15. Straight from the heart
7:50 p.m. & Sunday, May. 28, 2006


By then they were both drunk like every night before, and I could hear Mother scream ever vulgar phrase imaginable. It didn�t matter what issue started their fight, I would soon be the object of their battle. She called me a cunt that night, told me I drove her to drink. I�m never sure whether to believe her, for I know that every story is embellished with her own personal touch.

Looking back on that one painful memory of many, I realize that it wasn�t the alcohol talking. It never has been. In those critical moments when she let her guard down, and the familiar stench of red wine escaped from her lips, it came straight from the heart.


I want to remember What takes a lifetime to forget