Nothing's Forever - Killugon

Nosy Neighbors

Killua POV:

I pull on my blue and white jacket, preparing to leave the house.

I grab a pair of binoculars off my dresser and walk out of my bedroom.

"I'm going out," I tell my mother as I walk into the kitchen where she's eating lunch.

"Huh?" she says, "Alright, but you better not be going out to look at those new neighbors moving in down the street. Neighbors are nothing but nosy people who bother and poke into your private business, and I don't want you to have anything to do with them!"

I am in fact, going to look at the new neighbors, but she doesn't need to know that. It's not like I'm going to talk to them or anything, just get stock of who they are.

"I won't,"

Lying to my mom comes easy to me now. I've done it so much that I'm good at it. I'm an excellent liar.

When I was little, and I would lie about sneaking out of the house or something like that, my parents would always find out. And of course, instead of trying to help me, my father would just tell me to get the belt. Now I'll do anything to not have to feel those sharp lashes against my skin, so I've learned how to lie about pretty much anything.

Of course, that belt still stays coiled on my father's nightstand like a poisonous snake, waiting to get me when I make my father angry. Or maybe even if it's not me at all. If he has a bad day at work, if he's mad at mom. Anything will set him off then, and I always take the blame.

I ball my hand into a fist, my fingernails biting into my skin. Someday I'll get out of here. This house where my whole life is planned out for me. Where I'll take over the family company and be a wealthy business tyrant, just like my father.

I shove those thoughts away as I quickly throw together a sandwich, not even bothering to toast the bread. I grab a little bag of chips off the shelf and fill my blue water bottle.

I will get out of here. I will.

But for right now, I'm just going to spy on these new neighbors of ours. They're probably no one good. This neighborhood is full of nosy old people who like to try to get to know me. Like I'm someone they want to know.

Again, these new neighbors are probably no one good.

Honestly, I don't know what someone good would mean. It's probably just more nosy old people, and if it wasn't? Who knows. Adults are arrogant and talk down to you. And kids? I'm no good with younger kids, but what if it was someone my age? I guess it doesn't matter, it's not like they would wanna be my friend, and I don't want to be theirs either.

Whatever, it's probably just more old people.

I climb down the three stone stairs into the garage. It's dimly lit and smells like oil. I carefully sidestep puddles of black oil from my dad's car and unlock my bicycle.

It was truly a day when I got this bicycle for my birthday. Little did my parents know, it was just giving me a little bit more of what I truly want. Freedom. I bet I could get anywhere in the city on this bike, though I mainly just ride around the suburbs. I'm not allowed to go into the main part of town alone, which I think is unfair.

I push the bike out onto the driveway.

It's light blue with a white trim and a black wicker basket that I zip-tied to the front. Once someone told me that only girls have baskets on their bicycles, but I said they were being stupid. Who wants to try and carry stuff while riding a bike? It's not like I couldn't, but why do that when you can just have a basket? You've gotta have some place to put all your shit right?