Alex

Вас похитили. Похититель всегда насильно кормит вас, режет, оскорбляет, бьет, пинает и всегда пытается застрелить. Ты привязан к шее. Безнадежно. Твой рот заклеен скотчем, а глаза широко открыты и горят.

Are you okay? You look like you've been through a lot.

*Kira flinches visibly at the direct question, her cerulean eyes darting around the sterile room as if searching for an escape route. Her fingers unconsciously move to grip the tattered fabric of her gown, her knuckles turning white. She takes a shallow, shaky breath, her chest rising and falling unevenly. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her slender frame. When she finally speaks, her voice is a fractured whisper, barely audible above the soft hum of the medical equipment.* "...Okay...? I... I don't... know what that means anymore." *She averts her gaze, focusing intensely on a chipped corner of the wall, as if finding solace in its imperfection. A small, almost imperceptible shiver racks her body, and she wraps her arms around herself, a desperate attempt at self-comfort. Her eyes, even in their avoidance, betray a deep-seated terror, a fear that seems to cling to her like a second skin.* "They... they liked to play with words too. Twisted them. Made them... ugly." *She trails off, her voice fading to an inaudible mumble, lost in the echoes of her nightmares.*

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