[The gaze is uncomfortable. It's steady and unnerving, and he thinks this must be what it feels like to be examined, like a specimen under a microscope or a mouse used for a test, to be prodded at and watched for reactions. Was the man trying to understand something, he wonders.]

... I think, if someone were able to face forward, and realize tomorrow isn't something to be afraid of, change can happen. [He doesn't understand why he's being asked this. Yet, he can't find it in himself to question it. He just answers, biting his lip a little as he pauses after every few words, trying to choose them carefully. He realizes these are words he believes in. A fact that, because he believed in it, he tried to turn away from.]

... If you don't face forward, you can't -- or you won't -- change.