[He doesn't want to admit it, giving a lengthy, reluctant pause in thought, but the doctor is right. He isn't the only one in this situation and he was hopeful home was on pause like she said or there was one Rick Grimes (his dad) and community out there worried for his, Daryl and Carol's safety. That was the most troubling thing in his mind since they ship started in red alert.]
I hope so. [He swallows, finally saying something.] This whole space trip lost its appeal long before we lost the ship.
[Another pause, as he recalls she said thank you for idiom, too.] And you're welcome.
[A half hearted shrug. His eye looked over to what other people were doing, HOW they were taking this more precisely. It seemed to him they were either pushing on or disheartened. He felt like he understand both sides, right now. But nodded out of it, focusing on her words.]
An infection sort of happened. [He started to explain.] People died or were bit by other people and then turned into what we call walkers. It happened really quick and got out of control. My mom- [He almost choked mentioning, feeling a wave of sadness, and took a second to gather himself up again before continuing.] She got me out of there with a family friend. Shane. We joined a group outside of the town and ... My dad met us later and we survived by continuing to move, until we reached one place that seemed really good. Not of all us from the start made it, but we met people, helped each other, became more stable and like family.
[He doesn't say who he lost, but his words and avoidance of the subject to her (someone still a little bit of a stranger) probably said enough. His mom was certainly not around anymore.
The subject switching to her point on cookies makes him eye her ginger snaps a little, though to be fair he knew what cookies tasted like, and her point made him feel like he wanted one. He turned is eye back up to her.]
Um- I guess I see your point now. Though I remember a little of what it was like. Does that change how I will eventually look at things? [Maybe not the brightest question he could ask, but a genuinely curious one anyway.] I mean, I remember what cookies and chocolate bars taste like sometimes. Movies. Comics. Video games with friends. Playing soccer. I miss those things.
[Sounds kiddy, he knows, but he did do them everyday. His point is:] They won't happen again. How more open is my mind if I miss those things?
nah, it's okay. it's not easy to go easy sometimes.... hahaha.
I hope so. [He swallows, finally saying something.] This whole space trip lost its appeal long before we lost the ship.
[Another pause, as he recalls she said thank you for idiom, too.] And you're welcome.
[A half hearted shrug. His eye looked over to what other people were doing, HOW they were taking this more precisely. It seemed to him they were either pushing on or disheartened. He felt like he understand both sides, right now. But nodded out of it, focusing on her words.]
An infection sort of happened. [He started to explain.] People died or were bit by other people and then turned into what we call walkers. It happened really quick and got out of control. My mom- [He almost choked mentioning, feeling a wave of sadness, and took a second to gather himself up again before continuing.] She got me out of there with a family friend. Shane. We joined a group outside of the town and ... My dad met us later and we survived by continuing to move, until we reached one place that seemed really good. Not of all us from the start made it, but we met people, helped each other, became more stable and like family.
[He doesn't say who he lost, but his words and avoidance of the subject to her (someone still a little bit of a stranger) probably said enough. His mom was certainly not around anymore.
The subject switching to her point on cookies makes him eye her ginger snaps a little, though to be fair he knew what cookies tasted like, and her point made him feel like he wanted one. He turned is eye back up to her.]
Um- I guess I see your point now. Though I remember a little of what it was like. Does that change how I will eventually look at things? [Maybe not the brightest question he could ask, but a genuinely curious one anyway.] I mean, I remember what cookies and chocolate bars taste like sometimes. Movies. Comics. Video games with friends. Playing soccer. I miss those things.
[Sounds kiddy, he knows, but he did do them everyday. His point is:] They won't happen again. How more open is my mind if I miss those things?