|Jayden Alexander Delacroix (likeafirestar) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2015-02-23 00:09:00
|Entry tags:||adrian delacroix, isaiah delacroix, jayden delacroix, jess van der berg, jesse delacroix, lena rainmayr, nicholas rowland|
WHO: Jayden Delacroix
WHAT: Just slowly dying
WHEN: The three days leading up to nowish
WHERE: A cheap motel
WARNINGS: Post-abduction badness
In the days after his father abandoned him, Jayden knew it was what he deserved. Jayden's brother had lied to him about his father's death and his father had come for him, and the moment his father had been around Jayden long enough to remember just how worthless he was, he had left. Unfortunately for Jayden, he had been left cuffed to the bed and gagged so he couldn't leave the room or even call for help.
His breath was loud in his ears as he lay there with only his self-loathing thoughts for company. He struggled against the bonds for a while, but it was pointless and all it did was tire him out. He tried to scream from behind the gag, but it hurt his throat and it was nowhere near loud enough for anyone to hear over the clanky heating system in the motel.
Not that the heat was on in Jayden's room. The vents had been closed and the chill seeped through his skin, settling in his bones and making them ache. He managed to shift himself so he was under the blankets, but it was all he could do.
Whether he deserved to be abandoned or not, Jayden still cried. He knew he was wasting precious moisture, but he couldn't help it. He was so scared he was going to die, and why wouldn't he? No one in the entire world cared enough about him to find him.
And so he laid there for three days while his moments of consciousness became fewer and farther between. Perhaps that was a mercy, considering how thirsty he was. The hunger had been bad, sure, but he had done worse to himself. He was used to it. He lost the little weight he had struggled so hard to gain and it didn't matter that much to him. The thirst raged and burned in his throat and turned his tongue into an arid, sticky thing, useless in his mouth; so dry he actually thought it might crack.
He had lost consciousness again when he was finally found by a maid who had gotten curious about the strong smell of stale urine and feces coming from the room. To say she was shocked to find a chained up boy, unconscious and lying in his own filth was an understatement.
Consciousness didn't return to him as he was rushed to hospital, nor when he went into a seizure as he was being cleaned up. They did what they could for him, the little unclaimed boy in the emergency room. Given the state of him, his doctors actually assumed he had been abducted months ago. The police were called, but the little John Doe didn't match any reports.
And still Jayden slept, unconscious for another day.
When he finally woke up, Jayden glanced around the stark white room. It wasn't familiar, but it wasn't the motel. Oh god, where was he?!
Even though there was no power behind it, Jayden immediately started to fight the tubes in his arm and nose. When nurses rushed to hold him down, he tried to fight them too, screams ripping his tender throat. Only when he was sedated did he relax against the mattress. It was still another few hours before anyone could even ask his name. And when they finally did, they were able to call his next of kin.
The one person Jayden knew he couldn't trust.