Thurs Threads, week 145


The cat just sat there and watched. From time to time, she’d raise her head and cock an ear, but then she’d set it back down on her paws and stare, her bright pink tongue flitting out to wash her nose.

I screamed. Of course I did. They knew what they were doing, and the part of me that had done the same thing to lists of people forever gone appreciated their professional skill. I had long wondered how I’d hold up under my ministrations, and now I had my answer.

Sometimes you torture because you want answers. Not truth – that’s as absurd a concept as justice. Just an answer that you can record on tape and take to whoever thought this person had something to say. And sometimes you torture to punish. I thought that’s what they were after tonight, but I was wrong.

Because after a while, you torture because in the screams of others, you find the only peace you understand anymore.

And after, when I had no voice left, and no fingernails, and no skin, she stood up and padded over to me. I knew I should never have given her a taste for blood.

199 words


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