Dread Page #5

What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?

What is your strongest memory

of feeling fear?

My life is a labyrinth.

A map of its complexities is etched

on my face in 1,000 tiny expressions.

Waking up at night...

Thank you.

What's your strongest memory?

There is an answer in what we're doing,

a remedy that no f***ing medication

or quack therapy could ever compete with.

Potentially losing my mother.

Sometimes I get discouraged.

- That's bad.

- See, everybody's like that.

Maybe I'm not being clear enough.

Maybe I need to be honest with you

and tell you what I want.

What is it that you want?

I want your soul to open up for me.

Spread-eagled like a split beaver

so that I can gaze into its secrets.

Last one. I got some beer and sh*t,

but we really gotta cram the night

if we wanna get everything done.

- How many did you get?

- Six-pack.

You can't really have one.

They're all six for me.

Come on, give me a beer.

I'll be downstairs.

I'm gonna get set up, all right?

I was confined to a house

for the better part of 20 years.

It was my mother's house.

I was professionally diagnosed

with agoraphobia.

So, you would never leave the house.

How did you do anything

like get food or toilet paper?

Well, I was completely dependent

on my mother,

and I had developed a severe hatred for her.

She was the cause

of everything horrible in my life,

but she was my only friend.

She died when I was 21. Heart attack.

I never told anyone.

I didn't call anyone. I never had. I couldn't.

About three weeks later,

the neighbors noticed the smell, I guess,

and they came over

and called an ambulance.

After that, they came

and checked on me quite frequently.

It's a good thing they did, too,

because the day I tried to commit suicide

they found me.

Would you mind talking about that?

I cut my throat with a razor.

I was dead for five minutes.

But that's why I'm here.

Three years ago,

I could not step out of my house.

And now the world is at my feet,

and it's because when I came back,

I came back completely fearless.

You're a f***ing liar.

- Quaid.

- Excuse me?

You don't come in here and lie to me

and tell me you're f***ing fearless!

- Quaid, stop!

- Hey, what are you doing?

- Quaid!

- Quaid, what the f***?

- Get off of me.

- It's f***ing makeup.

You a**hole.

I thought it'd be good for my reel.

This isn't reality television!

Get the f*** out of here!

- F*** you!

- F*** you!

F*** you!

Have you completely lost

your f***ing mind?

You can't just attack someone like that.

- I was right, wasn't I?

- Who cares?

What's it to us?

I don't feel like getting arrested for assault.

"Who cares?"

"Who cares?"

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