Recently is a very relative word, here. But, uh, my birthday is Christmas Eve and I knew a couple people who were completely horrified I didn't know shit about Christmas, my family didn't really ever do holidays when I was little. Took me a while as a child to figure out it was not that my birthday was a big deal, for some reason.
[he settles in with his popcorn, starting the movie in the background.]
Oh. There are so many different kinds of family...
[She has already expressed she thinks his parents are questionable. She will not be subtle about it now.]
That's... sort of cool, though! And now that you know, you have a great excuse to treat yourself twice for Christmas. Maybe even more. I consider that a win-win.
[which is apparently what he relies on, is gifting himself. it's fine. he politely does not comment on sheila's lack of subtlety about his family, but it is probably not about to improve, either-- with their proximity, there's a shift in perspective, and he very nearly drops the popcorn as he realizes what's happening.]
[it's a little jumbled together, like these memories are hard to extricate from each other in his head. he's very small the first time he realizes something is strange; they're at his great-aunt's house after her funeral, and his grandmother is very gently explaining that aunt margy has gone very far away now and won't be coming back. "no, she's still here," he says, confused, and his grandmother tears up a little as she pats his head, tells him that yes, she knows it feels that way, but she really is gone. his little brow furrows as he looks over her shoulder at his great-aunt, standing right behind her. he doesn't understand why everyone here is ignoring her, or why he's shushed when he points her out.
they think it's a little kid trying to cope. they think the other people he sees are the imaginary friends of a quiet boy without many real ones. they think this up until he gets older and they start to worry, especially when he cheerfully tells them about his good friend who is a little leaky on account of his insides being outsides, but it's okay because he's very nice. nancy has an odd look on her face, then. (it doesn't strike him until much, much later on that most people's moms do not insist on being called by their first name. he never thinks of her as mom.)
and then there are a lot of new people he has to talk to. they have a lot of questions about what he sees, and they sound weirdly concerned about his answers-- but doesn't everyone just see those people who are kind of bloody, or missing pieces? doesn't everyone hop over the blood puddles on the sidewalk, see smears of it on walls? what do they mean, everyone doesn't just see people dying on loop in certain places?
officially speaking, it's called hallucinatory psychosis, and he's homeschooled after that, taking his classes online while his parents are at their jobs. it feels a little weird that his dad is a teacher but doesn't teach him, but he supposes it'd be a lot of work, and nancy is always at the hospital.
it's very lonely-- except for the ghosts, which he realizes now is exactly what they all are. he's fine. he just sees dead people, and as long as he pretends to be normal, maybe it'll work out. he's very bad at it, but he thinks he can get better; the meds sure don't help him with anything, after all, so he guesses he'll have to figure several things out for himself.]
[...and when that finishes, envy's just kind of staring awkwardly down into the popcorn, trying very hard to pretend that didn't happen.]
Um- anyway! Popcorn--? Wait. No, you can't eat it, that's right. Fuck.
[AHHHHHHHHHHH IT IS DEFINITELY NOT ABOUT TO IMPROVE WHAT THE FUCK
She just kind of. Stares. For a hot second. And then gently places a hand on his arm.]
I know you like to defend your family, so I won't call them the names I'm thinking of right now. But just so you know, if I ever meet them, I may just ram my foot so far up their asses that they'll have no choice but to shit through their mouths. [Lightly.] You have a special gift and they should have recognized that, what the fuck.
I-- you-- I do? I mean, I know I have it, but- you think so?
[he looks a little baffled at that, honestly, but-- also kind of grateful.]
I mean, nobody really... they just didn't believe ghosts existed, you know, I can't really blame them for thinking something was wrong, but- I'm also not super used to people just accepting that either?
[Sir, are you aware you are speaking to a zombie? Please.]
You see phony ghost whisperers get rich on TV all the time. It's honestly outrageous that when someone actually can talk to ghosts, they get judged by society for it. [She huffs!] ... I'm sorry. I wish your family had been more open minded.
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[he settles in with his popcorn, starting the movie in the background.]
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[She has already expressed she thinks his parents are questionable. She will not be subtle about it now.]
That's... sort of cool, though! And now that you know, you have a great excuse to treat yourself twice for Christmas. Maybe even more. I consider that a win-win.
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[which is apparently what he relies on, is gifting himself. it's fine. he politely does not comment on sheila's lack of subtlety about his family, but it is probably not about to improve, either-- with their proximity, there's a shift in perspective, and he very nearly drops the popcorn as he realizes what's happening.]
[it's a little jumbled together, like these memories are hard to extricate from each other in his head. he's very small the first time he realizes something is strange; they're at his great-aunt's house after her funeral, and his grandmother is very gently explaining that aunt margy has gone very far away now and won't be coming back. "no, she's still here," he says, confused, and his grandmother tears up a little as she pats his head, tells him that yes, she knows it feels that way, but she really is gone. his little brow furrows as he looks over her shoulder at his great-aunt, standing right behind her. he doesn't understand why everyone here is ignoring her, or why he's shushed when he points her out.
they think it's a little kid trying to cope. they think the other people he sees are the imaginary friends of a quiet boy without many real ones. they think this up until he gets older and they start to worry, especially when he cheerfully tells them about his good friend who is a little leaky on account of his insides being outsides, but it's okay because he's very nice. nancy has an odd look on her face, then. (it doesn't strike him until much, much later on that most people's moms do not insist on being called by their first name. he never thinks of her as mom.)
and then there are a lot of new people he has to talk to. they have a lot of questions about what he sees, and they sound weirdly concerned about his answers-- but doesn't everyone just see those people who are kind of bloody, or missing pieces? doesn't everyone hop over the blood puddles on the sidewalk, see smears of it on walls? what do they mean, everyone doesn't just see people dying on loop in certain places?
officially speaking, it's called hallucinatory psychosis, and he's homeschooled after that, taking his classes online while his parents are at their jobs. it feels a little weird that his dad is a teacher but doesn't teach him, but he supposes it'd be a lot of work, and nancy is always at the hospital.
it's very lonely-- except for the ghosts, which he realizes now is exactly what they all are. he's fine. he just sees dead people, and as long as he pretends to be normal, maybe it'll work out. he's very bad at it, but he thinks he can get better; the meds sure don't help him with anything, after all, so he guesses he'll have to figure several things out for himself.]
[...and when that finishes, envy's just kind of staring awkwardly down into the popcorn, trying very hard to pretend that didn't happen.]
Um- anyway! Popcorn--? Wait. No, you can't eat it, that's right. Fuck.
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She just kind of. Stares. For a hot second. And then gently places a hand on his arm.]
I know you like to defend your family, so I won't call them the names I'm thinking of right now. But just so you know, if I ever meet them, I may just ram my foot so far up their asses that they'll have no choice but to shit through their mouths. [Lightly.] You have a special gift and they should have recognized that, what the fuck.
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[he looks a little baffled at that, honestly, but-- also kind of grateful.]
I mean, nobody really... they just didn't believe ghosts existed, you know, I can't really blame them for thinking something was wrong, but- I'm also not super used to people just accepting that either?
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[Sir, are you aware you are speaking to a zombie? Please.]
You see phony ghost whisperers get rich on TV all the time. It's honestly outrageous that when someone actually can talk to ghosts, they get judged by society for it. [She huffs!] ... I'm sorry. I wish your family had been more open minded.
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[it's fine it's fine it's fine.]
Definitely do not get me started on TV mediums though, holy shit.
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[Just. Gives him a look that says "you've said this before but I will stop beating this dead horse... for now."]
And what if I wanted to get you started on TV mediums?