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I throw back another shot of scotch, and stare at the door. I can hear the sound of my heart pounding in my ears as wait, listening for the sound of the car; her car. With the thought of her in my head, the sick feeling returned to my stomach and I took another shot. I wasn't sure how many I'd taken, but it was well over ten and it was starting to kick in.

I wasn't too concerned with the fact that I was losing myself in an intoxicated state, but then again, I couldn't think much. My mind was fuzzed to the point where my thoughts were more like just colors. Scotch mended my pains, and made me feel less tense. The feeling of anticipation was temporarily locked up in it's cage, and my mood stayed mellow.

Shifting on the couch, my empty hand searches blindly for the bottle, accidentally knocking it all over the carpet. A sigh passed through my lips, and I placed the shot glass on the glass table beside me. I fumble in my pocket for my packet of cigarettes, pulling them out and lighting one.

If you're wondering who I'm waiting for, I'm waiting for the devious mistress who called herself mine. She was the magician who had tricked me into believing that what we had was real. She was, sadly, my wife.

My wife and I have been married for at least three years. Three damned years full of nothing but awkward conversations and lying faces. That's a lie, 'cause you see I never noticed my wife's lies until today. I never noticed the fact that she came home in different outfits than the one she had left in, and I never noticed that she always called me by a different name.

But today, I saw her leave with him. I watched her with wide eyes as she kissed him on the lips, forgetting her excuse for going out. She had broken my heart, and tonight, I'd be prepared to break her down.

I'd make her strip down to her underwear and watch as she would stutter, the truth finally becoming known. After that, I wasn't so sure about what would happen. Would I hurt her? Would I put my hands on her and physically beat her until she was red and purple all over?

The answer stayed unanswered as I heard a car door slam. Though I hadn't planned on it, I stayed seated silently. My eyes continued to focus on the door as my pulse quickened exceptionally. Oh yes...how surprised she would be when she opened the door and saw me here, waiting with my heart already broken.

My hands became tight fists, my body becoming consumed by warmth. How dare she do this to me?! She promised that we'd always be together, and that she'd bare my children; children that may not even have the same DNA as me! She said she loved me, but what I goddamn lie that was. Didn't she know I loved her?! Did I not give her the life she wanted?!

I never lied to her, and I always noticed when she cut her hair. I spent countless hours shopping with her, spending my money on her greediness. I worked only four days I week so I could spend more time with her, and I had moved two times to satisfy her. And still, she broke my heart like I didn't matter, or something.

The door opened, and there she stood. Her hair was messy, and her make-up had been redone. Her neck was covered with hickeys, ones I hadn't given because she despised them so much. She was wearing skinny jeans, ones that she had been wearing when she left, but she was wearing an over sized t-shirt that smelt of cologne.

Her beautiful green eyes widened as her jaw dropped to the floor. "Honey, what are you-"

"I saw you," I interrupt, not taking my eyes off of her. She seems shocked, but quickly finds her composure, forcing a fake smile unto her face.

"Naruto," she says sweetly, like I'm a child or something. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw him, Sakura. Wanna explain that? What's his name, Neji or something?" She had called me that a few times, so I was merely assuming that was his name. Her face flushed, her lips twitching at the corners as she struggled to defend herself. My patience was slowly deteriorating, so I stood up from the couch and walked towards her. Sakura backed away from me, her back hitting the door gently.

A small smile came unto my face. "You just love hurting me, huh?"

"Naruto, I-"

"Get out."

"What?" she asked. "Naruto, you're drunk. You don't know what you're talking about! Let's talk about this in the morning, okay?"

And that's when my temper got out of control. "Damn it, Sakura, you can't lie to me forever! What his name, Sakura?! Does he love? Does he treat you better than me, hm? Does he fuck you better than I ever could?!"

I spring towards her, grabbing her wrists and yanking her into the living room. She struggles against me, begging me to stop but I won't. No. She hurt me. She needed to feel the pain I was feeling.

"Stop! Stop! Please, just stop!" Sakura screams, freeing herself from my grasp. I smack her as hard as I can across her face, causing her to stumble back unto the coffee table. She falls backward, landing on the table. I pounce, landing on her. My weight seems to crush her, making it hard for her to breath. She's getting desperate now because she starts to bite me and scratch my back. Doesn't she know that only makes me even angrier?

"I loved you!" I shouted. "I gave you everything you wanted!"

My hands clench her throat, tightening my grip. Her hands grab unto mine and she tries to get them off. I tighten my grip so much my hand starts to cramp, but I don't stop.

"Na..to...sto...p," she chokes out. Her face is turning to a shade which a cross between purple and blue. Her eyes are leaking tears, and she's growing limp under me. Suddenly, she takes her last breath and she stops struggling. I can't feel her movement anymore; all I feel is the eerie stillness of her beneath me. I lie there, staring into her eyes.

Her beautiful jade eyes no longer hold life, and still stare up with blank eyes. Her mouth is still ajar, like she's still pleading with me. Guilt runs through my body like my blood, eating away the leftover anger. Frustrated tears run down my tanned cheeks, my hands pushing me off from the table. I stare down at her, my vision clouded by guilt and tears, as I suddenly long to hold her in my arms; I want to listen to heartbeat once more.

How could I have done this?! I murdered my sweet angel with my own hands, and watched the life slip from her! I was a monster!

The temptation to break down and fall to the ground crept unto me, but I could not have a mental breakdown just yet. I sat myself down on the couch gently, my eyes never leaving the corpse that just laid there. My hands pulled out my cellphone from my pocket, and I quickly dialed 9-1-1.

Now, you're probably wondering 'why'. The answer is very simple, actually. Regardless of my reasoning, I deserved punishment. I committed a crime, and it was time to face my judgment. Prison would give me to time to think; to get my life back together.

"Hello, 9-1-1 emergency. How can I help you?" a calm voice asked. For a moment, I could not reply. What could I say to her? How exactly could I explain this situation to someone calmly? "Hello?"

"Y-yes. My name is Uzumaki, Naruto and....," my voice broke off as I stared at her again. Her skin was still tinted a purple, but it was returning to it's normal peach. "And, I just murdered my wife."

._.

"How do you find the defendant?" the judge asked. The weight of the handcuffs seemed a little heavier on my wrists I sat in the cold wooden chair, waiting for my fate to be decided. The sullen faces of the jury had already given me my answer before the words were spoken.

"We find the defendant, Uzumaki Naruto, guilty of murder in the first degree," a woman with long, blonde hair replied with a strong voice. Her gaze met mine, and I could see the hatred that burned in her eyes. It was the same stare I had been receiving for weeks from women who sat in the courtroom, ready to protest if somehow I was found innocent. I couldn't blame them; I'd probably feel the same way if I were sitting in their position. There was no way that they could feel any empathy for me because I hadn't tried to use the insanity defense.

Though, when I actually committed the crime, I wasn't in my usual mindset, but I new fully well the consequences of my choice. It was not a planned murder. No no no. If it was, I would have waited with a shotgun in my hand and my aim directly at her middle. There would have been no time for her to plead with me because as soon as she turned to face me, she'd be dead.

The bailiff yanked me from my chair, dragging me towards the judge. I was confused by this because usually, sentencing took place on the next day.

"Though sentencing usually takes place tomorrow," she began. "I have decided to book you in Konoha State Penitentiary for ten-to-thirty years with parole. Next case."

Before I could even blink, I was being dragged out of the courtroom. The bailiff drug me into my holding cell, where I had been staying during the duration of the trial.

"You'll be staying here for just tonight. You'll be transported tomorrow morning. Enjoy your 'freedom' while you can," the bailiff said, his voice low and gruff. I just blinked, and placed myself on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed. My head rested on the pillow as I tried to sort out my feelings.

I was feeling upset, angry, relieved and confused all at the same time. My head was beginning to hurt, so I just turned over on the bed and tried to focus on something else. But I couldn't!

There were so many questions in my head that had yet to be answered. In prison, when did we eat? Was I allowed out of my cell whenever? How long were our showers? Would the psychos be kept away from me?

As tempting as it was to ask the security guard who sat at the desk a couple meters away, I decided against it. He was just a rent-a-cop that watched prisoners until they were transported. How was he supposed to know the answers?

"Let go of me! I can walk myself, damn it!" someone shouted. Their voice carried throughout all the holding cells, gaining everyone's curiosity. Sitting up, I tried to see who the newcomer was. A different bailiff was dragging in a man with pale, sheet white skin, flaming red hair and light eyes. He was kicking his legs at the bailiff, who just grunted and moved away from the blows. "I don't like to be manhandled!"

"Would you shut up?" the bailiff snapped. "You're not gonna last a day in prison acting like that."

The man growled. "I can do whatever I want."

"Yeah, yeah," the bailiff muttered. "I don't get paid enough for this." He moved towards my cell, and waved his free hand at the security guard, signaling for him to come unlock my cell. I was getting a roommate; a crazy, hot-head roommate. Fun. "Uzumaki, move up to the top bunk. He's gonna take the bottom."

I quickly slipped from the bottom, grabbing my pillow and climbing unto the top. The red-head entered the room, cursing angrily at the bailiff before grabbing the top-bunk pillow and tossing it unto his bed. The bailiff shook his head, and walked away. I found myself listening to the man below me complain about how small the bed was, and how he wasn't gonna take this. After a minute, I decided it would be better to ignore him and go back to my thoughts.

The thought of prison reentered my mind, slightly scaring me. I could honestly say I was nervous for many unimportant reasons, though they should be obvious. Prison had always had a bad reputation in Japan, considering the some of the craziest people came from this country, so the thought of me being one of those crazies was heart wrenching. Prison changed people, made them someone they weren't. It made the weakest the strongest and the strongest the weakest.

It was right about then when I decided that in prison, I'd just keep my mouth shut and my eyes down. I would avoid contact with anyone, and just let the years slip by. Perhaps, if I was lucky, it wouldn't be that bad. Maybe no one notice me, and I could avoid getting into fights with people. Maybe I could -

My thoughts were interrupted by a single question:

"What's your name?"

Startled, I jumped slightly and felt my blood run cold. I finally realized after a second that the person asking was just my roommate. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and eyes focused on me. His lips were curled into a sickening smirk, and there was a dark look in his eyes.

"U-Uzumaki, Naruto," I replied, stuttering slightly. I could feel my face warming as he chuckled; he obviously noticed how startled I was.

"Call me Gaara," he said. "What did you do?"

Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. I stared into his eyes, searching for a way to get out of answering this. Could I simply tell him? I mean, was that allowed?

"I murdered my wife..."

My voice was merely a whisper, and I was doubtful that he had heard my answer. He nodded slightly, and then just stared at me for a while. I shifted in my bed, looking down at my hands which were nervously picking at random things on my orange pants.

"Why?"

I looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Why'd you do it?" he repeated. "There's gotta be a reason; you don't seem like the type to just kill whenever you feel like it."

"She...was cheating on me. I-I just got so angry, that I couldn't control myself."

"Uh-huh...well...at least you're sane. A lot of the guys who go around chopping up their wives are nutjobs."

"Um...thank you?"

I wasn't really sure if that was the appropriate answer, but he didn't react in any way that told me I was wrong. He just continued to stare at me.

"What did you do?" I asked softly. At first, he merely looked at me, his smirk widening to a smile that made me uncomfortable. His light eyes showed a happiness in them that was strange, and not normal. Suddenly, I felt like I was staring at my death.

"...I killed...I watched them bleed as I slit their throats...the blood splashed unto my face. It was so warm...," he said, his voice low so no one but me and him could hear. "They begged for me to stop, which made it better. There was seven of them, all of them so young and naive. I took them into my arms, and made them mine. But when they begged me to stop, I had to stop them from screaming...so I slit their throats and finished my job."

You know how people say 'they were so scared they wanted to pee their pants'? Well...this was one of those moments. My body had grown rigid, my heartbeat so fast I was sure my heart would break. My eyes were wide, and I could barely blink. His eyes still stared into mine, showing some amusement in my response, but I just couldn't focus on his gaze anymore.

Maybe it was because I finally realized, 'Hey! You're sharing a cell with a insane man who raped and murdered seven girls for a whole night!' I stiffly nodded my head, and laid my head down on my pillow, laying my body against the wall behind me. I closed my eyes tightly, listening for any sudden movements; I was pleased to find that the only sounds were the sounds of a body laying down on a bed. He was going to go to sleep, but I was still paranoid.

What if his urges came back, and decided that just for tonight, I was his next victim? The thought sent electric currents down my spine, my entire body shivering so much that I thought he would feel it. The thought of prison suddenly didn't seem so horrible as long as they kept me the hell away from this loon. I finally understood the true definition of insane, and I was not it; he was, though.

I laid in my bunk that entire night, pretending to be asleep. After two hours, or so I assume, he was asleep. I allowed myself to relax after that and soon found myself falling into the dark abyss of dreams.

The sound of metal hitting a wall awoke me a couple hours later, and someone entered my cell.

"Naruto, Gaara. Your bus is here."

I found myself leaping from the bed, hoping to avoid seeing him because I honestly could not handle another crazy moment with him. Luckily, Gaara was feeling disobedient and continued to lay in bed as I was handcuffed. The guard led me down a hallway which exited to the back of the courtroom. Two large buses sat there, the first one already loaded with prisoners. I could hear their soft chatter as I found myself to the second bus.

Each seat already held one person, to my dismay, so I had no chance of avoiding communication. I felt like of backing out of the bus until I heard Gaara's protest behind me. I scrambled to the back, and randomly sat down next to someone.

The person shifted away from me, leaning against the window of the bus. I adjusted myself comfortably, hoping Gaara would take a seat near the front with someone farrrrrr away from me.

I yawned, suddenly realizing how tired I still was. Though I did sleep, my sleep was not peaceful. Every time I shut my eyes, haunting pictures of Gaara's victims popped up into my mind. If it wasn't Gaara's victims, it was Sakura sitting there in my mind, her dead face still begging for me to stop chocking her.

Sick, right?

I leaned my head back against my seat, lowering myself to the point where my knees hit the seat ahead of me, and crossed my arms as best as I could across my chest. The bus began to move, and I shut my eyes to try and sleep. I was pretty close to sleep until someone tapped me on my shoulder.

My eyes opened, and really wish I hadn't. Above me, peering down at me with his eyes, was Gaara. The familiar sick feeling entered my stomach, and I suddenly wanted to jump out of the bus.

"Hey. You fell asleep on me yesterday," he said. He sounded happy today, which kinda scared me.

"Yeah...sorry 'bout that," I apologized, feigning compassion. "I was tired. The trial kinda killed me."

He nodded. "Cool, cool...did you sleep well?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"Felt sick to my stomach," I lied quickly. "Hey Gaara, I don't mean to sound rude, but if you don't mind I wanna go back to sle-"

"I had dreams about them," he interrupted, smiling creepily once more. 'Fuck.' "Each girl was crying, trying to cover themselves from me. But I got what wanted each time...haha..."

"Could you not be a psychopath right now?" the person beside me snapped. "I honestly don't want to here how fucking crazy you are. Turn the fuck around, and shut up."

Gaara seemed amused suddenly. "Aw...someone scared of the big mean Gaara?"

The guy growled, and I shivered a little.

"No," he retorted. "I could never be scared of you. But this guy obviously is. So sit down, and shut the fuck up, okay?"

The air around us was on fire; I could almost feel the testosterone radiating off of both of them as they tried to stare down each other. With a curse, Gaara reluctantly turned around. The guy beside me grumbled something, and turned to look out of the window. I was feeling tired anymore, so I decided to thank the guy for doing that.

"Hey," I stared. "I just wanna say thanks-"

"And you," he interjected. "You need to grow a fucking backbone. You're going to prison, you realize that? There are people worse than him there, so you better learn not to take shit like that. They'll eat you alive."

A warm heat spread through my body, and anger consumed me like with Sakura, but rather than say something, I just turned back around. I heard him sigh, and he tapped my shoulder.

"Come to eat me alive?" I asked cockily. He smirked at this.

"I wanted to say sorry. I'm just...mad."

"..It's whatever. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah. What's your name?"

"Uchiha, Sasuke. Yours?"

"Uzumaki, Naruto."

He just nodded, and went back to looking out the window. My eyes looked over his body, and I couldn't help but blush. Uchiha Sasuke was a very attractive man. He was at least twenty and had very pale skin. His eyes were dark, almost as dark as his raven-colored hair. He had an athletes body, but was very skinny; I could see almost all of his bones through his skin. But I was mostly fascinated with his eyes; they told a story to me. They showed me happiness, pain and desperation; they showed my emptiness, something I had never felt before.

Before he could notice me staring, I turned away and closed my eyes again. This time, I allowed myself to fall into a trance-like state. I was drifting on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness, which is a peaceful place. It was like dreaming without being asleep.

Someone tapped me, again, waking me up from this state. I looked around quickly, confused about my whereabouts. Sasuke was standing up, pointing out the window. A massive building with a large surface area sat on top of a hill, bordered by tall metal gates that seemed to stretch around the entire area.

"That's the prison," he whispered.

"Oh..."

Butterflies fluttered through my stomach, and I tried to ignore that. I closed my eyes again, counted to ten and reopened my eyes. I was ready for this; I could handle ten years in prison...I could...

Couldn't I?

- Whoa, I actually am pleased with this chapter. This story was inspired by a poem that a classmate of mine wrote. Please, please. Review?