What you wouldn't do

Interrogator: Do you realize what you did?
Prisoner: Yes, for the 100th fucking time, yes. Do you think the memory wasn't burned bright in my head? And then I get reminded of it every fucking day? By you self-righteous fuckers? And the magazines?
Interrogator: But how could you do these things?
Prisoner: You keep on asking that question, and in fact, I know the next question you are going to ask. It's about the eyes, isn't it?
Interrogator: Yes, it is. I want to know how you could put aside human feeling and do something so wrong, and so disgusting.
Prisoner: Well, here's an answer, since you are so curious. Then maybe you can stop asking. The first answer is, you weren't there. You don't understand the hate that was there, and how we were treated. But the real answer is: you know about the fireman who rushes into the burning building to rescue the baby? You know the soldier who goes out into no-man's land to rescue his comrade? I was the second. And I rescued children, too. I did lots of things that you are called heroes for because you won the war. I lost, so I am remembered for putting out people's eyes with a knife. Yeah, I did it. And do you know why? Because there comes a point when you can do things you wouldn't normally do. Sometimes they are good. Sometimes they are bad. But at the time, they just happen. I don't suppose you would understand.
Interrogator: ...
Prisoner: Yeah, I thought so. I am not answering any more questions.