Barely Holding On (OcxOC Naruto story)

6~ Words That Become Knives

TW~ Mentions of character death, Abuse, self harm, Violence and language in this chapter

~Rino POV

He has always blamed me and Jules for her death, so it's nothing new to me, but it stings more this time because Jules isn't here with me giving me strength, like she normally did during these situations. 

He blamed us because we were the ones that wanted the food she went out to get that day, so in his eyes, we were just as guilty as the people who actually killed her. I was the one he blamed the most though because I was the one that suggested that she go out, and get food. 

Sometimes I actually believed what he said about me being responsible, and in those times when I did, Jules would always find a way to help me, but she's gone now, and no one can help me now. So now I know I'm responsible. No one else is. Not even those rogue ninjas. I stood up, preparing myself for the next one, knowing well enough that he wasn't gonna stop anytime soon.

His next blow was the worst yet. His fist struck me in my abdomen, right between my ribs knocking the wind out of me as I collapsed, coughing and gasping for air. He continued punching me, and kicking me. I hate this. I want to fight back against him so bad, but I'm not brave enough to do that. I wish I was.

He kicked me in the face again, causing blood to drip from my nose. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at the monster in front of me. My thoughts were getting distraught. Was he actually a monster? Was I a monster? Did I deserve this? Would I ever live in peace? Could I escape him?

Can I ever be loved again?

That one was the biggest question. Could I? Maybe. Probably not. But, someone maybe. Julo? No way. He's too good of a person to be able to love someone like me. Right?

I was kicked again in the stomach, blood shooting out of my mouth. A puddle of blood was forming on the floor. After a while he stopped for a minute. I assumed he was tired, and didn't want to do it anymore.

He kicked me in the face one last time for good measure. 

"Now clean that shit up," he said pointing to the blood on the floor, "I want every bit gone in 10 minutes or I'm going to do that again, even worse this time." 

I slowly got up, shaking as I did so, trying to make sure he didn't notice. I grabbed a wet towel and cleaned the floor up. I hate Saturdays. 

When I was done, and he checked it, and left, I went to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

TW Self Harm

I grabbed the razor out of the drawer in front of me, his words still ringing through my head. With each word, I made a cut on my wrist, next to older scars. 

Useless. 

Selfish. 

Stupid. 

Burden. 

Waste of space. 

Unlovable. 

Then images of the fun times me and Jules had popped into my head as I watched the blood flow down my arm. The images just made everything worse, with every cut I went deeper and deeper. I looked at my wrist, covered with blood and old scars as the new ones started to form.

I looked up at myself in the mirror, not seeing myself, but someone undeserving of love, someone who's only existence is to suffer. Someone who hates themselves. Someone who wishes they could be different, and free. Someone who doesn't want to be here anymore. Someone who wishes they could just let go. Someone who is hanging on by one little hair, that one hair being him.

End of TW

Hellooooo. I'm trying to lighten up the mood after that chapter. OOH SPICE! Don't worry I always got that angsty, crazy, weird, very much dark, and very random storylines. >:D
Anyways, thanks so much for reading, It means a lot. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have an awesome day/night. And finally, YOU ARE LOVED STUPID BITCH! :)

~Z

Total word count~ 696