FLASHBACKS

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FLASHBACKS

Calum

His mother.

What would she say if she knew he was here?

Calum's mouth twisted into a demented scowl. Thanks to his father, he'd never have any idea.

But also, thanks to himself.

He'd pulled the trigger, after all.

Five years old. He'd barely known how to read and write.

But he'd known how to shoot a gun.

Although he didn't know what his mother would say, he knew exactly what his father would say.

YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! THIS ISNT HOW I RAISED YOU!

Except it was.

The voice was too vivid. Too real.

Not another one, Calum thought desperately.

Calum was pretty sure that once the memories quit, he'd be able to quit drugs. But he hadn't had a hit in almost a week. Ever since the cop had found the cocaine in his trunk, the drugs saturated in his blood-

YOU'RE A FUCK UP. AND IT'S THIS BITCH'S FAULT. GIVE HER WHAT SHE DESERVES. PULL THE DAMN TRIGGER, CALUM.

Calum cringed at the bang resounding in his head.

The drugs killed the memories pretty well. Or, at the very least, they put them in a coma. They disappeared from his mind with the smoke.

But the drugs were gone, and the memories were back, more potent than ever before.

The door opened, and Calum jumped so hard that the chair fell to the floor.

He trembled.

The man standing in the door looked at Calum with concern. "Hello, Mr. Hood. I'm your psychiatrist, Dr. Radar."

Calum flinched. "Hi."

Dr. Radar hesitated in the doorway. "Erm, can I come in?"

Calum shrugged, picking the chair up and sitting in it. "It's your asylum, isn't it?"

The doctor took it as a sign of approval and came in, sitting across from Calum. "Is everything alright?"

Calum shot him a look. "I'm in an asylum. Does it seem like everything is alright? I'm in a fucking crazy house. I've never been alright in my entire life."

Dr. Radar frowned. "What's been going on?"

Calum laughed in disbelief. "Like you don't already know."

Dr. Radar shrugged. "There's not much on you. Drugs, addiction, substance abuse," he listed, reading off of his clipboard. He looked up at Calum. "But people go to rehab for that stuff, not to an asylum."

"Why'd they send me here, then?" Calum asked, trying to block out the memories that were starting to surface.

"You were interviewed by Officer Janice Kelly when you arrived at the jail. They sent us a transcription of the recording," Dr. Radar said significantly, as if this information was supposed to result in some kind of epiphany.

Calum looked at him blankly, albeit impatient. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

"You were screaming about how you didn't want 'her' to die," Dr. Radar said.

Calum winced. "My mother."

Dr. Radar's pen scratched against the notepad. "Your mother died?"

Calum nodded. "When I was five," he whispered.

"She was killed."

It wasn't a question.

Calum nodded again. "I was there."

Dr. Radar's pen paused. "Do you remember the scene?"

Calum closed his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands against them. "I don't want to," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I really don't want to."

Despite his words, his mind began to drag him back into his hellish past.

There was shattered glass all over the floor. His mother was on the floor, scratched up, bleeding. She looked up at Calum with wide, pleading eyes.

"Please," she whispered.

Beside him, Calum's father's voice ordered, "Shoot her."

Calum's hand trembled, but despite himself, his fingers curled around the gun. He didn't want to get beat again.

He was still bruised from the last time.

"I said shoot her!"

Calum raised the gun, his hand shaking so badly, he was sure he'd miss.

"PULL THE DAMN TRIGGER!"

Calum closed his eyes.

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