I need to get my shit straight and have to get answers. But I can't just ask him why he acts like a kid? What if it's his coping mechanism? Oh God, I sure wish I knew how to deal with this right now. I feel so stuck. I don't know what to say.

"Alright, I just want you to know that I am slowly trying to take this all in. But you should also know that it's okay. You're not freaking me out. It's just things like these does not usually happen, and I just usually get this kind of thrilling emotions pump through my veins when I watch my favorite horror movies," I managed to chuckle and then stop when I see that he's not amused by any of this as well. I clear my throat, "But yeah, it's okay. Just give me a second to take it all in."

There is silence in the room.

"How long have you coped with the..." I tilt my head a bit, "doll?"

He doesn't answer. That'll take some time, then.

"Okay how about this?" I sigh, "I will ask you questions, and if there are questions you are not ready to answer yet, you don't have to say anything. But...you have to promise me that if I ask a certain question that you have an answer to, and you have to be honest about it, you have to tell me. If it's an answer to a really easy question. Like, 'how old are you' and stuff like that. So if you have a gut feeling to answer something, say something. But if you really can't, you don't have to." I nod once, "Okay?"

He's a little late, but he nods once. I'm just glad this is working. I guess I kinda have to treat him like a teenage boy. I sure hope he is a teen somewhere in there...and just hit puberty really early.

"So, Brahms?" I start, "Where are your parents?"

I stand up from the bed quickly when I realize I might drench it with water from my clothes.

"Dead." he says faintly but with sureness in his voice, "They left me. Now they're dead."

I'm not quite sure I am getting the context of that. I should probably not push any further. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

No response. "You don't have any other family? Like uncles? Or maybe a babysitter before me?"

"They left." he said again.

Oh, God. Don't tell me they all gave up on him.

I suddenly feel bad for him.

"When?"

"Long time ago."

Should I ask why?

"How did you manage to survive alone, here?"

"I wait. I was alone, but I waited. And Julie came by to care for me."

Yes, he refers to the doll as himself.

"How long did you have to wait?"

He doesn't reply. Probably a long, long time.

"How old are you?"

Takes him some time. "Twenty nine."

I feel embarrassment. He's...in his late twenties...damn. I feel a weird gut feeling. It's not that I find it weird, but it's all sort of emotions draining down to my stomach, making me feel things.

He's 29 years old and his coping mechanism is to become a young boy. I still don't get why. But for now, I guess this is all the information I have to take in. It's too much for him to say, and too much for me to take tonight.

I look at the doll.

I glance at him and see that we're just a few steps away from each other. For some reason, I wanna get a closer look. But I also want to keep my distance. I glance at the doll, and I feel him glance at it, too. I pause then look back at him. He's still looking at the doll.

"Brahms?" I speak up and he looks at me,

He doesn't say a word.

"Do you still need me to attend to the doll?" I mean now that I know that it's not the doll who needs care, he should probably agree. "I guess this means we can put the doll aside now, huh?" He snaps his head at me as if he did not like what I said.

"Follow the rules." He says, "You must always follow the rules." I hear his tone get a little higher.

Okay, maybe I should deal with that soon, but not now.

"Okay, Okay" My hands are raised, trying to calm him down, and I nod at him gently. "I'll keep following the rules. All I'm saying is...maybe I don't have to babysit the doll?"

He gets what I'm saying, right?

Brahms doesn't say anything again.

"Are you getting rid-" I knew he was thinking about that, I quickly interrupt him,

"I am just saying..." I emphasize the word 'just', making sure he hears me out, "Maybe it would be better if it would be you that I'll take care of."