Prophecy (Naruto fanfic)

Chapter Sixteen: Story Time

When something—or should I say someone tapped me on the shoulder, I jumped like 5 feet into the air.

“Are you okay?” Asuma asked. How did he find me?

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Since you ran towards the bench. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Asuma asked concern in his voice.

“I’m okay really Asuma, I’m just thinking,” I said with a sigh, looking down at the floor. Asuma lit a fag then handed it to me before lighting his own.

“You sure? Your hands are bleeding and everything,” he asked, his voice still laced with concern.

“No. She’s not fine.”

I knew who it was. Asuma did, too. Julie walked over and stood in front of Asuma and me.

“She blew up at Sasuke—at all of us because of something Kankuro did,” she told Asuma.

“That so?” he asked. He looked between me and Julie, and then said, “I’ll wait over there. Seems you girls have something to talk about more than I do.”

He got to his feet and walked a distance away. Julie took his place beside me.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?” Julie asked. “What did Kankuro do?”

I sighed. “I just wanted to play a joke on Sasuke, but Kankuro overstepped his boundaries,” I told her, emphasis on overstepped. What, he did!

“Ah, so he did some stuff and now you’re confused?” Julie asked. I sighed and nodded.

“It’s not just that,” I said after a moment. “It’s a lot to do with past stuff. My past stuff.”

Julie hummed. “Well, like I’ve said before. I’m here to listen.”

I took a long drag of my fag and sighed out. Then I started telling her about my past.

…

Tam

My real mom and dad tried to kill me when I was six. They left me a "present" in the kitchen--what kind of present is gas fire? I cried out for them to help me. I was just a little kid, and didn't know they were trying to kill me until I saw the flames tearing up everything. I ran to the window and banged on it as hard as I could, trying to get the attention of someone--anyone to come save me.

That was when Jake came into my life.

He singlehandedly broke into my house and saved me from the fire. He  took me in with his girlfriend, Gemmer. They were my new mom and dad. My life was perfect again.

But just for a moment.

My old parents--if I can still call them that without bile in my throat and hatred burning in my chest--found me. They attacked me for “running away”, killed Jake and Gemmer for “abducting their child”. Luckily as they dragged me out the house, the neighbors had already called the police. My parents left me in the yard and disappeared to God knows where. I was glad they were gone; but my happiness doesn't really last, now does it?

I was put into a care home. I didn't care that I was eight--I started getting into gangs and fighting all the time. The police--all of 'em--knew me on a first name basis and put me in care again.

Every home Teddy, my social worker, moved me to was abusive and demeaning. They only faked their love for me so they'd get the benefits of having foster children. They never loved me. But they sure as fuck let me know that they owned me with all that abuse. But I never let them "own" me. They'd never own me, not even if they thought that for a second.