I will be using he/him pronouns for xem here. Im sorry Juli TW: Implied abuse, abuse, mentions of alcohol

Julius wandered the streets, unhappy and lonely. His father had just gotten a new pack of beer after arguing with his mother, it was kind of a silent signal to him at this point to get lost. The little ginger haired boy had nothing but the white tee and jeans on him. Oh, and ten dollars. He couldn't really buy any food with this. He could at least buy some soap and sponges to clean his next trash can with. He liked to sleep in those rather than the cold hard cement.

He kicked a few rocks, cursing out his family. Well, his father more specifically. His mother was a bit better though, so he cursed her out a tiny bit less. "The nearest shop is on 34th street, and the trash cans should be empty by now." He muttered to himself. Julius gave himself a slight nod, confirming that to himself. The little avian walked silently.

The sky only made him feel more moody honestly, a dull grey. So did the flickering of the gas station's lights. He pushed the door open. Waving to the man at the register. Greg, Greg the gas station worker. "What'll it be, Collins?" He smiled at the ginger. "Oh, one moment sir." He walked over and grabbed the things he wanted. Along with a little candy bar. "Just these, Mr. Greg." He placed them on the counter and handed him the ten dollars. "You seem to be a dollar short, but don't worry about it, champ" "Oh thanks sir, you're a swell guy." "Are you gonna tell me what you're cleaning yet?" "No sir, sorry! Bye!"

He took his stuff and walked out to the nearest metal bin he could find. Immediately, the little avian started cleaning it. Keeping watch for anyone suspicious. He hummed a little tune to himself until he finally finished. Not minding the fact it was raining too much. Julius hopped into it, closed the lid, and let himself take a nap.

Julius was woken up by a loud crash. He didn't move, he didn't let himself breathe. Just the silence. Well, it sounded almost completely silent. He heard heavy breathing. It was gravelly and sounded annoyed. "Collins, I know you're here somewhere." His father. He said nothing, he did nothing, didn't even move. "Julius-Anna. Get over here now." The man was clearly drunk, he was slurring his words. He kicked a trash bin nearby, Julius flinched. Nothing, nothing. His father kept kicking cans until the little avian was kicked. He let out a little yelp. "There you are."

He was yanked out of the trash can. The next few moments were him being dragged home, kicking, crying and screaming. For both of our sakes, I won't even describe what pain he went through when he got home. Little Julius sat down on his bed hours later. Quietly crying and tending to his own wounds and bruises. "One day, we'll run somewhere better. Maybe with my cousins?" He brought out his notepad and started reading the options he'd been considering for months. Two in specific stood out to him. Murder, and run away. The ginger shook his head and hid his notepad. He finally let himself sleep.

Uhm yeah, again these are all rough drafts so yknow-I'm workshopping it