How are you today?
Oh, you know. The walls here are very… attentive. They listen better than most people.
Do you feel like people haven’t listened to you in the past?
People hear what they want to hear. The truth doesn’t fit into neat little boxes. It’s more like… smoke.
Is that why you’re here? Because people didn’t understand your truth?
Maybe I’m here because I understood theirs too well. People don’t like that, do they? When you see them. Really see them.
When you say “see them,” what do you mean?
You ever look at someone and just know what they’re capable of? The things they’d do if they thought no one was watching?
Do you feel like a monster?
Monsters are simple. They growl, they bite. I’m… something else. Something quieter.
What would you call yourself, then?
A curator. I collect… moments. Fragments. And sometimes, to preserve them, you have to make sacrifices.
Sacrifices?
Everything has a price. Even beauty.
You mentioned beauty. Are you referring to something specific?
Beauty is everywhere, if you know how to look. In the way light falls through the bars. In the sound of a scream.
You sound like you’ve thought a lot about this.
I’ve had time. So much time. And time is a funny thing. It stretches, it bends, it… unravels.
Do you feel remorse for what you’ve done?
Remorse? That’s such a… small word. Let’s just say I’ve made my peace.
Made your peace with what?
With the inevitable.
And what is the inevitable?
The end, Doctor. It’s always the end.
Do you think about death often?
Not death. What comes after. The silence. The stillness. It’s… beautiful, in a way.
Is that why you’re here? Because of the noise?
Maybe. Or maybe I’m here because I wanted to see what it felt like. To be… still.
And how does it feel?
Like I’m finally awake.