What Makes a Savage? [*REWRITE*]

The Past's Scars

I assume the plant or herb you gathered from the forest was intended for the treatment of your asthma, correct?The interviewer inquired while perusing some documents, their gaze not fully meeting theirs.

Following a prolonged period of silence, Iris maintained her unbroken gaze at him before reclining in her chair once again and responding with a simple "Yes."

The man looked over some papers with his expression remaining blank.

"I can only imagine how challenging it must have been for you to manage, especially considering everything else you were dealing with," he responded, finally focusing on a paper that had caught his attention. "Being diagnosed with PTSD at the age of 17 upon entering the colony," he continued, raising his gaze from the paper to meet her eyes.

While her facial expression remained constant, a slight twitch could be observed in her hands, which were positioned in her lap.

"To be diagnosed with both at such a young age..... Along with taking care of your sickly-

"What's your point?" she interjected abruptly, her hands clenched tightly, her gaze challenging him to proceed.

The man let out a massive sigh as he gazed seriously at the woman in front of him, their eyes locked in a prolonged exchange. "Considering all these misfortunes, do you believe they contribute to your struggle with alcoholism?" The mere mention of it caused the tension in the room to intensify, like layers of thin ice.

At that moment, the brunette began to laugh in a dry and loud manner, which caught the interviewer somewhat off guard.

"So you're going to go there, aren't you? I don't know if I find it funny or insulting, maybe both," she said as her eyes looked clearly amused.

The man, however, found himself unsure of how to respond, given that this was the woman's most emotional display thus far, and it was also the first time she had raised her voice.

"Given your background, it is not unexpected that you would have succumbed to such vices. Alcohol and drugs have frequently been utilized as a form of solace. " He said as he closed the file.

"Though I believe you were trying to drown yourself to find it, "he implied seriously. 

Iris tilted her head slightly. "there wasn't enough alcohol to drown my nightmares..." turning her head away from him slightly" though I can't say I didn't try back then..." 

"Do you still have nightmares, Iris?" he asked straightforwardly.

She looked at him dead in the eye.

"Nightmares never leave me, even when I'm awake."

—-------

With great anticipation, she gazed through the iron bars, observing the Sun as it gradually descended upon the horizon. Each pant and wheeze caused her lungs and ribs to ache, while pain radiated throughout her body, leaving her barely able to move. She possessed only enough strength to maintain her gaze fixed upon the bars, her eyes darting anxiously between the Sun and the gate of the prison in which she was confined. In actuality, the prison resembled a confinement similar to a cage, as it was once been an enclosure for one of the animals at the San Francisco zoo.