|Lachlan Callum Blackwood (writeonmyheart) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2017-02-01 23:17:00
|Entry tags:||iain blackwood, lachlan blackwood|
WHO: Lachlan and Iain Blackwood
WHAT: Memories and a cal for help and then discussing memories
WHEN: Tuesday evening
WHERE: An alley and then one of their houses I expect.
WARNINGS: Talk of abuse, drugs and rape.
It happened less often these days, but there were times when visions of his past still caught Lachlan off guard. There would be a sound, or a fraction of a song, a face in a crowd...even a scent that would trigger a flash of memory and that was all it took for the force of the horror of his childhood to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave, crushing and dark.
Ciaran had been out of town for several days by the time it happened, attending to business of some kind or the other. Lachlan hadn't asked if it was medical business or family business. He didn't want to know. He had quietly gotten on with things in Ciaran's absence, and he was on his way home from the library when a man who reminded him of a past foster father slipped past him.
That was all it took. Just a glance from those eyes.
A wave of nausea overtook him and Lachlan ducked into a handy alleyway, crumpling against the wall where he immediately vomited out his lunch onto the pavement. His heart was pounding in his chest and even though he knew there was no way the man he had seen was actually his former foster father, considering he was in prison in Glasgow right now, Lachlan still felt like he had every night in that house.
He balled his fist into his shirt, directly over his chest. It had been a rare placement where Lachlan had been able to have Norah with him and he had been so happy at first, at least until the father, Daniel, had made it very well known that if Lachlan didn't allow Daniel into his bed night after night, he would harm Norah. Daniel had said it with a smile on his face. Lachlan remembered he had tried to fight Daniel off, and Daniel wouldn't let him. The exact phrase, and Lachlan remembered it like it was yesterday, was, 'if you don't shut the fuck up and lie still, I am going to shove your sister's fucking hands into the oven until they blister and crack'.
"Jesus," Lachlan desperately tried to breathe, but he was in full panic attack now. Remembering one thing led to another and another and so on, until he was picturing every single horrible thing his parents had put him through. Every night Daniel or one of the other assholes who raped him had forced him to comply. He recalled a time when he was eight when he had forgotten what it felt like to feel full or hell, even simply not being hungry.
With shaking hands, Lachlan pulled out his mobile and started to dial Ciaran before realising he was out of town. "Fuck," he hissed, deleting the numbers and biting his lip. He had to call someone and quick, and it was either his uncle or his siblings. Quickly, he picked Iain, simply because his name came first, alphabetically. Then he held the phone to his ear, willing Iain to pick up.