Navada
Bed with red wine, weed and chocolate. Louise would approve. We need the nutrition. It's where we are at. The first few hours at least usually gives a break in particularly bad weepiness and irritability.
We were found in states together sometimes that they wouldnt want to separate. We were literally finishing each others sentences and knew what each other were feeling. She understood better than we did that we had work to do that would seperate us sometimes and once we were separate every self obsessed sadist handler controlled greedy rapist and every intentionally ignorant evil cunt across the world were clamouring to get in between us and that was when we were little kids, never mind decades past puberty.
She was an unbelievable learner, confidence only thing that stood in her way. We would make out we were helping her way more than we were because as long she thought we were in control she was amazing. She had to keep quiet on so much though we all did.
We were in partial disbelief at the public displays of grief. Not that they weren't necessarily genuine just that it was like they had repeatedly picked something up and threw it against a wall, watched other people throw it against a wall and now were genuinely shocked that she broke.
Did Morag McMaster die to? Please say yes. For being an abuser on the scene and had been involved in hurting Louise and me really badly like we had been saying for twenty years? Fucking hope so. Nathan didn't. And its one of those will always hate ourself a little bit for that. For the bairns. There's no safety for them. And for Louise who was such a whore she gave him essential care when he was a baby. There is no greater transgression..
Trevor showed up via a rapist gate which was promptly closed so he was taken off in a nice comfy car by fascist spooks because he may well of died to if he had stayed on the scene he was used to set up when Louise was still lying cold.
Christ we were glad we had already done the switch with our dad. She was right about that to. If he had actually physically left us there in that at that time it might of been a bit irreparable.
In the office a guy burst in freaking about unidentified sorties heading in this direction. We said they werent unidentified and werent coming to where we were the were mine and going to Mother's. After some confused noises from the junior staff dude and some silence from everyone else we all ran up to the roof to watch.
We were a mess and handed the glasses over as soon as got visual confirmation that yep that was Mother's long term, repeatability rebuilt, centre of operations, institute of torture being bombed from close range by our planes. She was already dead. We knew that and with everything else there was no way that was being rebuilt. Then had to lie down. Just on the concrete and stones on the roof there as the smoke trailed and the noise was audible but too far away to be intrusive. Think the sky was verging on baby blue to power blue that day, a couple of clouds here and there. We spent a lot of time watching little cracks of that sky. The rest were on chairs that someone had had the fore thought to ask someone else to put up there. Smiling, wearing shades and holding each other.
We spotted the troopers watching as well below and there was a patch of mutual hooting and hollering between us on the roof of the boys on the ground.
Before they left the sorties hang over us on the roof. Three. Two bombers. Fighter for back up that was utterly unneeded as we thought but she looks lovely and the pilot needed the flying hours. We were kinda surprised to see most the dudes on chairs all watching us and not looking at what was above them. One guy was though.
"Wow."
"I know."
No one else seemed to care.. They were still smiling at us on the ground.
