A/N: Meh. This is a byproduct of my stress… damn English papers… . Anyways, this was sort of hashed out in ten minutes last night. Warnings for depression, cutting, anorexia, and general messed up-ness. Sasuke doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. I’m just torturing him for a while.

Beautiful

Sasuke smiled.

No one saw Sasuke smile. He doubted anyone would. Not yet. Not until the time was perfect.

His mother always told him he had a beautiful smile. And Sasuke would not show this smile to anyone… not until he was beautiful.

This smile for his reflection crept slowly brought on by the slow trailing of cold fingertips upon his naked body. These fingertips could not be sated in their wanderlust as they played along protruding ribs and dipped into the hollow of his stomach. They graced across broken glass hips and corpse-like skin. They twisted around eachother in their incestuous dance of brittle fingers and jagged wrists.

Sasuke smiled when he felt his body.

And he smiled at what his eyes saw in the looking glass. He smiled at his dark, sunken eyes; at the shadows the candlelight and darkness threw about his frame.

He smiled at the scars, the beautifully marring scars…. Scars that danced upon his chest and heart and legs and slept upon his wrists. He remembered when each and every one was placed. There was one for everyone and a good deal more besides. Beautiful, marring scars crisscrossed together like gossamer strings to break him… break him enough to be put back together.

He smiled at his scars and dull black hair and dull black eyes and emaciated, corpse-like body.

He smiled.

I’m almost there Mother. I’m almost beautiful.

Fin

A/N: Poor Sasu. I’m so mean. XD Anyways… Good? Bad? Fish? Let me know and leave a review, please.