Toby

Back under the duvet. Hot thing on tummy, spliff between fingers, tea on hand, food in belly.. Cleaned the kitchen a bit, sat outside and admired our work and hoovered the down stairs. Well some of it. So pretty good. We woke up early keen to start the day of tea and spliffs and duvet. Girls on our mind so much. Getting hold of the lad. Our lad. Tupac (Sorry for your loss..). Lots of people :-) Esp. tea in the restaurant with the girls and dad showing up because he saw outside smoking when they were lost in Dundee centre. It was suggested we went there with Pabs after. The expected internal light bulb switching on and emotional overwhelming was blinding and predictably overwhelming.. Necessary though.

So yeah Pabs is left to it. He was telling me he was depressed after we got him to come outside and eat baked tatties and had an argument about the entirely bland chicken that was disgusting before he had tried it..We told him he was watching too much screens. He is. He played with the hose for a while and watered the plants, then cleaned up some of the trash from his room. We have let him go back on the screens now. We cant handle them much at the moment, not is the pictures are all vivid and moving and the sound all loud. We have that in our head enough..

Toby. Of the living breathing variety. Who had been in his whole life. Into his grandad's arms, into the sky and off this charming Isle. And thanks for the covering fire.

Our mother. Of the female, made a deal to get out the breeding but let them take her eggs. Or so we told our self for years but it wasnt that simple. She was a very sick women. Doing horrific damage to everyone and everything that isnt evil as fuck through the work she had been doing the whole time. Not something we could do personally she watched us to closely or ask someone else to do. We knew that once it happened the rings would pressure us to avenge it and it would be relentless and wouldn't stop until the job was done anyway.

We started making out like she was helping us. Folk that tortured us for the names and locations of people who helped us often didn't get that our mum was a bloke/s or the DID so they thought the voices of mothers we made up were someone else. The dude that gave us her location wasn't happy about it because of her rank over there and only did it because he trusted us from working with us but think when he saw the work she was really doing he felt a lot better about it. A lot. Dad or his guy who is a friend didn't know until we told him at the restaurant. Don't think he believed it was possible. There were was so much he didn't know for so long. She got between me and everything and everyone that was good for me.

Of course none of that shit works if you cant convince torturers both amateur and professions with decades of experience behind them. Never as much experience as us at reading abusers while not giving too much away to whoever is studying it though. They all got days off and never had to rely solely on their own wits..

Very. Horrific. Existence.

Much less horrific and an actual chance of a life now though..

Hopefully..

:-)


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