More Than Just A Plaything

Killua stood on the edge of the building, wind whipping around him. He couldn't take it anymore, he was done. Done being abused, done being used, done being reminded of how useless he was for anything but being a plaything. He stepped onto the edge, looking down. He shed not a single tear, his eyes had all dried up from the years of them constantly being emptied with rivers of tears. Goodbye... He was about to step off, when his phone rang. Killua blinked, then numbly slid it out. He put it to his ear, and accepted the call.