Chapter Text
Izuku was over this. No, seriously like, he was over the edge of the counter he used to be sitting on. Wait, why was he on the counter again? Oh well, there’s other things that should be taking up his thoughts, like the fact that he really needs to get the fuck away, now.
Mom was over at the kitchen table, sitting in her chair that if Izuku ever dared to sit in instead of on the floor, he’d be getting a plate thrown at him. Of course, now he realizes that’s exactly what he tried to do, so when he moved over to sit on the counter, he got a plate and various kinds of utensils thrown at him.
“Izuku if you don’t get your stupid ass over here right the fucking now your going in the closet again!” Mom said as she started standing up.
“P-please, ill remember, i-i I promise.” Great, he's crying, as usual. Crying always makes it worse. He can't do this right now though.
Izuku tried to stand up, but fell, and ended up scampering away, but that's when mom decided to show up. She backed him into the corner of the room, looming over him, her shadow overcasting his shaking body.
“I’m sick and tired of you being a leech in my side! Get up you lazy shit! Up! UP!” Mom was screaming now, as she kicked Izuku in his side.
once
Twice
THREE
FOUR!
“PLEASE! No more, n-no more! OW! S-stop!” Izuku begged, pleaded, he couldn't take it anymore. His crying picked up, it hurt so fucking bad. She did stop, of course only after 3 more kicks. “Get out of my house! I can’t stand you! I hope you get kidnapped or something! Then you can be someone else's problem! UGH!” She threw her hands up as she turned back to the table. Her food now all over the kitchen. “And if this isn't cleaned up before you’re out that door, you're not walking back through it!” she finished with a big accentuated turn, and walked back into her room, slamming the door shut.
Izuku took a breath, a big, shaky breath. Holy shit that hurts.
oh.
She bruised his ribs, not surprised, that hurt like hell. Now of course though he’s going to have to live through hell trying to walk around today.
He got up and started to clean up the strewn about food, being extra careful not to make too much noise. He picked up the shards of plate and threw them out, along with other garbage that mom just throws around the house when she feels like it. As Izuku was grabbing one of the last pieces of the shredded plate, it cut his pointer finger. Naturally this wasn't even surprising, 'cause everything was out for him today apparently.
Izuku made his way to the bathroom as crimson liquid dripped down his hand, seeping into a puddle in his palm. He made it to the sink and watched as the red mixed with the clear water and finished draining down into the washbasin.
He bandage up his stupid chest that was still burning , and the cut, and wow was that deeper than it looks. Izuku really hoped it didn't need stitches though, ‘cause it was gonna be a cold day in hell when Izuku would ask his mom if she could willingly take him to the doctor to get an injury checked out. She barely took him for standard checkups alone. If he were to ask to go get them checked out, one thing would lead to another and they could put two and two together, it was pretty obvious that Izuku was being abused. If she got cps called on her, she would have to go to jail. Where would Izuku end up, he's heard terrible horror-like stories about foster homes and shelters. Although, anything could be better than his life right now.
Izuku waltzed his way out of the bathroom as he made his way to his room. His breath was still shaky, and his chest still heaved with each intake of air, but he could manage, what else could he do.
His room was nothing special, small, barely enough room for his sleeping bag alone, a small pile of clothes next to it. Naturally they were folded, he isn't a slob, what do you take him for? Izuku knelt down to his school bag, its hideous puke-yellow color glaring up at him. It was the only thing his mom would get him, it was on sale after all, and never in her dumb little lifetime would mom ever buy him something that could help him blend in. She even suggested to the fucking doctor about getting him the quirkless registered red shoes. Anything that would make him stick out like a sore thumb he supposes.
Making his way out his bedroom door, past the kitchen with a quick glance to make sure everything was somewhat clean, and to the front of the house Izuku went. Slipping on and tying the horrid stop-sign shaded sneakers Izuku sighed one last shaky breath. If there was any such thing as a god, please be listening right now, Please let Kachan be absent today, please! and with one silent prayer, Izuku was on his wobbly way to hell, also known as Aldera middle school.