Morio's Story

A cheap gray house. Evening.

A small, cramped little house. Gray walls, dim light.

On the table — medications, empty packages, syringes. Morio’s father’s hands are shaking — thin, bluish, like those of a drug addict.

Morio’s Father: How dare you talk to your father like that?!
Morio: Don’t piss me off!
Morio’s Father: You little! (Grabs a knife and starts waving it back and forth, with no intent to kill, just to scare.) What, are you scared?!

At that moment, Morio’s sister comes home. Not understanding what’s happening, she runs in to save Morio. The knife plunges into her eye.

Morio’s Sister: Aaaahhh! (Covering her eye, she falls to the floor and loses consciousness from the pain.)
Morio: Sister!!!

Four terrified eyes stare at one another. Morio’s eyes are filled with hatred and fear. The father, in shock, drops the knife onto the floor.

Morio: What have you done?! Do you even understand what you’ve done?!

He picks up the knife. Comes up behind his father and presses the knife to his throat. His eyes are furious, like a beast’s. The father is frightened at first, but in a single second, his expression sharply changes.

Father: Well, go on, do it. Or are you too weak? (He says it with a vile, twisted smile.)
Morio: Shut up!
Father: Ahahahahaha ahahahahaha (maniacally). Then watch how it’s done!

He grabs Morio’s hand, turns the knife, and plunges it into his own throat. Morio freezes. The father falls with a devilish smile. Blood spreads across the floor.

Morio lies in a pool of blood. His father and sister are beside him.

A phone lies nearby.
The screen is glowing.

Outgoing calls: 02, 03

Night. The house.

Blue and red lights outside the windows. An ambulance. Police.

The house no longer seems small.

It seems empty.