Disclaimer: -looks left- okay . . . – looks right- darn it . . . –sighs- OKAY! Fine! Here you go, and you know what!? I didn’t steal it! It was just lying there on the ground and I picked it up! I was about to return it, you know! –hands over the contract about owning Naruto to Masashi Kishimoto-

The Footsteps
Written by MrsHellman October 4th 2009
Beta’d by Carrei2sky

.:Short Story:.
Y o u N e v e r K n o w

He lay still as he tried to force away the fear that was crawling its way into his mind. This was something he’d become used to these past years, but still; the fear would only become worse with every time it happened. He would always end up hurt in the end anyway, and the mere thought of that pain was like food for the fear.

He hated fear.

He hated to be scared.

He remembered back when it hadn’t been like this, when everything had been normal, and everyone had been happy. There was no fear, no anger, and no hatred . . . why couldn’t it have remained that way? Why? The trigger had been pulled. That’s why it was like this and there was no way it was to change in a near future. It had been going on for years –horrible years – and the more he tried to think optimistically, the worse it became, so he gave up.

He could only see pain and there was not a single thing or person who could change that fact.

He felt the Goosebumps make its way across his skin, like a train moving forward to its destination; and it was going way too fast for the teens liking. A crash was heard from the room beneath his bedroom and the boy winced at the sound. His eyes were wide in shock and a frown appeared on his face. What was that? What had been dropped – thrown?

All the bedrooms were located on the upper floors, and there usually was no one downstairs this late at night. It was already six in morning, and they didn’t get up until seven. They had to get dressed, eat and then go to the academy, which started at half past eight.

He sighed.

He hated this. He utterly hated it. He hated dreams as well . . . in the dreams – the nightmares – there was always someone who wanted to hurt him, and that’s what he always feared so much. They played pranks on him, and usually they would throw ice-cold water on him, or take his clothes so that people he didn’t even know, would get mad at him for losing them; simple things in other words. But things had changed recently.

It wasn’t pranks anymore; it was even abuse in some cases, and other times the dreams would scare him so much he’d be jumpy all day long. It was horrible, and that’s why he was so scared. They were going to hurt him tonight, he knew it. It was going to end badly.

He was scared.

Help him.

Another crash was heard, and he noticed footsteps could be heard as well. Someone was walking around down there, and it was as if they were looking for something. Was it chairs that were knocked over, drawers were ripped open, things being thrown across the rooms, and heavy breathing being heard?

Something was happening down there and the teen started to wonder what was actually going on. This wasn’t like the other times when he’d had a bad dream, this was completely different; this wasn’t a prank, there was seriousness in this.

He winced once again as he heard a drawer being ripped open. The sound when the things it had contained scattered all over the floor, made him think about porcelain being dropped. Maybe it had actually been porcelain, but there was a whistling sound as well, like when you sharpen knives—

The boy’s eyes widened as the last thought made its way through his head. Knives. This wasn’t good. Maybe there was a murder downstairs or what if someone had finally got enough of him and wanted to hurt him real badly, maybe even kill him. He shuddered at the thought and the grip he had on the blanket tightened visibly. His knuckles had already long since turned white, and now they were even bruising themselves, but he didn’t care.

The only thing he cared about for the moment, was the person who was obviously looking for something – someone.

A third crash was heard and he sat up in the bed with a jolt. His eyes were wide, and his body was shaking so much that a leaf had no chance to beat him. His muscles were tense and it hurt him, but the mental pain was worse.

This was a nightmare; it had to be.

His pulled his legs closer to his body, and wrapped his arms around them. With the bed rest against his back he felt a little more protected and secure. He laid his head against his knees and made sure that the blanket was wrapped securely around him. Usually, he had no idea what was going on in his dreams, and he would always feel fear about going to bed, and to be alone in a room, but this time it was so different, and the fear was a new kind. It was probably this new fear that was riling him up. Yes, he was angry as well as scared. He was angry with himself because he was so easily affected by these things.

His head snapped around so fast that anyone nearby would have sworn they heard a snapping sound. The scared eyes were wide and focused on a spot at the floor.

The person downstairs was moving.

Fast.

Towards the stairs.

The boy didn’t know what to do, his eyes moved back and forth across the room as if looking for something to protect himself with, but there was nothing there.

No hard objects, no clothes, nothing.

He couldn’t see much in the dark room thanks to it being autumn outside, and it made him feel so blind, literally as well as metaphorically. He sharpened his other scenes, as he tried to figure out where the person was, but there was no sound.

The boy frowned as he realised this. Where had the person gone? Had the person stopped, or maybe got out of the house? He could only hope for the best. He listened more carefully as he slowly turned his head towards the window and then to the door. He still couldn’t hear a thing, and it made him anxious.

Where was the person?

He could only hear his own heartbeat as well as his heavy breathing. If there was anything that could be heard in this house it was probably these two things; it even surprised the boy himself that no one had heard his noise as well as the racket from downstairs.

After a few more minutes of nothing, he lay down on the bed again.

Maybe he had imagined it.

He had been imagining things since the dreams had become worse, so it was probably a hallucination; just like always. It was a dream. Something his mind had created on its own. There was nothing in the kitchen; there was nothing to be afraid of, because it didn’t exist. He was probably schizophrenic from all those years of fear and because of him being tense twenty-four-seven.

He let an overwrought sigh escape his lips, as he tried to relax, but it was easier said than done. He tried to force his body into a relaxed position, but it was quite impossible after the things he’d heard – the things he’d imagined. He hit the pillow he had laid his head on with such force his fist hurt.

Why did he always have to imagine things like this? It was tiring, and his nerves probably enjoyed this as much as a mirror would enjoy being broken into millions of pieces.

He was hyperventilating.

He closed his eyes as he tried to calm his breathing down, it was beginning to hurt his lungs, and he had taijutsu training tomorrow at the academy, so it would be a bad thing if he had hurt his lungs and nerves so much he couldn’t compete.

Again.

He actually liked taijutsu, but he was always so exhausted thanks to all the dreams and “bullying” he went through during the nights. There was none of it during the days, only the nights, when the caretakers were asleep.

He missed his mom and dad . . .

The footsteps were back. His eyes shot open faster than a sound wave could hit a wall. He had been imagining it, hadn’t he? There was nothing there, there was no one there.

Right?

Right . . . ?

“Oh no . . .” he said quietly to himself as he heard that there was actually something very much alive walking the corridor outside his room.

He pulled his legs towards his stomach in a protective manner, and lay in a disfigured foetus position. He was shaking again. This was not good, not for his health, his nerves; this was simply so not good. He took a shaky breath as he felt his heartbeat go faster and faster in his ribcage. It was clawing at his ribs, and it wanted to get out of his body, it wanted to get away from the fear just as much as the poor teen wanted.

He grabbed his head between his hands as he tried to will the footsteps away, as he tried imagine himself away from all of this. There was someone near, he could feel it; it was as if a sixth sense had suddenly been activated. He just knew that there was someone near, and that this someone was getting closer for each step being taken.

Was this person, this someone, after him?

Why him, out of everyone in this house?

Was it simply because he was so scared that this person was actually after him?

It was illogical . . .

The footsteps were more audible by now, and he counted how many steps that had been taken since he’d heard them the first time. It was twenty-four, and he knew that there were thirty-two steps to his room from the staircase. That person could be by his room any minute now.

Twenty five . . .

Twenty six . . .

The person could be by his door any minute now . . .

Twenty seven . . .

The person could be by his door any minute now.

Twenty eight . . .

Twenty nine . . .

The person could be by his door any minute now!

It stopped.

He held his breath as he tried to understand what was going on. He listened carefully and tried his best to hear where the person was. He knew that said person was close to his door, and that if he made even one sound, he was sure that he was going to be heard, and probably beaten or something akin to that.

He swallowed, and then he heard a rattling sound just outside. It was the sound of a chain, he didn’t know if it was one of those chains you used with prisoners or if it was a chain from a bracelet or necklace. It made him think of that beautiful chain his dad usually wore around his neck. He remembered that his dad had lost it that day . . . it was a day that was supposed to be filled with joy, but it had been filled with sadness as well . . . it was his fourteenth birthday, and he and his parents were going to his grandparents to celebrate, but the yearly Kyūbi festival had stopped it.

He hated his birthday.

His dad was a respected man, but the fact that his son was something as horrible as the Kyūbi made the villagers hate him – despise him.

They had beaten him when his parents didn’t look, and when they finally noticed, his dad went berserk. He’d threatened the men who had done it, and yelled at them for hurting his son. It hadn’t helped; the men had attacked his dad as well, and tried to slice his throat with a kunai.

They didn’t succeed, but his dad’s necklace broke.

It had happened exactly one year ago, from today. Today was his fifteenth birthday, and he was scared that something was going to happen again. Maybe that someone downstairs didn’t want to see him turn one year older. Was it like that? No . . . it was a nightmare. It was a nightmare . . .

He swallowed one more time, and then he heard another rattling sound. It was closer this time and he covered himself with the blanket in a desperate attempt to make himself invisible. The person was here, and that person was going to hurt him. He knew it. The next thing that happened was something he didn’t expect, it was something he’d never ever expected to happen, out of all the things that could have come to pass, and this was it?

He fainted.

He woke up like any other the day the morning after and at first he had no idea what had happened, but then the memories came back, and once again he felt his heartbeat exhilarate. What had happened after he blacked out? Why did he black out? He probably scared himself so much that his nerves finally decided to shut down the body they inhabited.

He slowly sat up and winced as he could feel his sore muscles scream in protest. He’d been so tense and edgy last night that his muscles never got the chance to relax. Not a good idea . . . this is just great, isn’t it?

He got up and dressed himself, before he turned around and walked towards the door. He was just about to open it, but his hand stilled in mid-air. His hand was shaking, and it made him frown.

It. Had been. His imagination.

And nothing more.

He could feel the sweat start to appear on his brow and under his arms. He was a little nervous to open that door, to see what had happened behind it. Would everything be a disaster? Would there be . . . dead bodies?

Mom?

Dad?

He closed his eyes and prepared himself for what was to come. He opened the door slowly and when it was finally open all the way, he dared to let his eyes see the world once again. There was nothing out of the ordinary, everything was the way it used to be, and he could see his siblings playing in one of the rooms with an open door. Had anyone heard what had happened last night?

He frowned as he looked down to the floor.

It was his imagination.

Thank God.

He smiled as he thought about that, and closed the door after himself. As he touched the handle he felt something that wasn’t supposed to be there. The frowned deepened as he turned around and removed his hand from the wooden handle. His eyes widened as he saw what was there on the knob.

It was a chain.

The chain his father wore that time he had saved him from those men.

He screamed.

He saw his parents running up to him.

He blacked out.

Kushina and Minato looked at each other with worried faces.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea to let him watch that horror film simply because he turned fifteen,” Kushina said with a sigh as she held her son close to her, and stoked his head.

“He insisted!” Minato whined, but as he saw the look his wife gave him he quickly closed his mouth. “How could I know that he was going to faint simply because we were supposed to surprise him! I didn’t know he was so scared!”

“This will be a birthday he won’t forget anytime soon, you made sure of that, Minato,” Kushina scolded mildly as she tried to wake her son. Minato just gave her a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his head.

“Well . . . maybe we shouldn’t surprise him like this next year then?”

Kushina simply glared.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

The End

Okay, a birthday fic for out dear Naruto, and I added Minato and Kushina into this whole ordeal as well ;] And you know what made me happiest? My beta, Carrie, told me that I’m getting very good with my wiring, and that there’s hardly anything to correct anymore xD It made me so darn happy‼! –happy dance-

Anyway! Please tell me if there’s something off in this story, or if I should change something because you can’t understand it :D Thank you!

© MrsHellman 2009