G-R : Danute Nakvosaici

without socks version

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Danutė Nakvosaici (c) yukkurionion

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    Considering Danutė originally had feelings for Galeti, her captor, and she was held captive for ten years, it’s not surprising that she’s developed Stockholm Syndrome (in which the hostage expresses empathy, sympathy, and hold positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with them). Thus, majority of her characteristics derive from her imprisonment and the development of said syndrome.

 Optimistic

“Silence was our conversation.”

She looks at the brighter side of things. She believes that she should be grateful for not having snapped yet and for having enough sanity to be optimistic about her situation.

After she had finally broken to her captor’s routine, she began to adjust to the life, and now that he’s dead, she feels that no one else would want her as much as he did.

 Gentle

She is soft-spoken and delicate in movement; she is also frail because of the lack of exercise and the small portions that came with the Asian meals that her captor prepared for her.

 Calm

She's overall very peaceful; she does not anger easily. She doesn't disobey much and is very docile.

 Malleable

She figures that she is not good enough as herself. She has no self-confidence whatsoever, and is prone to obeying if someone were to tell her to change into this or that- the same way her captor forcibly did to her.

 Pushover

She does not argue much. When she was confined, she did not have much power to talk back to her captor. Although he had impaired her from doing anything by herself and forbid her from moving by herself, he took care of her as if she were a paralyzed child.

 Lonely

She was confined for ten years without any connection to the outside world and held very little conversations with her captor.

The only person that she considered close to her was her captor. And even that alone tells you how alone she is.

Now that he’s dead, she has no one but the staff to tend and take care of her. Since she and her captor did not talk much in general, she’s not used to hearing too many voices at once. Although overwhelming, she finds the experience fascinating.

 Insecure

Considering her captor completely changed her identity to fit his needs because she was not enough as herself, she doesn’t feel she has any worth most of the time.

She views others on a high pedestal and often thinks of herself as mere decoration, just as her captor treated her. And she feels that that's the only thing she can do best, and even with that, she feels insecure because she can't even see how she looks like anymore.

She cannot do much for she can’t walk nor see; thus, she feels even more of a burden to others.

    After they exchanged names, their sentences increased by one word per week. It was a slow development, but they were both patient and embraced the silence.

    By the time they reached five words, Galeti spoke,

    "Want to go somewhere else?"

    And there it began, their little adventures throughout various places in Lithuania. Each day was one painting, and each week was one more word spoken.

    Much of their days and weeks held only silence and curt nods before they separated and came back again the next sunrise.


    "What else.. do you do?" she asked.

    "This."

    His house was quiet. The lights were dim and approached their demise. He was not bothered, for he preferred the natural sunlight. The shadows in his house provide him material for practice for his sketchbook. The contrast of the shadows trains him, drill him to become better.

    His house is small. Two floors, but one is a basement. A hidden room, so deep, deep underground.

    Galeti was a lonely man. He fantasized about a woman with long, straight black locks, and small, black eyes with a pale complexion and a petite physique. A dream he continued to draw and fantasize about every single night.

    The paintings stored in his room were nothing but a fictional woman, while the paintings of all there is around him were sold to those outside.

    He was in his own little world, rocking back and forth in solitude.

    But now... he had a living girl.

    A living girl that loved him enough to come and visit every day.

    A living girl that loved him enough to come and follow to new adventures and new smells.

    A living girl that loved him enough to descend down the stairs and stay.

    And unfortunately for Danutė, her visage was not enough. She was much too tall, much too far from his ideal, but she was the only participant, the only one within his hold.

    So he sculpted. So he molded. So he shaped her how he wanted.

    He poured black over her blonde locks, disguising her.
    He wrapped bandages and broke her feet, binding her.
    He painted black over her green orbs, blinding her.

    She had to be pretty. She had to be perfect. For she was the only chance- the only way he could be any step closer to his dream- to his fictional woman.

    And just like the first weeks of their encounter,

    Silence was their conversation.

    For ten years, she was confined in that basement. The sound of her cries when, she did breakdown, were never heard. And each and every day her feet would be unbounded and broken again.

    Until a rotten, rotten fruit sprouted from the withered flower,

    The last resort to keep her sanity, to keep herself in check.

    The world is a big place, filled with tons and tons of people. Different faces, races, ethnicities, personalities, cultures- there was a whole buffet for those who sought to find someone special.

    Therefore, it was not impossible to find an Asian woman wandering about a foreign country. And one look was all it took for Galeti to abandon Danutė's side.

    No guilt, no remorse, no hesitation. She was abandoned as quickly as she was sculpted. The feeling of abandonment, of complete solitude, depressed her. Even her captor did not want her.

    And when he left with a slam of the door, she could not help but feel stupid for thinking that even after ten years of being together-- that she was enough- that she was adequate.

    There were no weddings. There were no papers. There was only pretending. She had lost all feeling in her feet, and she could not even see the horrors unimaginable if she had looked down to see them.

    She was left in his home; silence was their conversation.

   The door slammed open, and it startled her- making her straighten up in her chair. She was hungry and thirsty, but the thought of Galeti returning brightened her up to forget such physiological needs. Her hands quickly moved around, trying to find herself in the house as she remembered it, until--



    "You!"



    It was not the sweet, soft sound of Galeti's voice,



    "You killed him!"



    But only his final departure.