Dancing with death (klance) Blind au

Start of this story

*Warning: swearing, death, abuse, abandonment*
When someone is thinking I write with 'x', and when someone is talking I write with "x".

Keith's POV
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People has always told me I was talented, gifted, smart and a little sunshine.
I believed.
Of course I did.
I was only 5 years old.

I lived with my parents in Florida, we moved there from Texas when I was hardly 2 years old. Father was, if someone had asked from me, a pure Texan with a clear Texan accent. He was tall and muscular, with slightly tanned skin, darker shade of brown short hair covered his head, light brown eyes that had slight shade of gold, He was a firefighter. Mother was Korean, with me she didn't speak Korean tho, because she thought that English should be my original language. Mom was average height, she was skinny, her skin was pale with hints of times spend underneath the sun. Her hair was black with different shades of purple. Her eyes were light grey with hints of black, blue and purple.

I myself took after my mother, I'm short, slightly under average female height with feminine body, I had tiny hints of muscularity, my waist slim. My skin pure pale porcelain. My hair raven black, with very slight hints of purple in specific light. My hair reached a tiny pit beneath my shoulders. My eyes were light greyish black and purple.

In the few happy years I managed to become good friends with a girl my age, Katie, or Pidge as she wanted to be called, and with her older brother, Matt. They had a clear age difference, but still looked almost identical. Pidge had long light reddish brown hair and Matt had short lighter color hair than Pidge. Their eyes were honey brownish color. Pidge was short, even for 3 year old, and Matt's height was average.

Pidge and I got along very well even tho we were different, she was a nerd and I was just smart, we were different in many ways, but one thing made us best friends.
Dancing.
The love for the same thing. It was our thing, my freedom, her break. We didn't know the world that older people knew, so we enjoyed what we knew was for us.

I was a shy kid and Pidge and Matt were my only friends from age of 3 to age of 7. When I was 5 everything started to change for worse.

Mom was sick most of the time and father was never home, eventually became an alcoholic. I tried to make my mom feel better by dancing for her my many made up dances, mom did become happier around me, but she was still sick.

One time father came home late at night, dead drunk and started to break things. I of course woke up to the sound and went to look what was going on.

Father was in the living room with a baseball bat in hand. I went to my father in shock. "Papa, what are you doing?" I asked while I stepped on the broken glass pieces. My feet hurt, but I was naive and my father was acting weird and he was scaring me.

Mom came to the living room even tho she was sick and weak, just as she entered the room my father had slammed me against the wall and fell to the floor. Mom didn't get the chance to come to me when father was already going towards her. He escorted mom back to bed and after a little while returned to me.

For 2 and half years my father abused me to near death, never killing me. For 2 years my mom could handle the pain and suffering that was echoing in our house.

When I was 7, father went out to drink. Mom was very sick. It was night time I was in my room drawing, as I usually did in the evenings. It was quiet, too quiet. I finished my drawing and started to walk towards my parents room. I opened the door carefully to not wake my mom up. The light shined through the door reaching to my parents bed where mom was sleeping. I stepped carefully towards the bed my eyes landed on the bedside table. On the table, there were bottles, weird looking pills and some needles I've seen the doctors use.