Hi my fellow writers,
I write about a man who has some mental problems due to isolation confinement. He has trouble to "stay in reality" and switches back into different times of his old life or the ordeals endured in prison.
Sometimes I indicate "he remembered" or that the surroundings seem to change. But more often I just put the flashbacks/thoughts in italics.
Is that enough or would that confuse the reader?
The scenes look like that: (please overlook ANY language mistakes, it will be proofread after it is finished
)
Leffler grabbed him, ripped him against the back of his chair. “So you need a little wakeup call?!” A fast and harsh kick into his stomach followed. Rahim doubled over and gasped for air.
“You can either talk or croak!” It wasn’t Leffler’s voice anymore; and it wasn’t the interrogation room at Whitehill they were in, either. It was a metal barred cell, the dirty concrete floor already smeared with blood and other body fluids, when the punch hit and Rahim stumbled to the ground again. The blood splatters multiplied and blurred in front of his view. Coughing and rattling, the blood hammering in his ears, Rahim prepared for the next hit. But it was quite another pain that suddenly jolted through his body. He wasn’t able to do anything anymore but moan.
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I write about a man who has some mental problems due to isolation confinement. He has trouble to "stay in reality" and switches back into different times of his old life or the ordeals endured in prison.
Sometimes I indicate "he remembered" or that the surroundings seem to change. But more often I just put the flashbacks/thoughts in italics.
Is that enough or would that confuse the reader?
The scenes look like that: (please overlook ANY language mistakes, it will be proofread after it is finished
)Leffler grabbed him, ripped him against the back of his chair. “So you need a little wakeup call?!” A fast and harsh kick into his stomach followed. Rahim doubled over and gasped for air.
“You can either talk or croak!” It wasn’t Leffler’s voice anymore; and it wasn’t the interrogation room at Whitehill they were in, either. It was a metal barred cell, the dirty concrete floor already smeared with blood and other body fluids, when the punch hit and Rahim stumbled to the ground again. The blood splatters multiplied and blurred in front of his view. Coughing and rattling, the blood hammering in his ears, Rahim prepared for the next hit. But it was quite another pain that suddenly jolted through his body. He wasn’t able to do anything anymore but moan.
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