We're all fucked without the dreamers Sir.
Francis Grieve, Ann Maclain, Samantha Thorpe.
Not that they used those I.D.s much but those were their "school names"
It's not at Im confident of this so I'm putting it down it's a jesus did that happen? and if it did we want to not be pussy footy around it any longer.
In the flat. In the middle of the night. Together and uninvited. Pablo sleeping.
They weren't there to be friends with us.
We needed feel on our own with all, we had been talking and they had heard us and shared back but more importantly they armed us.
Two each.
Shouted to Pabs to stay in bed and not move but didnt go in his room until we reloaded in our bedroom. Hands shaking a bit. The relief at what would of happened not happening. The fucking horribleness of it all. How its impossible to regret whilst wanting so much for it to happen. Same as ever. Phone calls came first. Whatever mind, whatever heart in those women was long gone. Surgically in some cases and all the ways of course.
It was hardly the first time Pabs was in the close proximity to weapons being discharged and we knew that whilst still feeling like it was the first I had even though I knew that what was crap. We stepped over the three of them to get back to his room and lay with him until he feel asleep. We barely took our eyes of the piece. It was sinking even further that Mother was gone. Why was there silence? Why weren't we fighting and outnumbered? Because she and her station where gone. Cant remember what we told Pablo. Only enough so he would fall asleep.
It was hitting us as we left his room how many scum bags would be after us for this. They wouldn't be girls we had survived with and fought with that had been consenting, enforcing and earning of it for years now. That has power over victims who cant or wont become a raping and earning ring members. You always want them to change but you know they cant because of the horrific things they have done and they horrific people they are involved with.
I don't know if we just stood there in the wall for a while before attempting to remember who they fuck we were and to get it together. Parts of us were annoyed the relief and the hope that is always so short lived by whatever horrendous amateur was upfront. Others of course were telling them to hush up. She had done the job when she was alone and petrified and why the hell weren't they around to help then anyway?
We didnt want to touch anything. We really needed the scene to be captured as it was without anything being moved or touched. We knew it would get arranged and set up to look like I had murdered them in cold blood when all they did was come over to talk or some shit. We sat on the couch while everything they had done to me and and people I loved over all the years rose up out of the depths and started towering, leaning over us.
The phone rang eventually. Gun shots heard. Is everything ok? The oh thank fuck its you exhale on the line. The holy shit did we honestly just think "where have we heard that before" then she gets smothered. We needed this processed and we needed a person. We asked if there was anyone friendly around and said that they would do but they did sound like they might be newish. We needed someone who knew about all this from longer back. Then I think we got terrified of what we had just possibly just said there and asked just for people, ones that examine murder scenes, the words "professionals even." may of been used. He was definitely trying to calm us down and keep us on the line. He may of made some deliberately very unfunny jokes about what sort of "professional" I was after. We were happy to be held on the line. It felt like if he wasnt talking to us our body was going to be sucked into space.
This wasnt like it usually is when we just want the corpses out the fuck out way and were used to the wacko way things are and how often we have kill to stay alive and to protect kids. This was different parts and it took a little while for the rest of us to relax and let her be really talked to. She hadn't mastered co consciousness yet. This meant the more she came out the more the rest of us faded and became utterly powerless. Exactly what the abusers are after.
Enough saw and we were looked after. There was no mistaking it. The where and when the what they had with them the contacts in their phones their address, their hard drives, their everything. And the state we were in. A few were brought in just for that. The idea we were some sort of killing machine. 24/7 and could defend our self and any number of kids from anything.. They had to see those states. They had to see how much older Pabs was than us and how we were not the child they remembered, we were terrified and broken and could barely talk and clearly had no or little short term or long term memory. They had to be told how hard it was to get that gun to us and keep it there and how much death and loss and fighting there is in other countries and how directly it relates.
We started talking about the recent rapes and Jacqui and Elaine and Graham and the boys and everything that was going on recently and the institute and soldiers when we were young. And some of the horrors in the middle. Locals plus nationals finding stuff out what over seas knew decades ago just from talking to us. Guy teaching the Brits about how to not antagonise our anxiety levels, how to recognise and bring us out of terror and shock.. So patient with all the parts but so quick to call us out when we are hiding true feelings or hurting parts. And explaining it to the masonic tools who were longer in the position to lord it over us.. They tried some of the usual shit, junkie, prostitute, terrorist, murder, child abuser type ilk to someone who had been working with us on very serious and complex operations for over a decade and who worked closely with people who had known us for a lot longer..
The next day we watched as someone dusted the door frames, admiring their technique. It was beautiful and we said they should be an artist. They said they preferred they work they did. We said we understood. We were doing ok, better. We were not letting our thoughts and feelings run away thinking about the prints that could be on there or how layered they were. There was a brief convo about us not washing down the doors or door jams a lot and most of the abusers had no fear of any unwanted consequences from leaving proof that they had been there. They had been right to of been fearless mostly before but without the direct involvement of Mother any more things were different. We also weren't over thinking why the sight of dusting and wood work covered in grey and black was so relaxing we had to look away because we were being transported to different times.
When the junior masonic tool heard she was gone and the place permanently destroy he dropped and told the senior to fuck off while he crawled over for a hug. Guy let him have his hug then told him to back off we were glad. It never felt right codling people who left you to be raped and murdered because they felt it was just the way the world works. It was good to know that her departure and our role in it was going to get round the British masonic tool network though.
Andy who was the bloke on the end of the line was brought in to sit and stay with us. We were coming back to ourself so we gave Guy a I dont think we can do this glance that just made him smile when he told him to sit with us. Guy would never have told him to sit that close to us when our head we were split it just would of triggered us. Before he left he reminded us both that I still hadnt had consensual sex yet ever and it was increasingly important we got it out the way particularly as there was some horrific and ridiculous Satanic bet made when we were very little that I wouldn't be able to have consensual sex by the time I was thirty and it would be better to win it rather than loose it. Also because we wanted to of course. Especially now without Mother's eyes. It was possible.
It didnt happen then. We just talked and joked and cuddled. But it did happen.
It is not easy to describe to how it feels to be an almost thirty year old women and to have phone call after phone call where you hear rooms of people all cheering and celebrating that you have been laid for the first time.
:-\
Not that they used those I.D.s much but those were their "school names"
It's not at Im confident of this so I'm putting it down it's a jesus did that happen? and if it did we want to not be pussy footy around it any longer.
In the flat. In the middle of the night. Together and uninvited. Pablo sleeping.
They weren't there to be friends with us.
We needed feel on our own with all, we had been talking and they had heard us and shared back but more importantly they armed us.
Two each.
Shouted to Pabs to stay in bed and not move but didnt go in his room until we reloaded in our bedroom. Hands shaking a bit. The relief at what would of happened not happening. The fucking horribleness of it all. How its impossible to regret whilst wanting so much for it to happen. Same as ever. Phone calls came first. Whatever mind, whatever heart in those women was long gone. Surgically in some cases and all the ways of course.
It was hardly the first time Pabs was in the close proximity to weapons being discharged and we knew that whilst still feeling like it was the first I had even though I knew that what was crap. We stepped over the three of them to get back to his room and lay with him until he feel asleep. We barely took our eyes of the piece. It was sinking even further that Mother was gone. Why was there silence? Why weren't we fighting and outnumbered? Because she and her station where gone. Cant remember what we told Pablo. Only enough so he would fall asleep.
It was hitting us as we left his room how many scum bags would be after us for this. They wouldn't be girls we had survived with and fought with that had been consenting, enforcing and earning of it for years now. That has power over victims who cant or wont become a raping and earning ring members. You always want them to change but you know they cant because of the horrific things they have done and they horrific people they are involved with.
I don't know if we just stood there in the wall for a while before attempting to remember who they fuck we were and to get it together. Parts of us were annoyed the relief and the hope that is always so short lived by whatever horrendous amateur was upfront. Others of course were telling them to hush up. She had done the job when she was alone and petrified and why the hell weren't they around to help then anyway?
We didnt want to touch anything. We really needed the scene to be captured as it was without anything being moved or touched. We knew it would get arranged and set up to look like I had murdered them in cold blood when all they did was come over to talk or some shit. We sat on the couch while everything they had done to me and and people I loved over all the years rose up out of the depths and started towering, leaning over us.
The phone rang eventually. Gun shots heard. Is everything ok? The oh thank fuck its you exhale on the line. The holy shit did we honestly just think "where have we heard that before" then she gets smothered. We needed this processed and we needed a person. We asked if there was anyone friendly around and said that they would do but they did sound like they might be newish. We needed someone who knew about all this from longer back. Then I think we got terrified of what we had just possibly just said there and asked just for people, ones that examine murder scenes, the words "professionals even." may of been used. He was definitely trying to calm us down and keep us on the line. He may of made some deliberately very unfunny jokes about what sort of "professional" I was after. We were happy to be held on the line. It felt like if he wasnt talking to us our body was going to be sucked into space.
This wasnt like it usually is when we just want the corpses out the fuck out way and were used to the wacko way things are and how often we have kill to stay alive and to protect kids. This was different parts and it took a little while for the rest of us to relax and let her be really talked to. She hadn't mastered co consciousness yet. This meant the more she came out the more the rest of us faded and became utterly powerless. Exactly what the abusers are after.
Enough saw and we were looked after. There was no mistaking it. The where and when the what they had with them the contacts in their phones their address, their hard drives, their everything. And the state we were in. A few were brought in just for that. The idea we were some sort of killing machine. 24/7 and could defend our self and any number of kids from anything.. They had to see those states. They had to see how much older Pabs was than us and how we were not the child they remembered, we were terrified and broken and could barely talk and clearly had no or little short term or long term memory. They had to be told how hard it was to get that gun to us and keep it there and how much death and loss and fighting there is in other countries and how directly it relates.
We started talking about the recent rapes and Jacqui and Elaine and Graham and the boys and everything that was going on recently and the institute and soldiers when we were young. And some of the horrors in the middle. Locals plus nationals finding stuff out what over seas knew decades ago just from talking to us. Guy teaching the Brits about how to not antagonise our anxiety levels, how to recognise and bring us out of terror and shock.. So patient with all the parts but so quick to call us out when we are hiding true feelings or hurting parts. And explaining it to the masonic tools who were longer in the position to lord it over us.. They tried some of the usual shit, junkie, prostitute, terrorist, murder, child abuser type ilk to someone who had been working with us on very serious and complex operations for over a decade and who worked closely with people who had known us for a lot longer..
The next day we watched as someone dusted the door frames, admiring their technique. It was beautiful and we said they should be an artist. They said they preferred they work they did. We said we understood. We were doing ok, better. We were not letting our thoughts and feelings run away thinking about the prints that could be on there or how layered they were. There was a brief convo about us not washing down the doors or door jams a lot and most of the abusers had no fear of any unwanted consequences from leaving proof that they had been there. They had been right to of been fearless mostly before but without the direct involvement of Mother any more things were different. We also weren't over thinking why the sight of dusting and wood work covered in grey and black was so relaxing we had to look away because we were being transported to different times.
When the junior masonic tool heard she was gone and the place permanently destroy he dropped and told the senior to fuck off while he crawled over for a hug. Guy let him have his hug then told him to back off we were glad. It never felt right codling people who left you to be raped and murdered because they felt it was just the way the world works. It was good to know that her departure and our role in it was going to get round the British masonic tool network though.
Andy who was the bloke on the end of the line was brought in to sit and stay with us. We were coming back to ourself so we gave Guy a I dont think we can do this glance that just made him smile when he told him to sit with us. Guy would never have told him to sit that close to us when our head we were split it just would of triggered us. Before he left he reminded us both that I still hadnt had consensual sex yet ever and it was increasingly important we got it out the way particularly as there was some horrific and ridiculous Satanic bet made when we were very little that I wouldn't be able to have consensual sex by the time I was thirty and it would be better to win it rather than loose it. Also because we wanted to of course. Especially now without Mother's eyes. It was possible.
It didnt happen then. We just talked and joked and cuddled. But it did happen.
It is not easy to describe to how it feels to be an almost thirty year old women and to have phone call after phone call where you hear rooms of people all cheering and celebrating that you have been laid for the first time.
:-\
