cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max

cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:

Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?

//lol chill max//

They didn’t even care…

But I do, Max. It was a traumatic event and
you shouldn’t have had to see it. It’s also a tremendous loss that I can’t even
fathom. I’m so sorry that it happened. *gently wipes his face again. Shifts until
he’s sitting cross-legged in front of him*

Why do you care? You barely even know me! What’s it to you if I killed my father?

To me? To me, you’re suffering with a
knowledge that isn’t actually real. And I know that is extremely painful. My
mother couldn’t handle children… and I thought she couldn’t handle me.

I’m not sorry that I care about you, even
though we just met. I apologize if you’re not okay with that… but I do care.

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max

cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:

Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?

//lol chill max//

I…I
was five years old. Me and my father were walking near a park, and I
was holding my favorite toy //itsmrhoneynuts//. At one point, I realized
I had dropped it, and spotted it in the road. I ran out to get it, not
realizing there was a car coming. My dad saw this and ran into the road
and pushed me out of the way…*he trails off, needing a moment before he
can continue*

*just listens. His knees are starting to hurt –
he’s not young anymore – but he’s just listening.* It’s okay, Max. Take your
time.

Well…the car came and…hit him. Somebody called 911 and the ambulance came but…*tears fill his eyes again* my mom is an alcoholic and she never cared about me. She still doesn’t. She didn’t care about my dad either. She has a boyfriend now who’s about 15 years younger than her, and they both hate me…sometimes…they would…*he stops* um…

*bites his tongue for now. Max wasn’t done
talking yet*

Go on, Max. If you’re okay with telling me.

H…hit me…they would hit me…and yell, and…they were just…*max breaks off, sobbing*

*puts a hand on Max’s shoulder and gives it a
squeeze. He fishes out another tissue from his pocket and gently starts to wipe
at his face. His heart hurts for the boy.* I’m here, Max. It’s okay to cry…
there, there, buddy…

*max collapses to the ground and just sits there sobbing* I…I…I…I’m sorry…

You didn’t know. You didn’t understand. It
wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry that happened to you, Max. I’m so sorry that
happened.

cliche-ask-max

cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:

Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?

//lol chill max//

I…I
was five years old. Me and my father were walking near a park, and I
was holding my favorite toy //itsmrhoneynuts//. At one point, I realized
I had dropped it, and spotted it in the road. I ran out to get it, not
realizing there was a car coming. My dad saw this and ran into the road
and pushed me out of the way…*he trails off, needing a moment before he
can continue*

*just listens. His knees are starting to hurt –
he’s not young anymore – but he’s just listening.* It’s okay, Max. Take your
time.

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max

cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:

Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?

//lol chill max//

I…can’t…*hes still hyperventilating and unable to calm down* ohgodohgodohgod

Max! Max, breathe. Look at me. Don’t think – just look at me and take a breath in.

Can’t…I killed…killed him…

Max, stay with me and look at me. Please, Max.
Just look at me. Look at my big, fat nose and my greying hair. *he hopes saying
something weird might snap him out of it enough*

My dad had grey hair…*a few tears slip down his cheeks* I’m…I’m a murderer…

No, kid. You’re not. You have what we call ‘diminished
responsibility’. Max… you’re just a child. The only responsibility you have is
if you take a piece of candy from a store. Look at me, buddy. Just look at me.
Okay?

*looks at you with eyes full of tears* no…you don’t fucking get it do you? It was my fault that he died. It was my fucking fault. I was an idiot. How can you say it wasn’t my fault when you don’t even know the story? *starts crying again*

Because you’re a child. And because it wasn’t my fault when my mom left my father
alone with two kids, one of whom she wished she’d had aborted before he was
born.

*he puts both hands on Max’s shoulders.* No, I
don’t know the full story. But I know that you’re a kid, and you can’t possibly
know everything there is to know. I know I don’t understand, but I don’t need
to understand to try and help you.

*suddenly hugs him* *pulls away quickly* I’m sorry. David isn’t here right now…do you think that maybe…I could talk to you?

*frowns slightly, but nods. The hug surprised
him* Sure, kiddo. Where would you like to talk? And… would you like to know
more about me first? So you feel a little better about talking to me?

I just…need to…say this…need to tell someone…

*nods* Alright, Max. Alright. I’m listening.

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max:

the-perfect-scientist:

cliche-ask-max

cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:

Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?

//lol chill max//

I…can’t…*hes still hyperventilating and unable to calm down* ohgodohgodohgod

Max! Max, breathe. Look at me. Don’t think – just look at me and take a breath in.

Can’t…I killed…killed him…

Max, stay with me and look at me. Please, Max.
Just look at me. Look at my big, fat nose and my greying hair. *he hopes saying
something weird might snap him out of it enough*

My dad had grey hair…*a few tears slip down his cheeks* I’m…I’m a murderer…

No, kid. You’re not. You have what we call ‘diminished
responsibility’. Max… you’re just a child. The only responsibility you have is
if you take a piece of candy from a store. Look at me, buddy. Just look at me.
Okay?

*looks at you with eyes full of tears* no…you don’t fucking get it do you? It was my fault that he died. It was my fucking fault. I was an idiot. How can you say it wasn’t my fault when you don’t even know the story? *starts crying again*

Because you’re a child. And because it wasn’t my fault when my mom left my father
alone with two kids, one of whom she wished she’d had aborted before he was
born.

*he puts both hands on Max’s shoulders.* No, I
don’t know the full story. But I know that you’re a kid, and you can’t possibly
know everything there is to know. I know I don’t understand, but I don’t need
to understand to try and help you.

*suddenly hugs him* *pulls away quickly* I’m sorry. David isn’t here right now…do you think that maybe…I could talk to you?

*frowns slightly, but nods. The hug surprised
him* Sure, kiddo. Where would you like to talk? And… would you like to know
more about me first? So you feel a little better about talking to me?