[Once upon a time, there was a young man who was being interrogated by the police for something he certainly didn't do -- or at least, something he didn't remember doing -- and during that long, terrible interrogation (that involved far more torture than questions, a ratio the man really didn't appreciate), he closed his eyes and prayed. Please take me away from this, please take me away --
When he opened his eyes again, he was in the sand.
Katurian Katurian, a small man with dusty blond hair and enough bruises to fill a canvas board, chokes and gasps on the shore. The salt water makes his wounds feel larger, wider, as though the cuts and abrasions were encircling his body like eels.
When he looks up from the ground after a particularly harsh cough, he sees a figure in the distance.
Immediately, he shoots his arms up in surrender.]
I'm s-so sorry, I d-didn't mean to -- I didn't mean to run away, I didn't put myself here, someone must have taken me, someone fucking took me, and I shouldn't be sorry for that, that's not my fault, none of this is my fault!
[It's a little hard to tell if his primary emotion is anger or terror. He isn't sure either.]
Katurian Katurian | The Pillowman
[Once upon a time, there was a young man who was being interrogated by the police for something he certainly didn't do -- or at least, something he didn't remember doing -- and during that long, terrible interrogation (that involved far more torture than questions, a ratio the man really didn't appreciate), he closed his eyes and prayed. Please take me away from this, please take me away --
When he opened his eyes again, he was in the sand.
Katurian Katurian, a small man with dusty blond hair and enough bruises to fill a canvas board, chokes and gasps on the shore. The salt water makes his wounds feel larger, wider, as though the cuts and abrasions were encircling his body like eels.
When he looks up from the ground after a particularly harsh cough, he sees a figure in the distance.
Immediately, he shoots his arms up in surrender.]
I'm s-so sorry, I d-didn't mean to -- I didn't mean to run away, I didn't put myself here, someone must have taken me, someone fucking took me, and I shouldn't be sorry for that, that's not my fault, none of this is my fault!
[It's a little hard to tell if his primary emotion is anger or terror. He isn't sure either.]
wildcard;
[Hit me!]