Blake Croft
What she said were things that he had expected. Despite never having time traveled before today, he wasn't completely ignorant of its depictions in fiction. What Wilson said made sense. They were basic rules that would prevent time from being changed drastically. He could handle that responsibility, at the very least.
But as he went to approach the front door, he found that he was suddenly too nervous to even walk off the sidewalk onto their driveway. He was going to meet his parents. The people he had heard about for years, but had no memories of. And what if he blew it? What if he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, and they ended up kicking him out of the house before he was able to be satisfied?
Better yet, could he even be satisfied? It was just a simple conversation. How could that ever make up for the years that he had been without them? He would have one memory of them to cling onto for the rest of his life, and that was it. How would that ever be enough?
He turned to Wilson. He had never been one for talking to others when he felt stressed or concerned, but she was the only one who could possibly understand his plight. "Wilso-I mean, Willy?" he asked. "This can't be your first time going back to the past. You've gone to visit people you once knew, right?"
His gaze dropped down to the sidewalk. "So how do you deal with it? The people inside there...they-they died. I think only a little while after today. How can I-how can I go in there and talk them when I know this is the only chance I'll ever get to see them?"
He had been taught that revealing his emotions was a sign of weakness, but he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face at the thought of never being able to his mom and dad again.
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