Any orders Sir?
He's all inward smiles and chuffed looking, we can feel his relief that we are here but there is something else to, something closer to positive expectation. We cant think what the hell that could be about. We sit down on the couch opposite him and give him an inquisitive look.
'Happy birthday.'
Eh? Today isn't our birthday, our birthday is .. oh yeah... fuck..
The two of us in a shack I had started then when he ran away as well and joined us he helped improve and maintain it a lot. Everything was so much easier when there is more than one body trying to do all the work, emotionally though it made for a completely different world, there was real comfort, laughter and fun. Think was rainy day when we were inside safe and mostly dry talking about not knowing when our birthdays were and wishing we did. Think it was me who said we could make one up, it wasn't like most of the kids we knew we eating cake, being taken on trips, getting presents and having parties on the dates they were actually born on. It was definitely you who suggested the first on August you had more reasons for it being then than we can remember other than that date being close and we would still be together. Remember feeling they were wonderful though. You were doing that thing we you looked out at the near distance and spoke with so much insight, intelligence and warmth that it would remind us we weren't the only kid with half a brain left alive, always made us love you even more than we believed we were capable of and sometimes made us cry.
We had gotten a gun and silencer of some dude from one of less horrific gangs. Blokes in expensive suits and shoes wondering around the glens and hill always looked so out of place. I asked them one time when I was taking them somewhere and it was raining hard why didn't wear more appropriate attire and they all looked at me like I had used a language they didn't understand but we were absolutely certain we hadn't.
You woke up and sat up with a jolt by the muffled pop its not like you didn't know exactly what that noise was. You reached for us and we could see you struggle to bring down your panic, you terror.
'What was that?'
'Protein.' I answered then got off our stomach were we had been lying while you slept looking out the open front of our shack when a rabbit had hopped by. You were to triggered though and sobbed for a little while, we were very sorry.
Rabbit skinning wasn't a skill either of us acquired by that point but we both ended up laughing at how much the both of us together were messing it up as well as the grossness of it. We were so glad you were feeling better. Then when it was dark and we were chewing on lumps of charred rabbit we cooked on sticks, picking of the ash when the fell off, smiling at each other you were definitely recovered. It had been a while since we had protein and we talked about how it made us feel so good it was like drugs.
A much better memory than being in a shed made by adults with no open sides that we couldn't get out of and you weren't there and we ate spiders.
Sister was in our dreams last night. Reminding us that misery and abuse can be so much worse when there is someone who cares to witness it but cant help. Her fury at the cannabis denial, calling us a cracker, or crackers, or both..
They have been particularly debilitating recently, the dreams and experiences they bring with them that don't fade during the day but often expand, get more detailed. Pablo screaming and crying for us and being unable to do anything but try and survive what was being done to us in a different room. We remember it as being Sam when we came round, she was there by herself with us in that bedroom in Skene, the one that we had gone through so much us when we were younger and was now and maybe still is Bill's. I think there most of been outside assistance or some fuck up that left her alone with us. We fought with everything we could then once she was down we looked around the room for something to help us make sure she wouldn't be getting up again. Her brain or whatever was in her brain had to not be a functioning anymore if me and Pablo were going to have any chance of being okish. Think it might of been an iron but we may be guessing because we remember the iron and ironing board being permanently set up in Bill's room. Maybe it was his radio, furniture, an ornament. We didn't stop hitting until we saw brain matter and then kept going a few more times just be certain they have had some crazy skills and tech after all and we have been wrong about thinking slavers were dead and gone before.
Once we were very sure we dropped it and ran to Pablo's room. He was hiding in his caught but said, 'Mummy' as soon as we pushed open the door and went into the room. We lifted him out his cot, trying to not look to long at any bruises, cuts or marks. We were both shaking, both sobbing, we were so relieved to him try and speak even if we couldn't make out what he was saying. We couldn't stay where we were so we grabbed blankets and head back to room they had had us in. Pablo's room had a out building roof outside one of the windows and it would of been a way in. He cried and started to shake when we tried to put him down again and we hated doing it but we needed to get water, nappies, formula and any food we could grab from down stairs before someone came back. We also had to drag out the corpse. The mess when we did was a relief, she definitely wasn't going to be used to hurt anymore ever again. After we ran back up stairs with the few things we could grab. we started barricading the door with everything we could, the bed base, the wardrobe, the dresser. We kept having to push away flashbacks of times when we had done the exact same thing in the past, with different furniture, different wall paper, with others, alone, with other babies, pre teen and pregnant but all that same fucking room.
We couldn't decide if the barricade needed the mattress to or if would be okay to use it for us to sit on. Think we managed to calm down a bit there was still no one in the house so took it down for us to sit on. We got a bottle ready for him we had just taken up the kettle filled with water. Sitting on the mattress with him in our arms, we started to feel better. Proud of ourself, proud of him. He clearly had survived whatever had been done to him, as had we.
When people returned and people started shouting banging pushing at the door Pablo was terrified, curled up, clung to us and shook but after a while he started to follow our lead and put his head up and started shouting back at them to. We laughed.
It ended us such shit often ended. A different 'them'. Better spoken, extremely well equipped, better dressed, better smelling, who moved around with a great efficiency and grace, reeking of training, and privilege, they always gave us pangs of jealousy but a little less every time so barely any at all by then. They had some machinery that lifted them high enough and something else that took the window out its frame with ease. They didn't hurt us or threaten us, they state things seriously and even with compassion. Pablo grinned at them but we knew better. Their seriousness was about getting themselves out of there as quickly as possible and it was me they were scared of most not the baby raping slavers. They would end standoff and sieges, stop the daily attacks and attempts but leave us there or bring us back if we can succeed in getting any where. Everyone had to pretend none of it had happened. We had long stopped listening to closely to anything they said. We gave one of them a look when he started saying something about help being on its way I just had to hang on there a bit longer and he looked away, couldn't bring himself to finish it. I had been being told the exact same shit since I was Pablo's age. There was not going to be any help from anyone in any kind of salary, uniform, or military gear and support to get us out but plenty to keep us there.
We did watch them as closely as we could though, their body language between themselves, the words quietly spoken to each other or over communications tech looking for any sign of the work been done to weaken them. We saw it. A tiny deviation in protocol, a hair crack in discipline. It hit us hard. Still with the back against the wall and Pablo in our arms our whole body went loose and we started sobbing. One of the newer less familiar looking ones who acted more like how police/slavers normally do asked us why we were crying. There was clearly a shit tonne of things to be weeping about if you were me so we just looked up and him and asked,
'Are you fucking kidding me?'
He was going to get uppity but a more familiar one shut him down and sent him out. The very fact that someone like that was with them was a solid sign they were falling apart. We felt more present than we had felt in a very long time, we could everything and so aware of and in love with Pablo in our arms as he babbled away like he hadn't recently been tortured and sexually assaulted with the involvement of people he saw regularly, 'family members'.
'Happy birthday.'
Eh? Today isn't our birthday, our birthday is .. oh yeah... fuck..
The two of us in a shack I had started then when he ran away as well and joined us he helped improve and maintain it a lot. Everything was so much easier when there is more than one body trying to do all the work, emotionally though it made for a completely different world, there was real comfort, laughter and fun. Think was rainy day when we were inside safe and mostly dry talking about not knowing when our birthdays were and wishing we did. Think it was me who said we could make one up, it wasn't like most of the kids we knew we eating cake, being taken on trips, getting presents and having parties on the dates they were actually born on. It was definitely you who suggested the first on August you had more reasons for it being then than we can remember other than that date being close and we would still be together. Remember feeling they were wonderful though. You were doing that thing we you looked out at the near distance and spoke with so much insight, intelligence and warmth that it would remind us we weren't the only kid with half a brain left alive, always made us love you even more than we believed we were capable of and sometimes made us cry.
We had gotten a gun and silencer of some dude from one of less horrific gangs. Blokes in expensive suits and shoes wondering around the glens and hill always looked so out of place. I asked them one time when I was taking them somewhere and it was raining hard why didn't wear more appropriate attire and they all looked at me like I had used a language they didn't understand but we were absolutely certain we hadn't.
You woke up and sat up with a jolt by the muffled pop its not like you didn't know exactly what that noise was. You reached for us and we could see you struggle to bring down your panic, you terror.
'What was that?'
'Protein.' I answered then got off our stomach were we had been lying while you slept looking out the open front of our shack when a rabbit had hopped by. You were to triggered though and sobbed for a little while, we were very sorry.
Rabbit skinning wasn't a skill either of us acquired by that point but we both ended up laughing at how much the both of us together were messing it up as well as the grossness of it. We were so glad you were feeling better. Then when it was dark and we were chewing on lumps of charred rabbit we cooked on sticks, picking of the ash when the fell off, smiling at each other you were definitely recovered. It had been a while since we had protein and we talked about how it made us feel so good it was like drugs.
A much better memory than being in a shed made by adults with no open sides that we couldn't get out of and you weren't there and we ate spiders.
Sister was in our dreams last night. Reminding us that misery and abuse can be so much worse when there is someone who cares to witness it but cant help. Her fury at the cannabis denial, calling us a cracker, or crackers, or both..
They have been particularly debilitating recently, the dreams and experiences they bring with them that don't fade during the day but often expand, get more detailed. Pablo screaming and crying for us and being unable to do anything but try and survive what was being done to us in a different room. We remember it as being Sam when we came round, she was there by herself with us in that bedroom in Skene, the one that we had gone through so much us when we were younger and was now and maybe still is Bill's. I think there most of been outside assistance or some fuck up that left her alone with us. We fought with everything we could then once she was down we looked around the room for something to help us make sure she wouldn't be getting up again. Her brain or whatever was in her brain had to not be a functioning anymore if me and Pablo were going to have any chance of being okish. Think it might of been an iron but we may be guessing because we remember the iron and ironing board being permanently set up in Bill's room. Maybe it was his radio, furniture, an ornament. We didn't stop hitting until we saw brain matter and then kept going a few more times just be certain they have had some crazy skills and tech after all and we have been wrong about thinking slavers were dead and gone before.
Once we were very sure we dropped it and ran to Pablo's room. He was hiding in his caught but said, 'Mummy' as soon as we pushed open the door and went into the room. We lifted him out his cot, trying to not look to long at any bruises, cuts or marks. We were both shaking, both sobbing, we were so relieved to him try and speak even if we couldn't make out what he was saying. We couldn't stay where we were so we grabbed blankets and head back to room they had had us in. Pablo's room had a out building roof outside one of the windows and it would of been a way in. He cried and started to shake when we tried to put him down again and we hated doing it but we needed to get water, nappies, formula and any food we could grab from down stairs before someone came back. We also had to drag out the corpse. The mess when we did was a relief, she definitely wasn't going to be used to hurt anymore ever again. After we ran back up stairs with the few things we could grab. we started barricading the door with everything we could, the bed base, the wardrobe, the dresser. We kept having to push away flashbacks of times when we had done the exact same thing in the past, with different furniture, different wall paper, with others, alone, with other babies, pre teen and pregnant but all that same fucking room.
We couldn't decide if the barricade needed the mattress to or if would be okay to use it for us to sit on. Think we managed to calm down a bit there was still no one in the house so took it down for us to sit on. We got a bottle ready for him we had just taken up the kettle filled with water. Sitting on the mattress with him in our arms, we started to feel better. Proud of ourself, proud of him. He clearly had survived whatever had been done to him, as had we.
When people returned and people started shouting banging pushing at the door Pablo was terrified, curled up, clung to us and shook but after a while he started to follow our lead and put his head up and started shouting back at them to. We laughed.
It ended us such shit often ended. A different 'them'. Better spoken, extremely well equipped, better dressed, better smelling, who moved around with a great efficiency and grace, reeking of training, and privilege, they always gave us pangs of jealousy but a little less every time so barely any at all by then. They had some machinery that lifted them high enough and something else that took the window out its frame with ease. They didn't hurt us or threaten us, they state things seriously and even with compassion. Pablo grinned at them but we knew better. Their seriousness was about getting themselves out of there as quickly as possible and it was me they were scared of most not the baby raping slavers. They would end standoff and sieges, stop the daily attacks and attempts but leave us there or bring us back if we can succeed in getting any where. Everyone had to pretend none of it had happened. We had long stopped listening to closely to anything they said. We gave one of them a look when he started saying something about help being on its way I just had to hang on there a bit longer and he looked away, couldn't bring himself to finish it. I had been being told the exact same shit since I was Pablo's age. There was not going to be any help from anyone in any kind of salary, uniform, or military gear and support to get us out but plenty to keep us there.
We did watch them as closely as we could though, their body language between themselves, the words quietly spoken to each other or over communications tech looking for any sign of the work been done to weaken them. We saw it. A tiny deviation in protocol, a hair crack in discipline. It hit us hard. Still with the back against the wall and Pablo in our arms our whole body went loose and we started sobbing. One of the newer less familiar looking ones who acted more like how police/slavers normally do asked us why we were crying. There was clearly a shit tonne of things to be weeping about if you were me so we just looked up and him and asked,
'Are you fucking kidding me?'
He was going to get uppity but a more familiar one shut him down and sent him out. The very fact that someone like that was with them was a solid sign they were falling apart. We felt more present than we had felt in a very long time, we could everything and so aware of and in love with Pablo in our arms as he babbled away like he hadn't recently been tortured and sexually assaulted with the involvement of people he saw regularly, 'family members'.
