wrathconsumed

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Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh

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[ THE PIECES OF PAPER FALL. WE SLOWLY PASS OVER THEM ALL, FOCUSING ON EACH IMPORTANT FAMILY MEMBER OF ONE KARUNA TIWARI. ]

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i hate you for what you did and i miss you like a little kid

sometimes when you close your eyes, you are still in your father's office, and he is still smiling at you.

1. excerpts from unit 001, viraaah // 2. clytemnestra, the martha graham dance company // 3. vanishing acts, jodi picoult // 4. ojibwa // 5. motion sickness, phoebe bridgers // 6. "poem in pieces, a log" adrianne kalfopoulou // 7. woodtangle, mary ruefle // 8. YOU’RE BURNED INTO MY SOUL YET I STILL GRIEVE FOR YOU IN MY BONES | j.d. // 9. the vacuum, howard nemerov // 10. unknown // 11. aristoltle and dante discover the secrets of the universe, benjamin alire sáenz

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[ WE DO NOT FOLLOW KARUNA AFTER SHE MOVES FROM THE DESK; INSTEAD, WE LINGER ON THE POLAROID --- AND ON THE ADDRESS WRITTEN UPON AN ENVELOPE. AN ADDRESS THAT APPEARED IN DOCUMENTS VINCENT GAVE HER ALL THOSE MONTHS AGO. ]

the photograph, taken in the dark, is focused on the staircase of the mansion. but in the bottom right corner, a slightly blurred figure descends the stairs. at first glance, the figure is unrecognizable. but those who would know the person well would spy the telltale fashion and the figure's movement, all captured in frame. and on the edge, in her neat, tight scrawl: with love, from karuna tiwari.

the threat lingers. but it isn't a warning. it is an admission. the recipient will know that what's to come was committed by her hands.

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[ WE WATCH THE PROCESSION OF TRIAL PARTICIPANTS ENTER THE SCENE, AND KARUNA -- NEITHER FIRST OR LAST -- WALKS WITH HEAD HELD HIGH AND GAZE STEADY FORWARD ]

karuna adorns the crystal-embellished lace jumpsuit and a floral-detailed tailored crepe blazer from cong tri; black dagger heels from paciotti; the dancing pearl stacked ring from marlo laz; the algadia, algamin, apex, rhizomus, and tendril earrings from lucas bauer, all in silver gold.

her hair is pulled into a low bun; nothing more intricate than pulling strands together in one sweep, allowing face framing pieces to fall gently into place. she lined kohl at the outer edges of her eyes, and she gently dabbed a deep purple lipstick on her lips and cheeks. out of sight, her switchblade rests within the inside pocket of her blazer.

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[ A SCENE MEANT TO BE LEFT ON THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR, SLIPS INTO THE VIEWING. WE KEEP THE FRAME ON KARUNA, SLOWLY ZOOMING IN AS SHE SPEAKS. ]

{ ✦ } Several items were found missing from THE TRAGEDY's quarters. Did you take anything that belonged to them? Did you see them in possession of anyone else?

“I’m afraid I can’t exactly visualize each item to know if anyone carries what once belonged to THE TRAGEDY.” She taps a finger against the arm of the chair, brows furrowing. Memory is slippery, fading to obscurity or supplementing what never existed in the first place. What was certain was the vial, solid in her hands whenever she extracted it from her purse — or within the small hole she cut underneath her dorm’s couch. The symbol caught her eye first, but it’s the substance within that drives her dreams. Was it poison Vincent meant to place on someone’s tongue? Was it him that sipped at it before he wandered to the chapel that fateful night? What secrets did it hide?

[ A NARRATOR'S VOICE ECHOES ]

You USED to have [THE VIAL]. But it slipped your pocket, somewhere at the MUSEUM. Perhaps poison was in it. Someone else has the vial now.

[ WE WIDEN THE SHOT TO A FAMILIAR FRAME: KARUNA TIWARI SITTING OPPOSITE THE DARK-HAIRED WOMAN. KARUNA WAITS, AND WAITS, AND WAITS. THIS IS NOT THE OTHER WOMAN'S SPACE TO COMMAND ---- IT IS HERS. ]

{ ✦ } Where did you last see THE TRAGEDY? Or when did you last hear of THE TRAGEDY?

‘Last hear of,’ not ‘last hear from.’ Strange, to already mark distance like that. Though she cannot comment on such things. The memory rattles around, begging for attention, asking over and over: was it him who reached out first, was it you that tugged on the string of a favor, did he know he set the domino that led you to the answers you so desperately sought? Not friends, but not strangers. Never too close, but always slipping in and out of each other’s orbit. It was her turn to reach out to him. They both knew this when all the participants were revealed. And reach for him she did — under moonlight drenching him in holiness, stained in crimson. A slow breath, an even exhale. Her voice remains clear and steady when she finally answers. “I last saw him in the Chapel. Dying — dead. I think I heard the last breath rattle in his lungs.” She pauses. “But perhaps that was the trick of my mind.”

{ ✦ } Where were you at time of death of THE TRAGEDY? And what were you doing?

“Running.” One truth. “I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to exhaust myself.” One lie. She brushes her hair from her face, with no hint of trembling hands. “I haven’t been back to Blue Ivy in years, so I’ve been bit by the curiosity of what’s changed since. I hadn’t yet explored the chapel, and I thought it would look — eerie, but serene.” Her tone’s almost wistful in its growing softness. A sharp contrast to the bitter lies slipping past her lips. “I didn’t know — I didn’t know anyone else was there.” But there was; it simply wasn’t the person she wanted there.  She closes her eyes for one breath, then another. The frustration claws at her throat, the sharp anger of a plan slipping through her fingers. But perhaps it was a blessing the night unraveled as it did. Perhaps fate would still lead her to close her hands around the throat of what consumed her.  When she opens her eyes, she shakes her head. “If I had known, the night would’ve gone differently.” For once, another truth. If she had known the chapel would’ve been preoccupied — she would’ve chosen a different location altogether.

{ ✦ } Who can attest to your alibi?

Karuna takes a quick breath. Hesitation finally grips her. She wasn’t the only one there. But she had little clue what Archer would actually confess. Too many choices set before her, and too many could be the wrong ones.  She rests back in the chair, allowing the silence to drag. Of course it would appear suspicious, and now was not the time to draw more eyes on her, but careful consideration required time. Her father taught her not to rush. If she didn’t follow his lessons now, then how could she honor him in life? Crossing her legs, Karuna meets the woman’s gaze again. “Archer Drake can testify. I found her, holding him.”

{ ✦ } The SOCIETY requires your verdict on THE TRAGEDY's demise: Was it the calculated hand of murder? The cruel whim of accident? Or the final, desperate act of self-annihilation?

“The cut was no accident.” Not when it was that deep, not when it was that awful. “But a question for you: is it self-annihilation when it’s the last choice you have? Or is it taking control on your terms rather than by the hands of someone who will murder you? Or — is it still murder at the end of it, no matter who committed the final cut?”  Karuna finally breaks her gaze, her eyes sweeping across the room. She already had her answer; it was determined when she opened the door to her father’s office.  “For simplicity’s sake — my verdict is murder.”

[wrathconsumed]

{ Mahmoud Darwish/ Virginia Woolf/ Edgar Allan Poe, from a Letter to Helen Whitman, "The Last Letters of Edgar Allan Poe to Sarah Helen Whitman"/ Albert Camus, The Possessed (transl. By O'Brien)/ Emily Dickinson/ Anton Chekhov, The Complete Works of Anton Chekhov "The Two Volodyas"/ Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes/ Louisa May Alcott, Little Women/ Yann Martel, Life of Pi/ Cameron Awkward-Rich, Meditations in an Emergency/ De profundis/ Oscar Wilde}

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Amita Suman for Vogue India.

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[ WE LINGER ON KARUNA'S OPEN SUITCASE AS SHE CHECKS THE ROOM FOR ANY RECORDING DEVICES. SHE PACKED WHAT SHE NEEDED AND NOTHING MORE. ]

a dagger, more decorative than usable --- a gift from bābā upon graduation from blue ivy / a tin can holding a sample size roja haute luxe perfume -- a gift from her mother / a journal, bloated from water damage, the contents a mess of notes about her father's debt, her debt, and draft upon draft of her will. the recent draft was dated on the day of the participants meeting. / a stiletto switchblade, 10 inches, tucked in a zipper pouch. it has since been removed to carry at all times / a smaller purse than the one slung over her shoulder / an accordion folder karuna flips through periodically, more routine than investigatory. one part holds a packet of notes and documents regarding [ REDACTED ] with a ripped piece of paper stapled on one of the pages. in vincent's cursive, it reads: the favor completed. will you ever let me know what this is really about?

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"Buried", Not a girl, Ashe Vernon//Death of Sappho (1881), Miguel Carbonell Selva//Vengeance is Sworn (1851), Francesco Hayez//Plainwater, Anne Carson//The Unequal Marriage (detail), Vasili Pukirev (editor unknown)//Vesuvius, Amber Sparks//Lady Snowblood 2: Love Song of Vengeance (1974), Toshiya Fujita//Furious, Jade Bird//Lady Snowblood (1973), dir. Toshiya Fujita//David Foster Wallace//Mitski//Ira V Simon//Candle Clock Aflame, Takato Yamamoto//Tjawangwa Dema//Emily Carey and Olivia Cooke as Alicent Hightower in House of the Dragon//safia elhillohome is not a country; “haitham”//Monstrous Flesh: On Women’s Bodies in Horror, Rebecca Harknis-Cross//Kill Bill vol.1 (2003), Quentin Tarantino

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“I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief.”

— C.S. Lewis (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[wrathconsumed]

[ WE WIDEN THE SHOT TO A FAMILIAR FRAME: KARUNA TIWARI SITTING OPPOSITE THE DARK-HAIRED WOMAN. KARUNA WAITS, AND WAITS, AND WAITS. THIS IS NOT THE OTHER WOMAN'S SPACE TO COMMAND ---- IT IS HERS. ]

{ ✦ } Where did you last see THE TRAGEDY? Or when did you last hear of THE TRAGEDY?

‘Last hear of,’ not ‘last hear from.’ Strange, to already mark distance like that. Though she cannot comment on such things. The memory rattles around, begging for attention, asking over and over: was it him who reached out first, was it you that tugged on the string of a favor, did he know he set the domino that led you to the answers you so desperately sought? Not friends, but not strangers. Never too close, but always slipping in and out of each other’s orbit. It was her turn to reach out to him. They both knew this when all the participants were revealed. And reach for him she did — under moonlight drenching him in holiness, stained in crimson. A slow breath, an even exhale. Her voice remains clear and steady when she finally answers. “I last saw him in the Chapel. Dying — dead. I think I heard the last breath rattle in his lungs.” She pauses. “But perhaps that was the trick of my mind.”

{ ✦ } Where were you at time of death of THE TRAGEDY? And what were you doing?

“Running.” One truth. “I couldn’t sleep, so I wanted to exhaust myself.” One lie. She brushes her hair from her face, with no hint of trembling hands. “I haven’t been back to Blue Ivy in years, so I’ve been bit by the curiosity of what’s changed since. I hadn’t yet explored the chapel, and I thought it would look — eerie, but serene.” Her tone’s almost wistful in its growing softness. A sharp contrast to the bitter lies slipping past her lips. “I didn’t know — I didn’t know anyone else was there.” But there was; it simply wasn’t the person she wanted there.  She closes her eyes for one breath, then another. The frustration claws at her throat, the sharp anger of a plan slipping through her fingers. But perhaps it was a blessing the night unraveled as it did. Perhaps fate would still lead her to close her hands around the throat of what consumed her.  When she opens her eyes, she shakes her head. “If I had known, the night would’ve gone differently.” For once, another truth. If she had known the chapel would’ve been preoccupied — she would’ve chosen a different location altogether.

{ ✦ } Who can attest to your alibi?

Karuna takes a quick breath. Hesitation finally grips her. She wasn’t the only one there. But she had little clue what Archer would actually confess. Too many choices set before her, and too many could be the wrong ones.  She rests back in the chair, allowing the silence to drag. Of course it would appear suspicious, and now was not the time to draw more eyes on her, but careful consideration required time. Her father taught her not to rush. If she didn’t follow his lessons now, then how could she honor him in life? Crossing her legs, Karuna meets the woman’s gaze again. “Archer Drake can testify. I found her, holding him.”

{ ✦ } The SOCIETY requires your verdict on THE TRAGEDY's demise: Was it the calculated hand of murder? The cruel whim of accident? Or the final, desperate act of self-annihilation?

“The cut was no accident.” Not when it was that deep, not when it was that awful. “But a question for you: is it self-annihilation when it’s the last choice you have? Or is it taking control on your terms rather than by the hands of someone who will murder you? Or — is it still murder at the end of it, no matter who committed the final cut?”  Karuna finally breaks her gaze, her eyes sweeping across the room. She already had her answer; it was determined when she opened the door to her father’s office.  “For simplicity’s sake — my verdict is murder.”

[wrathconsumed]

[ WE ZOOM OVER KARUNA TIWARI'S SHOULDER, WATCHING THE MESSAGES FORMING DESPITE THE ARDUOUS FLIP PHONE. SHE DOES HANDLE IT WITH A DEFT HAND --- AS IF SHE HAD USED ONE AS A CHILD. ]

> sent to: R. T. ( auntie rajani tiwari )

New number. I'm doing okay. Please let me know when the deal is finally signed, I want that squared away.

> sent to: S. O. ( sarai odena / @eternaladagio )

Bold to ask that you and Nicolai speak in private in front of the group.

> sent to: M. AV. ( mazen ashraf-verhoeven / @serpcntiine )

How are you feeling after all of that?

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[ WE PAN TO KARUNA TIWARI, HANDS FOLDED OVER HER LAP, STARING INTO THE CAMERA. THE WOMAN ACROSS FROM HER SLIDES THE NOTE-CARD ACROSS THE TABLE. ]

Karuna was an echo of her bābā at his most casual—dressed in a navy long sleeved shirt, her long hair pushed behind her shoulders, her nails short, trimmed. The difference emerged in the blankness of her face. She could command a room, just like him, if she ever wielded his charisma. 

The recording device blinked red. She cleared her throat and bowed her head, beginning to read.

“I, Karuna Tiwari, willingly accept my invitation into the Trial of Hearts.” 

Her voice was unwavering. Still, a stuttering breath. Anticipation for the completion. One word after another, that much closer to the prize she so desperately desires.

“I enter with full understanding that this is a game of absolutes: high risk, high reward. I acknowledge that the Trial of Hearts may result in injury—physically, emotional, or psychological—and by speaking these words, I seal my fate.”

Perhaps her fate would always be tied to what wounded her. How many scars rippled through her memory? How many more would she gain? And yet — the worst had already happened. What could these trials ever do that could amount to pushing open the door to her bābā’s study? 

Karuna swallowed. 

“By continuing, I forfeit any right to retreat or regret.” 

To look back would deepen the wound. To lose this chance would kill her. 

“I accept that only one will rise victorious” — Raising her head Karuna stared right into the eyes of the woman across, gaze burning determined ( gaze burning desperate ) —“and I declare myself worthy of that title.”

[wrathconsumed]

karuna tiwari / the vigilante / her fate would always be tied to what wounded her.