Chapter Two: Home

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Kion stepped off the bus amid insults and flying spitballs. Yes, the maturity level of his grade was amazingly above average. In case you didn't catch it, that was something called sarcasm. Kion's not sure if you can actually understand English what with your third grade reading level that you finally reached at age eighteen, but he'll try to be patient with any problems you have trying to speak to a normal animal. 

He slowly walked up his front walk as the bus drove away, the kids laughing and flipping off Kion. 

He opened the door and looked inside. "Hey, mom, dad, I'm home!" His voice echoed through the halls. 

"Hello?" He walked around. No one seemed to be home. That was strange. I mean, his dad usually wasn't here for some reason or another, but his mom usually was. But apparently not today. 

He walked into the kitchen and saw a note taped to the door of the grey stainless steel fridge. He yanked it off. 

DEAR KID, IF YOU GET THIS YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE LEAVING TOWN FOR THE WEEKEND. IF YOU BREAK ANYTHING, I WILL CALL THE COPS AFTER I BEAT THE FUCKING SHIT OUTTA YOU AND SAY THAT YOU TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF. AFTER ALL, THAT'S BELIEVABLE FOR A STUPID FAG LIKE YOU. - SIMBA 

Kion's eyes watered at the note. He tried to shake it off. After all, at least his mom didn't call him a bitch when he walked in and his dad didn't beat him when he got home, so this was an okay change. But still, they were supposed to be his parents. They were supposed to love him. But he wasn't sure if they did. 

Kion walked to his room. The walls were plastered with pictures of famous anarchists and gay leaders. The Pride flag hung from the inside of his door, where his parents couldn't see it on a daily basis. After all, they didn't necessarily need more remainders that their son was gay and give them any more excuse to beat him. He fell to his bed and looked sadly around.

Hey, Worthless. I'm back, said a low voice in his head. "N-no please," Kion whimpered out loud. Yes. You know how to make this all go away, don't you? Kion groaned and slowly nodded. He reached under his bed for the pocketknife his dad had got him and looked at it. He brought it slowly up to his wrist and placed the blade there. 

Good boy, the voice purred. Now do it. Kion whimpered and slowly pressed the blade into his flesh and slid it across his wrist. He cried at the pain, but at least something in his life was still the same: the feeling of pain and hurt. Boy how he was used to those emotions. 

He hadn't always been like this way. He used to be a good kid, even if others picked on him and mocked him for his gayness. That was before Rani broke up with him. Before his life became a fucking hellhole that everyone loved to shit and piss on. 

Back when he actually loved Rani, and thought she felt the same way. 

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