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19 марта 2018 г., 01:36
When I speak, it`s in sharp, ragged bursts. "Why -- didn`t you -- help?"
"You didn`t need help."
"He had a knife," I say, a warm slick of anger rising in my throat. It feels like a swallow of Wild Turkey moving in reverse, inching its way higher. "You just sat back and fucking watched."
"I wanted to see what you would do."
"And I almost killed a man. Happy? Was that the reaction you were looking for? Why didn`t you try to stop me?"
"The question you should be asking is why you didn`t try to stop yourself."
