birds flying high

chapter one

↳ november 19, 1970, 1:36am

he couldn't breathe.

the sound of shoes against pavement echoed through the street and no matter how fast he ran the feeling of panic and dread was settled in his chest, weighing him down like a rock.

his lungs burned and his chest ached and tears began to cloud his vision, but he couldn't stop. adrenaline wasn't the thing keeping him going - fear was. fear of what would come next when the trio of men caught up with him. people were violent, after all. violence satisfied people just as much as inflicting pain upon others did, and declan knew he was the perfect target.

declan knew that what was coming was his fault, but in his defense, he had always flown under the radar. no one ever saw him at the protests. no one ever saw him at the rallies. no one ever followed him, watching as he folded up his sign to start his peaceful, quiet walk home - at least not until today.

the sound of voices calling out caused more tears to well up in his eyes, but he knew he was outnumbered. he knew he was outmatched. he knew he was fucked, but above all, he knew that the people who lived and owned businesses in the buildings on the street would turn a blind eye. declan knew he wouldn't be helped, because everyone else knew that you didn't snitch on others. everyone else knew you didn't stop a fight. it was late, and what? someone would go out to investigate a stranger yelling for help? there was no way. it was tough times, and people held no sympathy for others, and so when declan felt a hand fall on his shoulder and pull him back he had no hope that he would be saved. he did yell out for help though.

the yelling was most likely a natural reaction, since he knew there was no use in doing so. he wasn't expecting a knight in shining armour to save him as he called for someone to phone the police or save him because he was being physically assaulted. the yelling didn't go on for too long though, because the attack quickly grew more violent.

declan was pushed to the ground and spit on. he was kicked in the face and kneed in the neck. he was bloody and bruised, and when he curled into a ball two of the men grabbed his arms and held his struggling body so that he wasn't able to protect himself. it wasn't long before the third man decided to really mess up the young 23 year old and cause trauma for years to come. the third guy went to his knees and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down. at this point declan was yelling bloody murder, autopilot taking over what he was saying. when his head was brought up then smashed into the corner of a pavement curb he quieted down upon momentarily blacking out. the guys didn't notice nor care, and continued on with their beating.

when declan came back into reality seconds later he wasn't screaming. he was crying, begging for the three to stop. he was thrashing and trying to get out of their hold before they stripped him bare and did whatever they were planning to do. their verbal threats for him to keep still didn't make their way to his ears, meaning the third guy had to straddle declan to keep him from leaving their grasp. the jeans were almost fully removed rather quickly from there, leaving declan in a complete state of panic.

his mind was spinning as his thoughts were overcome with ways of how to leave the current situation. however no matter what he came up with, declan knew that none of it would work. as the sound of fabric tearing filled his ears he suddenly felt very sick to his stomach. he felt like throwing up and passing out all at the same time, and he wasn't even sure if he was struggling to leave the men's hold anymore. declan's head was foggy and nothing was processing properly. it was as if his natural reaction of fight or flight was malfunctioning and leaving him an unresponsive mess.