Green Is Your Color||KilluaxGon

[6] A Mom Like You

TW/CW!! : Su!c!d@l thoughts , mentions of @buse , sexuality crisis

That night, Killua was sent to his room without food. Or water or soda or juice or even a snack, because his behavior was punishable by withholding valuable nutrition.

In his room, Killua's thoughts went anywhere and everywhere but positive places.

I should kill myself. Probably. Maybe. Probably not.

I should grab my pencil again. Seven months is a stupid amount of time anyways. I'll just wear longer socks.

Killua wanted desperately to think or say he wanted to go home. But...this is home, isn't it? This is his place of residency and the residency of his parents and siblings, so...this is home?

He didn't remember the last time he had a "home." A place where he could run inside after getting scraped up and get a bandaid and kiss on the forehead. A place where punishments were rightfully disciplinary and never borderline child abuse. It pissed him off that he didn't have a real home.

He should probably call the police, he began to think. Borderline child abuse is too much on middle and high schoolers. Borderline child abuse. Borderline child abuse. Borderline criminals don't get prison time, because they aren't criminals. Just in the same way borderline abusers can't possibly be abusers. Borderline child abuse? What even was abuse, really? Killua could only ever tell by the extremes. He'd grown so accustomed to their ways that he's not been able to decipher the differences between less obvious child abuse and plain parenting and discipline.

He sat on his floor, because he wasn't tired and didn't want his bed to be warm when he was ready to sleep. And he thought about everything, from dandelions to mornings to evenings to breathing. And he thought about nothing, from the space after death to reincarnation to being dead dead. He thought about everything in between, from breathing to not and living to not and being present to not. He was his own complex, paradoxical being that couldn't even figure itself out.

His parents weren't abusers, he decided. Definitely not good people, but not abusers. They loved him and cared for him and gave him a place to stay and food to eat. They were his parents, his family, his blood. They weren't...blatantly hitting him. And mental abuse isn't a thing, so he was just dramatic. How stupid of him.

Dressed in school uniform, Killua grabbed his backpack and shoes before looking both ways outside of his room and bolting towards and up the stairs to Alluka's room. He knocked five times in a rhythmic way and his brother opened the door and ushered him in.

He stumbled over every piece of clean and dirty clothing on his carpeted floors before entering his bathroom and picking up the curling iron he'd preheated for him.

Killua and both of his younger brothers cared much about their appearance and hair. Their father's drilled it into their head that using curling or flat irons are things girls would do, so they share their mom's old one.

"Hey, I'm gonna..." Killua trailed, focusing and trying not to burn himself. "I'm gonna be home closer to five. Uh, text me if you need anything, I'm gonna be at the mall for a bit."

"Yeah, okay." Alluka nodded, styling his slightly overgrown hair.

After all three of them were finished getting ready for the day and Killua brought his extra change of clothes and skateboarded to school, as always.

"Hey. Killua." 

Gon caught up with Killua and slowed down to match his speed on his bike. Killua looked up and startled, a comforting feeling sprouting within him. He enjoyed Gon's company more than anyone before; They really are the best of friends.