Hinata, 16

There are mornings the sun goes orange and the skies get colored by a tint of pink. Skies like that mean a good omen. I'm hoping that when you'd look up you'd see a brighter future of yourself. There was always dark in you, based on rumors, and when I saw it for myself, there really was something. Growing beyond your obsidian eyes. I saw it once with my own eyes. You were willing to kill me, said you wanted something from me. One fateful night a gun was pointed at my face. I pictured a bullet firing, sweat pouring down from my forehead. Bang! I was (supposed to be) dead.