Original subtitles

Can you remove my blindfold, please?

Can you remove my blindfold, please?

Not yet!

Where are you taking me?

- Where are you taking me? - Shut up!

Closet Land

Tell me if you need anything else. I'm leaving in 10 minutes.

Let me see... I think I have everything.

Where am I?

Here.

Who are you?

May I speak to the officer in charge, please?

I am the officer in charge.

Where are you?

Here. To your right.

And vice versa, your vices are my verses, and versa vice.

Remove my blindfold and these handcuffs, please.

I'm going to call my lawyer. I was dragged out of bed...

All right. Don't worry. We'll look into it.

I won't be needing you anymore.

I'm going straight to the sauna, there is nothing like it after this shit.

Bon nuit. (Good night)

Where are you? Have you gone away, too?

I'm here, right by your side.

Did I scare you? Sorry.

Just a minute. I'll turn the lights on.

Let's get this blindfold off.

Why and when was I brought here?

Which day is it?

A next day. A night, actually.

I was brought here last night.

I think it was last night. Sometimes, it seems like...

...two nights back, two weeks even. - No.

They brought you here last night.

Are you the officer in charge?

They came to my house when I was in bed. One man held a gun to my head

and handcuffed me. The other blindfolded and gagged me.

They dragged me out of my own home.

On the way here, they slapped me, spat on me...

...pulled my hair, twisted my arms,

pinched my legs, and left me standing in a narrow cold room...

no bigger than a... ...a closet.

Given no warrant for my arrest.

I've been denied access to my lawyer, to anyone else outside.

Why am I here?

It says here that you're a writer of children's fiction.

Do you do any other kind of writing?

Like what?

- Political, for instance. - No.

- I'm really quite ignorant about politics. - Good.

I mean, it's better to have no ideas than half-baked ones.

Too, you're not a member of any underground group or anything?

No.

- Are your stories political? - I write for 7-year-olds and 8-year-olds!

So? Children make the best receptacles for propaganda.

"You can do anything with a child as long as you play with him."

- Who said that? - Bismarck.

This is ridiculous.

Well...

...maybe we made a mistake.

Doesn't happen often, but sometimes...

If they've had too much to drink, maybe they took a wrong turn.

"They took the wrong turn"?

My sincere apologies.

You may leave.

Maybe you should wait for the official apology.

What's that?

To letter from the head of this department, apologizing for our mistake.

How long will that take?

No time at all.

You interrogated me like a common criminal,

knowing full well you owed me an apology?!

It's procedure. We can never be too sure.

No, no, I insist. I'm used to this place.

I last saw you about two years ago, I think.

You were signing autographs at the Third Street bookstore. I forget what it is...

Sorry, but I'm really not in the mood for conversation.

You think your apology letter's enough?!

I'm going to press charge, against him especially.

You're going to press what, against whom?

I said that I...

I'm going to make a complaint against him.

The one that was here. Didn't get to see him, but I know his voice.

- What did it sound like? - A chocked gutter.

"Man with a voice...

...like a chocked gutter."

What did he do?

Did he rape you?

No.

He just fondled you? Is that it?

Yes.

That's strange.

None of our female prisoners have made that complaint.

Our men don't do that. They're strictly professional.

I'm not lying.

- I'm sure you're not, but maybe you imagined it. - No!

After one day in prison, you are ranting and

raving about having been here two weeks. Is it why you are

such a good writer? Imagination. - No, I have his nail-marks all over...

Can I see them?

Let a doctor examine me.

All right. Don't worry.

We'll look into it.

Some more broth?

It's got rum in it.

Warms you up, doesn't it?

Listen. How long will the letter be?

- What letter? - The apo...

- The apology letter. - Oh, that.

- You had it all along? - Yes.

- What game are you playing? - I'm not playing games.

- But you kept me here, waiting for it! - Now you're imagining things again!

You decided to wait. Didn't I tell you I had the letter?

This is a mess.

Drunken soldiers, hallucinating senior officers.

You really should watch what you're saying, you know.

Walls have ears.

Open the door!

I have the apology letter! Open up, please!

Might as well stay warm!

It could be a long time before you.

I must call my lawyer. I must call my lawyer.

What is that?

Why didn't you leave when you could?

You cannot call your lawyer or anyone else outside.

You must put your trust in us.

I am a small part of a large mechanism,

that goes for you, too, but together we may seek at the truth.

I will help you to the best of my ability,

but the brunt of the responsibility lies with you.

Deliberate deceit will not be tolerated,

although personally, I may find your lies charming.

Inadvertent blunders will be treated with firm kindness,

and you must trust me to decide the ratio of firmness to kindness.

Your best hope would be to depersonalize what follows,

and not to look upon me as a foe or yourself as a victim.

Remember, we are both seekers of truth,

and in this quest, I am your friend,

philosopher and guide.

"The Cow who Learned to Fly"

"The Treasure Trove"

"The Cat With Green Wings"

Heavy-duty political stuff, huh?

No, you're right. These stories are innocuous.

I told you you're making a terrible mistake.

No, that's not possible.

Are you infallible?

Not me, personally.

I'm going... Maybe I'm at fault, really. I'm not looking hard enough,

you can't have been arrested for nothing.

Are you going to concoct something to justify my arrest?

Closet Land

It hasn't been published yet, I'm still working on it. Where did you get this?

You had my home search, didn't you?

- Tell me about it. - Why don't you read it?

It is interesting to hear writers talk about their work.

- Hidden meanings surface... - When you write for children,

you pretty much have to be direct, there's no room for hidden meanings.

Children are remarkably subtle creatures.

My stories are harmless, cheerful.

Pieces of fluff, they have no more depth than cotton candy.

Did you wreck my house?

Don't worry, it's fine.

They even cleaned your house before they left.

There was some blood on the toilet seat.

- Are you menstruating now? - None of your business!

Thought not.

You see?

It's easier if you answer my questions, isn't it?

You're in good health?

Do you have any physical condition I should know about?

Are you on any medication?

You answer my questions like a good little girl,

and I promise I never do that again.

Don't call me good little girl!

I'm still waiting for the artist to speak about her work.

Closet Land is about a child, who is locked in a closet all day by her mother.

Little girl fantasizes that the clothes are her imaginary friends.

They all have wonderful parties in this closet,

this child and her friends,

and it becomes a sunny meadow strewn

with wild strawberries and beautiful flowers.

When it's time for her mother to return from work,

the Friendly Rooster, which is actually a scarf with a rooster design,

warns the little girl and her friends by crowing loudly.

The clothes all go back to their hangers,

and the child sits, quiet as a mouse, waiting for her mother to let her out.

It's a curious story.

Very different from "The Flying Cow" and "The Cat With Green Wings."

Were you a lonely child?

- No brothers or sisters? - No, just my mother and me.

But your mother didn't pay you much attention.

Well, she didn't mean not to, she was just busy with her work

and her sunday literary groups.

You're still lonely, aren't you?

I don't trust lonely people.

Life's eternal spectators.

Watching.

Waiting.

- Were you afraid of your mother? - No.

- We had a good relationship. - Well, yes.

You were with her at her bedside, when she died last year.

- What? - Where you accused her of not noticing.

I've done what you asked, mama. I've done all I could.

I've been there for you but you've never been there for me.

You never noticed. Just never noticed.

And then you stormed out of the hospital.

- That night your mother died. Never noticed what? - You've been spying

on me, haven't you?! Since last year, maybe even before! Why?!

Why have my private conversations been taped?!

I wasn't dragged here by mistake. It is all part of some plan, isn't it?!

All conversations in all hospital rooms are taped without exception.

We gain access to confessions, guilts, longings, you name it, that we wouldn't

otherwise be privy to. Most of it is sentimental drivel and is destroyed,

but the conversations between writers, artists, political activists,

these are never destroyed.

Government policy.

Now...

...tell me...

What did your mother not notice?

What did your mother not notice?

Don't make a fuss.

Come on, it was just a tap. Don't make a fuss.

- Some people have their eyes burnt with cigarettes. - No, what you're going to...?

I don't smoke.

It'll pass.

Put your head on your knees.

Cover your ears lightly.

Better?

Shall we go on?

I need some water, please.

If you answer my questions. What did your mother not notice?

Mothers and daughters fight once in a while.

And when it's over, you can't remember what it is about.

Don't hit me.

Oh, don't worry. It'll come back.

Let's talk about Closet Land instead.

The child's locked in the closet by her mother,

imagines that the clothes are her friends and plays with them,

and the Friendly Rooster warns them that the mother is on her way back.

The clothes go back to the racks and the child waits to be let free. Is that it?

Yes.

Why was the child locked in the closet?

I don't know. I never thought about it.

Think now.

Maybe she ate too much cake

or spilled water-colours on her mother's best dress.

And for this, a child gets locked up in a closet?

That's a bit extreme, isn't it?

Closet Land is a place where people go for secret meetings!

Remember, the clothes don't come alive until the child is alone with them!

When the Friendly Rooster, who is on the lookout,

gives the warning cry, they scatter and run away!

And when the mother comes back, she can't find anything!

You've made the child a martyr and the mother a tyrant!

Your sympathies are with the child, of course, because you resent any authority!

- Do you object to my interpretation? - No.

But that's all it is. Your interpretation.

I can't control the messages people choose to find in my stories.

There're people get turned on by passages in the Bible.

Closet Land is a simple children story.

It's not a simple word.

Just think...

Skeletons rattling in the closet.

It is a place where people hide, you say: "closet homosexual, closet intellectual".

It's a dark, secret word.

Like the basement or space under the bed at night.

All children's stories have an element of horror in them.

Wicked dragons, evil witches. I chose an everyday object.

A closet instead of a fantasy creature. That's the only difference.

Children's authors aren't political creatures

because children aren't!

Politics means big things!

Anyone who knows children knows that they live for themselves and the present moment!

But children can be taught to find themselves and the present moment within an ideology!

They're far more receptive to suggestion than adults,

and that's what you tried to do with the story.

- You are guilty of subliminal indoctrination! - That's absurd!

- So, you don't support the dissidents? - No.

- You're not the member of the underground? - No. I'm not a political person!

Do you support us, then? Have you supported what we've done for peace,

for order, for stability? - I told you I know nothing about politics!

I thought you didn't smoke.

This is my first.

Who commissioned you to write the story? Where is Closet Land? Who are the clothes

that come alive in the story? We already have two turn-coats in custody.

The kindergarten teacher and the physicist.

Who is the Friendly Rooster? How does he know when "Mother" will come?

Is he in the government? We have a few suspicions.

You're not one of those anti-smoking activists, are you?

There.

You see, there was no need for that.

You'll know if I'm going to hurt you.

It's the suspense, not the pain, that'll drive you mad.

You've changed.

Here.

- More? - You said you'd tell me.

Never trust strangers. Didn't your mother tell you that?

No, she never did! I have... I have to rinse my mouth.

Sign this!

"I confess that my story, Closet Land, is an allegory

for the struggles of the various underground groups that are resisting

the government. The child- -protagonist of the story

stands for the uninformed reader, whose views I wish to mold.

I have consciously represented governmental authority

in the character of the mother, and the clothes are all underground insurgents.

The Friendly Rooster is a government official."

- I can't sign that. - Why?

It's a pack of lies!

I won't confess to a pack of lies, and even if I do confess to this,

how do I know it'll stop here?

There'll be others, more lies, won't there?

The Closet-Child knew that she'd missed her chance,

when she could have opened the door and glided out.

Whatever can the poor Closet-Child do?

Bad man gives her nothing to drink.

She is so parched that she'd even drink the urine he offered her. So...

The Closet-Child did what all Closet- -Children do when they're trapped.

She shut her eyes hard

and pretended that she could glide out of Hell.

She knew there was a Passage of Brightness right outside Hell,

and that the elves had left a large pitcher

of fresh dew, just for her.

So, she pretended...

...that she was out in the Passage, out drinking dew,

out of Hell.

There has been estimated that 96.8% of all women

who favour black underwear are the closet-whores.

It has been estimated that 97.3% of all women

who favour black underwear are closet-whores.

It has been estimated that 99, 10% of all women

who favour black underwear are closet-whores.

Do you know that a 105.9% of all women

who favour black underwear are closet-whores?

Uh-oh, You can't hide from us, precious.

Why don't you give up?

The doors here don't open. But didn't you know that?

Doors lead in, doors lead out.

Doors no wider than a little girl's hat.

Doors lead out, doors lead in.

Doors no bigger than a little girl's chin.

Give me my clothes!

Sign the confession or suck my dick. Which do you please, you tease?

By the way. When was the last time?

Our Friendly Neighborhood Sex-watch says

your last time was when you fucked... ha ha...

...tried to fuck... some guy two years ago.

Stop it, stop it!

Even fossils show more signs of life, dear heart.

But you're worse than a fossil.

You are frigid. We know, we've seen you at action.

You can't do it, can you?

You are not normal. You are warped.

You are sick. You are bad.

You've always been bad.

That's why your mother didn't notice. That's why men don't want you.

Who wants a cold, unresponsive whore?

All they want to do slam the door and leave.

All they want to do slam the door and leave.

Step up in front of the image, please.

Step up in front of the image, please.

You are hereby accused of conspiracy against your country

and against peace, order and stability.

Your story, Closet Land, is thinly-veiled propaganda

designed to stir dissent in the hearts of children.

All official avenues of redress have been sealed.

Your Rights have been suspended.

The short term goal is to have you sign the confession.

And the long-term goal... ...that will depend...

...on the success of the short term goal.

You do not merit a name or identity.

You are henceforth be referred to by a number:

AB234.

Oh-leh.

What went on here?

Where are your clothes? What's all this paint on your face?

Maybe your boys got bored and wanted some fun.

We are not allowed to subject anyone to any harassment

outside the context of standard interrogation.

I'm sorry. I'll look into it.

Want some broth?

No.

Someone else will take over now.

I'd advise you to be straight with him, he is not very patient.

But don't worry.

You'll be fine.

No! No blindfold, please!

- Are you scared of the dark? - It feels like...

It feels what?

Why don't you question me? I don't want this other man.

- We work in shifts. - Why do I have to be blindfolded?

Because he's an undercover officer. And we can't run the risk of your

identifying him later. - I won't say anything. I promise.

Relax. I have to do this. I don't want to use force.

They're watching me, too.

- Prisoner AB234. - Chocked gutter.

Who is the Friendly Rooster?

When the clock struck five,

the Friendly Rooster awoke from his nap.

Mommie would be coming back from work.

The Closet-Child was playing with the Overcoat

and his children, the Mittens.

Friendly Rooster shook his feathers.

He must warn them before mommie arrives.

Who is the Friendly Rooster, AB234?

He is just a character of my story.

Stupid cow!

Tell the truth!

I don't know.

I don't know.

You didn't want me, did you, huh?

You wanted that other guy.

I heard you telling him.

"Don't go."

"You question me."

I saw that in a movie once.

So you do not know who the Friendly Rooster is?

No!

Prisoner XYZ!

- Do you recognize this woman here? - Yes, your excellency.

And who is she, prisoner XYZ?

She is in charge of our child propaganda division, your grace.

He's lying! I don't know who he is.

What are the aims of your group, prisoner XYZ?

- We are planning to overthrow the government, your honour. - Liar! Who are you?

Yeah. Answer her, prisoner XYZ. Who are you?

What was your code name?

I was called...

...the Friendly Rooster, your virtuosity.

He's lying.

You've heard that your fellow rebel said?

- That's not true! I don't know... - Shut up!

- You have been brought here, because you're guilty! - I am innocent!

Even if you are you'll be guilty before you leave!

But don't leave just yet, prisoner AB234.

Just yet there's plenty more to come.

We're gonna have a barbecue, okay?

No, your highness! No, not a barbecue, your pulchritude! Please!

What I am doing, prisoner AB234,

I'm inserting a red-hot skewer

into the Friendly Rooster's ass.

We line up roast chicken in a minute.

And then I'm gonna pluck out his fingernails with a pair of pliers

as just as his toes last week.

The tuffest part is getting a good grip.

But once you have the nails steady and firm then, you just tug.

And keep tugging, never mind him, keep tugging,

until you hear a crack and the nail is on its way out.

And these pink flesh underneath.

Pink as a baby's ass.

Like yours, AB234...

...before the innocence have gone...

...before you knew the world...

...a man's touch.

Wolf-whistles.

You must have been a pretty child.

- He's gone. - Are you all right?

Oh, yeah.

Thanks for asking.

I've been done so often my skin thickened.

The first time's the worst. It burns so much you feel like you're in hell.

- Where are you? - Over here, to your right.

I mean to your left. I forgot your right for my left and vice versa.

Your versas are my vices and versa vice...

Why did you lie about me?

I'm the resident witness.

They drag me up when they want to incriminate someone.

I used to resist, not anymore.

- Have you been barbecued yet? - No.

- What have they tried on you? Cat's cradle, arabesque? - What are they?

Don't even think about that. Not even when it's happening to you.

Think of something else. You've got something pleasant you can

think about? - The cat with green wings.

Well, think about that, whatever that is.

Take your mind right away from what they're doing to you.

Have you ever done that before?

When I was a little girl. The closet my stories came to...

He will be coming for me soon.

Listen...

...there's another man here.

He is a different sort for a place like this.

- Yes, he questioned me first. - He did?

Why didn't you beg for mercy? That's all he wants.

He could've let you go.

He's not so bad, really.

He used to be a professor

of some sort before they got him.

He plays the piano.

They're coming.

Listen, if he comes to question you again...

...throw yourself at his feet.

It's your only hope.

Goodbye.

Hello.

Hello.

Help me! Please!

I'm innocent, please.

I beg of you! Let me go.

Please.

I don't like all this, you know.

I tell myself: It's just a job, and then in my dreams these words...

...float by.

"Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace

To look through and behind this mask of me,

Against which, years have beat thus blanchingly, with their rains,

and behold my soul's true face..."

Seems so long ago...

...my soul's true face.

You know what I'm going to do?

I don't care who's watching me.

I'm going to open that door...

...let you walk away...

...into the night.

What's up?

Nothing. Nothing.

Good.

Let's get these handcuff off, then.

Keys.

Where are the handcuff keys?

You have no right to make joke of this!

Our aim is to rid society of negative influences.

Our aim justifies the use of certain unorthodox means.

Your aim is to humiliate and debace the human being!

- There is no justification for cruelty! - Our aim...

...is to rid society of negative influences.

Our aim justifies the use of certain unorthodox means.

Your aim is to humiliate and debace the human being!

There is no justification for cruelty!

Your aim is to humiliate and debace the human being!

There is no justification for cruelty!

- There is no justification for cruelty! - Our aim...

...is to rid society of negative influences.

There is no justification for cruelty of any kind...

Are you in good health?

Do you have any physical condition that I should know about?

Are you on any medication?

Do you know...

...that 97.5% of women who wear black underwear

are closet whores?

Think about something pleasant to take your mind off what they're doing to you.

Friendly Rooster, for instance.

He wakes up only once at night. He sleeps like a baby.

But he looks like... They look like angels, don't you think?

And then they grow up and then nothing but heartache.

- Aren't you trying for a girl? - May I have liked two.

But my wife says she went through the hell.

- They always do. - Give her time. A couple of years.

My daughter swore she'd never have another. She's three months pregnant.

We're giving him fruit now. It was hard first but he is getting taste it

Go easy, though you don't wanna give him diarrhea.

I still remember when my daughter first discovered bananas.

- I miss him when I'm away. - Yeah. - He misses me, too.

- When I come home he smiles. - Yeah. - He looks like a little monkey.

The night supervisor asked me to work next weekend, but I said no.

Yeah, I remember what he said.

"In a few years you'll do anything to get away."

We must break your body to win your mind.

Pain ennobles both the giver and the receiver.

Discipline will remain government policy as long as you resist.

Resistance is foolish...

...which is why we must break your body to win your mind.

We must break your body to win your mind.

When was I brought here?

When do you think?

It feels like two months...

...years, two lifetimes.

- Two life times. - What?

We brought you here two life times ago.

No, I'm joking. You've only been here two years.

Two years?

Two years in this closet.

Yes, and your mother died last week.

We took you to the hospital, but...

- She never noticed. - You liar.

Mama died last year. I was brought here last night.

We're going to play a game.

You respond to my questions with the first word that comes to your mind. It's called: touchdown.

Touchdown.

Closet.

Dark.

Stories.

Closet.

- Did you write your stories in the closet? - No.

- So? - My stories come from the closet.

Mother.

Nowhere.

- And she died last year. - No personal observations, please.

Sex.

Pain.

Politics.

Politics.

- Politics. - None.

Government.

Abuse.

- Government. - Carrying, loving, just.

- Mind. - Government property.

- Opposition. - Futile.

- Sleep. - Death.

No. I meant go to sleep.

Sleep is death.

We must break your body to win your mind.

Pain ennobles both the giver and the receiver.

Discipline will remain government policy as long as you resist.

Resistance is foolish. Which is why...

Sleep is death.

Sleep is death.

We must break your body to win your mind.

Pain ennobles...

Sleep is death.

Sleep is death.

Discipline will remain government policy as long as you resist.

Resistance is foolish which is why...

Are you like me?

We must break your body to win your mind.

Pain ennobles both the giver and the receiver.

Discipline will remain government policy...

I'm not alone.

...as long as you resist. Resistance is foolish...

Keep whistling.

We must break your body...

Keep whistling.

Keep whistling.

Pain ennobles both the giver and the receiver.

Discipline will remain government policy...

Sleep is death.

Resistance is foolish...

Pain will only strengthen my will.

You can break my body, but you cannot break my mind.

Torture is the policy of tyrants.

Resistance is my only weapon.

You can break my body, but you cannot break my mind.

Pain will only strengthen my will.

Torture is the policy of tyrants.

Resistance is my only weapon.

You can break my body, but you cannot break my mind.

Pain will only temper my will.

Torture is the policy of tyrants.

Pain will only strengthen my will.

Torture is the policy of tyrants.

They tell me you're being stubborn.

You should sleep, you know.

- Listen to the tape and fall asleep. - Sleep is death.

Well, it's a waiting game, then.

You've been here two months, sooner or later, you will fall asleep.

- I was brought here last night. - Just think...

...two months without sleep.

Sixty days.

1440 hours.

You're lying. They brought me here last night.

- Why should I lie about this? - To confuse me.

To break my will, sometimes you lie. For the hell of it.

Do your eyes hurt?

Relax.

Let your shoulders light.

Rest your neck.

Let that roll easily against your chair.

Don't resist.

Your muscles are stiff by tension.

Release that.

Let them flow like gentle stream,

like distant sea.

We must break your body to win your mind.

Pain ennobles both the giver and the receiver.

Discipline will remain government policy as long as you resist.

You can break my body but you can't break my mind.

Will you sign this?

No.

- You are forcing me. - To do what?

Things I don't want to do.

Doesn't that bother you to see someone stretched out in front of you?

Aren't you worried that this is your job,

that you do it without question?

Most men go to work in offices and factories and you come here instead.

What made you this way?

Is it what they did to you?

Or is it a hidden sickness?

Some inner decay?

Resistance is foolish which is why

we must break your body to win your mind.

You can break my body but you can't break my mind.

You can break my body but you can't break my mind!

Right! Right!

Haven't you had enough?

Why don't you just sign? Come on, give me break.

No.

What's that?

No.

That's what I thought you said.

Why do you refuse? It is such a small thing.

Just a signature.

Think of it as an autograph...

...to a secret admirer.

No.

Thank you.

Children have to be taught a firm lesson.

My God.

It's a closet land. A flying cow.

The cat with green wings and friendly roos... Whistle for me, please!

Whistle!

The closet. The closet. There is no pain in Closet Land.

When your head aches, a mushroom...

Whistle for me, please!

You don't answer...

Your toe-nails hurt?! Poor child!

Get the cow, the cat with green wings!

I got to the home of the cat. The cat with green wings.

I got away. I got away.

I got away. It's a closet land.

Where is closet land?

It's in my mind.

You can break my body but you can't break my mind.

As long as I can go to closet land, all you have are my bones.

- Who lives there? - My friends.

A flying cow.

A friendly rooster. A cat with green wings.

I knew them since I was a child. I'd close my eyes thight...

And I go away and they come to me.

Floating in the air.

Why were you in the closet?

A man...

Mama's friend...

...he used to have breakfast on Sunday.

I take the coats and scarves and hang them up in the closet.

And that's when he...

When I was in the closet, hanging up his coat,

that's when it first happened.

He used to smile after it was over, like it was a secret between us.

I was five.

- Your mother never noticed? - No.

No. She never noticed, poor mama. Trusting, foolish mama.

Striding around.

I was too scared to tell... The man. He said:

He would cut away my tongue and chop off my head.

So every Sunday, when he came...

...and visited I'd go to the closet...

...and I'd wait for him.

I'd shut my eyes tight...

...the church bells used to ring...

...and my friends came to me. The flying cow.

The cat with green wings.

I was even able to forget that he was there with his hands under my dress.

I wonder...

...if you know, really know...

...the strength of your mind.

Most people break down in a matter of hours...

...and you've escaped from us...

...on the back of a flying cow...

...and a cat with wings.

You're a strange and uniqe case...

...AB234.

We must go to closet land.

You're back in your mother's closet, AB234.

You're back in your mother's closet, AB234.

It's dark. You can't see a thing.

It's dark. You can't see a thing.

And you closed your eyes anyway, because you can hear his footsteps.

You're back in your mother's closet, AB234.

I know you like it, little creep.

Only five. And the eyes of a whore.

Dear child, sweet, loyal child.

I know you like it, little creep.

Only five. And the eyes of a whore.

Dear child, dear child, sweet, loyal child.

Here comes the candle to light you to bed.

And here comes the chopper to chop off your head.

It's you.

Scream.

Scream.

Scream.

You won't scream. You never did, not even then.

Such a knowing look in such young eyes.

What made you this way?

Some hidden streak? An inner sickness?

You had no hips then.

Tiny ribs like a sparrow's bones.

I could've broken them all with one rough caress.

Sugarplum heart, beating wildly in its cage.

Everything so small, so perfect.

You took away my innocence, too.

But when you grew up and had other lovers

and when they touched you and breathed your name

you froze and thought of me.

"Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace

To see through and behind this mask of me,

Against which, years have beat thus blanchingly, with their rains,

and behold my soul's true face..."

My soul's true face.

Why?

Why?!

Is that why you have brought me here?

To finish what you started when I was a child?

You are here as a dissident, you're part of the tribe that thinks too much.

- If you'd continued writing about flying pigs... - Cows.

Cows.

About flying cows and winged cats, you'd have been safe,

but then we found Closet Land.

And when I'm back, right start it, won't they?

I invented closet land when you abused a child

and being punished now after all these years

because I created closet land.

This must have been going on here for ages, right? I mean...

The sudden intrusions at night. Always at night I suppose, and the arrest.

Senseless charges...

...and brutality. I never knew...

...or else I didn't wanna, I didn't wanna see.

I shut my eyes like I did in the closet.

That woman down the street...

...a journalist.

About a couple of months ago she disappeared. Vanished.

The maid said so. And we all went on with our lives.

I remember going to lunch with my publisher.

And here is this woman, someone I never really knew,

I'd seen on the street, said hello to even. Just gone.

They he came for her mother next.

An 80-year-old, toothless invalid.

Some men were searching this missing journalist's house

while her mother set outside on the street like trash,

waiting to be picked up. We all passed her on the way to work.

I know I did.

And the old woman looked at me, in the eye, I looked back, but I didn't see.

None of us did.

We just didn't notice.

Like my mama.

It seems to be the same thing, really.

Shutting a child in a closet, and shutting a people away.

If you can frighten a child into silence, you can frighten a people, too...

...and with time, they'll shut their eyes and not scream.

I never screamed in the closet, did I?

And the people won't scream either.

They will go around pretending everything's fine, everything's all right,

while their neighbours disappear all around them.

And then they will become like children...

Scared of bad men, the chopper that'll chop off their heads.

That's what's so terrifying because...

...children are so powerless.

And make such easy victims.

Such easy victims.

If I told you...

...that this is your last chance...

...that everything is at stake.

Everything.

Would you sign?

How do you shut a mind?

They cut out his tongue but he found a way he whistled.

Then they found a way, that's why he couldn't whistle to you!

Today, one little injection. He was a physicist! Look at him now!

Not a care in the world! Not a thought in his head!

And look at his eyes!

His empty, empty eyes!

It's all of pack of lies, anyway, so sign it!

What do you care? It's just a pack of lies!

"Today, over half the world's governments continue to use

torture against their own citizens." Amnesty International report, 1990

"For I can see that in the midst of death life persists,

in the midst of untruth truth persists, in the midst of

darkness light persists..." Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi