tldr; just check the last paragraph lol
Six months. It had been six months since he'd lost her, since his father had stepped into their too-empty house and struggled to explain to his two month-old son what his mother had done. Of course, Junior hadn't understood what the man was telling him at the time; only that his mom, his caretaker, was gone. It wasn't up until recently that he'd truly known that her walking into the human traffic wasn't just an "accident". After his mother's death, Junior's life took a turn for the worse. His father, previously distant but helpful when he could be, grew cold. He would leave the boy alone for days; he'd started drinking, taking out his anger and grief on the defenseless child his wife had left behind. Junior loved his dad - however terrible the man was to him, he would always be his son. The young brown tabby found himself constantly reminding himself of the kind man he'd used to know, clinging onto the idea that maybe, someday, he'd go back to being that father. A bit quiet, not around as often as the other children in town's fathers, but still caring, still doing his best to give his boy the best life he could.
Junior had gotten out of the house whenever he could, out of the clutches of his constantly on-edge father, but even still, he wasn't safe. There would always be bullies, he realized, even in the safest of places. On his worst days, he found himself beginning to understand why his mother had done what she had. A couple months after her death, however, he realized he'd have to adjust if he really wanted to make it. He'd quit trying to put up with the bigger boys who liked to shove him into the mud, the kids who took joy in beating him to a bloody pulp behind the local diner, the wrath of his dad when he returned home late or tracked dirt into their house.
Junior could vividly recall bumping into two older boys on one of his daily walks outside his home - he could still see their sneers as they loomed over him, a venomous, "I thought we'd taught you about hanging around here, Rennie," escaping one's lips as the other snickered, "How's things with your dad?" It was no mystery what went on in the Rennie household, the shiners, the claw marks, the bloody noses and mouths he had often walked out of his home with. [color=#5B81AE]"Fine," the young tom had snapped, his tail curling around his back leg. He'd known he was going to run into them, that he was going to stand up for himself, but it wasn't like he could just use his brute strength, or anything, not against them. However, when one stepped toward him, probably readying himself to smash the other boy's head against the brick wall, he'd allowed a shaft of light from the setting sun to shine into the alley, reflecting off a piece of someone's broken mirror, or something, that they'd thrown out. Junior had managed to snatch it up before the brute reached him, holding it up to the other's throat. "One more step - either of you - and I'll slit your fucking throat." He wasn't really going to, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that guys like these were idiots. That'd been enough to scare them away, at least for that day, and after that, his public beatings had turned into fights.
For months, it went on like this, the only person spared of his behavior being, shockingly, his own father. However, just a few weeks back, he'd decided he'd had enough of it. Very few in town dared to harass him anymore, not with all the bruised and bloodied kids he'd sent home after a scuffle, or the muscle and height and, most importantly, the experience he'd gained these last couple of months. The beatings at home happened far less often due to his own growth, for sure, but that didn't mean he was anymore respected, and, truth be told, Junior was getting tired of it. He was basically a man at this point, with responsibilities and a reputation, but his dad was still the same old drunk, who the town somehow trusted and respected. Junior had had to leave while his father was out, of course - who knew what he'd do if Junior simply announced that he was out of there -, but it wasn't that hard to find an opening. Without a word, not even a note, Junior had slipped out of the home, leaving behind all of his belongings. He didn't need any reminders of that godforsaken town, and maybe his father would think he'd been killed or kidnapped, or something, if he didn't take anything with him. Wouldn't look for him.
Junior had had no destination in mind when he set off, knowing only that he wanted to get as far as possible from his old home. And, apparently, he had, because now he found himself at what had to be the border of some group's. He'd never stayed in one of these, but he'd passed through a couple and they were all pretty similar, but a bit too close to his old home for his liking; he just hoped this wasn't one of those crazy, cannibalistic ones, or something. "Hey-" the striped feline called, taking a quick seat as his tail curled around his paws. He'd been walking for, what, two weeks? Three? He'd distanced himself enough from that place. For now, at least. "My name's Junior. I've been looking for a place to stay."
"speech"
★★★
//tw for mentions of abuse & suicide but !!!!!! bitchim heretldr; just check the last paragraph lol
Six months. It had been six months since he'd lost her, since his father had stepped into their too-empty house and struggled to explain to his two month-old son what his mother had done. Of course, Junior hadn't understood what the man was telling him at the time; only that his mom, his caretaker, was gone. It wasn't up until recently that he'd truly known that her walking into the human traffic wasn't just an "accident". After his mother's death, Junior's life took a turn for the worse. His father, previously distant but helpful when he could be, grew cold. He would leave the boy alone for days; he'd started drinking, taking out his anger and grief on the defenseless child his wife had left behind. Junior loved his dad - however terrible the man was to him, he would always be his son. The young brown tabby found himself constantly reminding himself of the kind man he'd used to know, clinging onto the idea that maybe, someday, he'd go back to being that father. A bit quiet, not around as often as the other children in town's fathers, but still caring, still doing his best to give his boy the best life he could.
Junior had gotten out of the house whenever he could, out of the clutches of his constantly on-edge father, but even still, he wasn't safe. There would always be bullies, he realized, even in the safest of places. On his worst days, he found himself beginning to understand why his mother had done what she had. A couple months after her death, however, he realized he'd have to adjust if he really wanted to make it. He'd quit trying to put up with the bigger boys who liked to shove him into the mud, the kids who took joy in beating him to a bloody pulp behind the local diner, the wrath of his dad when he returned home late or tracked dirt into their house.
Junior could vividly recall bumping into two older boys on one of his daily walks outside his home - he could still see their sneers as they loomed over him, a venomous, "I thought we'd taught you about hanging around here, Rennie," escaping one's lips as the other snickered, "How's things with your dad?" It was no mystery what went on in the Rennie household, the shiners, the claw marks, the bloody noses and mouths he had often walked out of his home with. [color=#5B81AE]"Fine," the young tom had snapped, his tail curling around his back leg. He'd known he was going to run into them, that he was going to stand up for himself, but it wasn't like he could just use his brute strength, or anything, not against them. However, when one stepped toward him, probably readying himself to smash the other boy's head against the brick wall, he'd allowed a shaft of light from the setting sun to shine into the alley, reflecting off a piece of someone's broken mirror, or something, that they'd thrown out. Junior had managed to snatch it up before the brute reached him, holding it up to the other's throat. "One more step - either of you - and I'll slit your fucking throat." He wasn't really going to, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that guys like these were idiots. That'd been enough to scare them away, at least for that day, and after that, his public beatings had turned into fights.
For months, it went on like this, the only person spared of his behavior being, shockingly, his own father. However, just a few weeks back, he'd decided he'd had enough of it. Very few in town dared to harass him anymore, not with all the bruised and bloodied kids he'd sent home after a scuffle, or the muscle and height and, most importantly, the experience he'd gained these last couple of months. The beatings at home happened far less often due to his own growth, for sure, but that didn't mean he was anymore respected, and, truth be told, Junior was getting tired of it. He was basically a man at this point, with responsibilities and a reputation, but his dad was still the same old drunk, who the town somehow trusted and respected. Junior had had to leave while his father was out, of course - who knew what he'd do if Junior simply announced that he was out of there -, but it wasn't that hard to find an opening. Without a word, not even a note, Junior had slipped out of the home, leaving behind all of his belongings. He didn't need any reminders of that godforsaken town, and maybe his father would think he'd been killed or kidnapped, or something, if he didn't take anything with him. Wouldn't look for him.
Junior had had no destination in mind when he set off, knowing only that he wanted to get as far as possible from his old home. And, apparently, he had, because now he found himself at what had to be the border of some group's. He'd never stayed in one of these, but he'd passed through a couple and they were all pretty similar, but a bit too close to his old home for his liking; he just hoped this wasn't one of those crazy, cannibalistic ones, or something. "Hey-" the striped feline called, taking a quick seat as his tail curled around his paws. He'd been walking for, what, two weeks? Three? He'd distanced himself enough from that place. For now, at least. "My name's Junior. I've been looking for a place to stay."
"speech"
![[Image: tiny_pixel_goldie.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/453243520472449024/454027563728109598/tiny_pixel_goldie.png){kind=tracking}
