neighbours hear, but they turn out the lights, they shake their heads from the cruelty but they don't want to get involved.
A fragile and innocent soul caught in the hands of fate. He prays that he'll be fine but their hits become harder as he blacks out.
Now when morning comes it'll be too late...

A statue stands in a shaded place, far from the village and at the back of the cemetry where no on would go. An angel boy smiling to the skies. His name is written on a graffitied rock. A broken heart that the village forgot.

The statue stands, hard as a stone, through the wind and the rain.
In a world that he can't rise above, he could feel, that he was tied by hatred to this place, the place that hurt him, but his dreams gave him wings and he
flew to a place, a place where he's loved.

-
A few days later, a single rose was placed into the angel boys hands by a young raven haired boy. The boy could have sworn he saw a tear slide down the statues face.