An: this is just a sad little one shot on how I think Naruto feels as a kid on his birthday.

Warnings: angsty, has mentions of child abuse.

I don't own Naruto.

Naruto stared at the other children sadly, his wide innocent blue eyes filled with loneliness, wishing that he could play with the other children, like the pink haired girl, or the shy purple haired one, but knowing that if he even tried their parents would scream at him and tell him to get away, that they'd call him demon and monster.

He hated it, he didn't understand, he was only six, so why did they hate him so much, why did they hurt him every year on his birthday, why did they hit him and say that he killed their loved ones, he hadn't ever hurt anyone. He sighed, looking up and frowning when he saw that the sun was going down, he stood up, wincing as a pain shot up his left leg, from where one of the villagers had 'accidentally' tripped him.

He frowned, limping back to the apartment, wincing every step and biting his lip nervously as villagers glared and smirked cruelly.

He couldn't help but hope that they'd not be too harsh tonight, it was his birthday, and as such the villagers were always more brutal, and he always ended up in hospital, not that they actually did that much to hep him.

He arrived back at his apartment unscathed, and jumped strait into the bed, grabbing the thin sheet that was all that he'd been able to afford, as he was always over charged.

Settling into the cold lumpy mattress he couldn't help but pray that they wouldn't come tonight.