A Life Foretold

Chapter 5: A Homeward Bound Dove

  4594 words.

   Change.

   One of the most controversial fuels to disagreement known to man--it's the iciest slippery slope and the adhesive in sticky situations. Moderation is key— like summer leaves tinting orange and leisurely preparing for winter. Or, when faced with a dire circumstance that you feel the absolute need to get out of, to free yourself from no matter the sacrifice: when the yearned change is welcome. But like two sides of a magnet, the negative side will always scream for attention because it's always there. Hiding it meant suppression, and that never works. Ever.

   Gon got slapped in the face with the negative portion of change. The overwhelming impact of hardships compiled until it shattered the most positive person on earth because that person is human, and I would almost forget that 'minor' detail when it came to Gon. To me, he just seemed like everything right in the world, ethereal. And with him, it was quite easy to forget how difficult the process of living in actuality is.

   As prior mentioned, the collapse of sanity came in stages. Stage one began when Father began drinking, according to Mom. I disagreed.

   Stage One began with Gon's self-harm.

   'I want to kill myself.'

   All hope in me ripped from my heart and resisted nothing as it was pounded into the ground by an ice-cold sentence. And it was that one sentence that sent me into a lifetime of panic. Frantic, but I knew I couldn't let that show in my voice; anger, but that was selfish; sadness, but that would only make Gon feel guilty--the last emotion he needed to be concurrently feeling. So it dawned on me that I am completely helpless-- as useless as a used plastic bag clinging onto a neighboring tree branch and stuck only to serve as a detriment to all surrounding nature. Gon Freecss: the individual I owed everything to for flashing the pain away with his cheerful smile. And me: futile to him when it mattered.

   My response was silence.

   "Killua?"

   "Y-yeah." I cursed at myself for how small my voice sounded.

   Resonating through the line, was a broken cry, followed by sobs that anyone would only consider true despair. "I mean nothing to my family." an uptick, "nothing... to anyone."

   "Gon-"

   "And I try and try and try not to care. Then, BOOM: my father is back in my life followed by my two siblings I had no idea about. Gaito, the kid from camp?" Before I could respond, he interrupted again, his voice speeding up in a panicked accelerando, "That's my twin brother. And my mom ran away from everything only to be replaced by my aunt who sacrifices life itself for religion. The only family I have would abandon me if he found out who I honestly am, and" He cut himself off with echoes of tears, "what if it takes years for me to see the person I love most again?"

   My heart stopped when I realized he was speaking of me; that I was the person he loved most. Every ounce of feeling in me both sparked to life and crumbled in anguish. And I now understood that I wasn't the only one who feared time, which gave his former note that much more meaning.

   I listened to choking hiccups and deep breaths to regain control, and that's all I did: listened, hoping that he would feel better after ranting, and then I could tell him that there was still hope, maybe speak of the northern lights he had always wanted to gaze upon, possibly play Chopin on the piano, or just anything--some little thing that was worth seeing, worth living.

   I found my voice, "I have my entire life planned out, and you better believe you're in it." I added with a smirk, "We should probably start saving to Alaska now before pollution covers the sky."