Character: April Cleaver

- I knew it, ' said Lauren, closing his eyes. - Damn mA, why you at least one lunch, half of dinner can't hold back and behave? We are only twenty minutes they came in.
- Am I being indecent? As you were, he just throws insults in your address.
- That's enough! - Lauren exclaimed, throwing a napkin and stood up. He's trying a little to liven up the atmosphere. But you are still dead. John is generally not a word is said!
"That's because I'm smart, not because I'm dead."

No, seriously, ' continued Kurt, glancing at Lauren. - Maybe you have what is it? And then, if you're going to burst as it is now, will never fit into skinny jeans.
- No, indeed! - outraged mother, beating with a fork on the table. - Well, who says such things?
- But the way it is! 'said Lauren. I can't pull those jeans.
- And still that is no reason to talk about you this way.
I don't need a reason, if that's true, ' said Kurt.
At his grin, I knew he wasn't sure he was joking to lighten the atmosphere. Amazingly, even I knew he said the wrong thing.

In a city this small panic may be no better than murder. And even worse, mom said, pouring milk into a glass. - The people are fear, they begin to leave. Or locked in the evenings in their homes. To conduct business increasingly difficult, and the tension grows. - She took a SIP of milk. And here comes some idiot who is looking for a scapegoat, and then the panic quickly turns into chaos.

- But most importantly, we are together. I will not allow you to pick up. And will not leave you. Never. We are a family. I will always be there.
Something deep inside me clicked into place and I realized that life was waiting for those words. They overwhelmed me and at the same time was released instead in my soul like a long lost piece of the puzzle. The voltage of this night, this day, the last five months came out of me like blood from opened veins and I first saw her my mother, not crazy, not a spy and not a killer, a sad and lonely boy. I clung to her for the first time in many years, realized that able to cry.

Here's what you must remember, John. Everything comes with experience. You say you don't know how to communicate with people. So, the only way to learn is to start trying. Communicate. Interact. You won't get the social skills if you're going to sit here with me.

- You really want to leave me here alone?
- Find something constructive occupation.
- We go to collect the body. What could be more constructive?

- So a serial killer is something like movie stars? she asked.
- I didn't say it. It is sick perverts, they do terrible things. Just, I think, a desire to learn more about them doesn't make you a sick pervert.
- There is a big difference between wanting to learn more about them and thoughts about what you'll be one of them.

I got the highest score for this work, - I said. - The teacher liked it.
- If you know how to do what you do, it doesn't get better, ' said the mother.
- It was a history assignment, and the serial killer part of the story. As war, racism and genocide. Apparently I forgot to register for a course "just about good". Well, I'm sorry.

- How can you be happy if the therapist says my son is a sociopath. Happiness is when...
He said that I'm a sociopath?
It was great. I always sort of suspected, but this diagnosis officially, it was very nice.

- How do you even know? - alarmed her. - For God's sake, you're only fifteen, you have to... you know... not interested in girls who play video games.
- You know what happens when a sociopath interested in girls?

Death is a sad thing, even if you earn her money.