It was me. It was me all those nights that waited up for him to come home. It was me that held his hair out of the toilet while he threw up everything he ate for dinner. It was me that helped him to his bunk. I was the one who cared for him like a brother every night. I saved him from humiliation every morning when others asked about what he did every night and why he came home so late.

"Oh, he was out fighting. You know, those Bronx boys are always looking for him," I told them. And they believed me. What fools they were. Anyone with half a brain could tell he was an alcoholic. But maybe I was the only one who really knew.

All I knew was that I was sick and tired of cleaning up his messes. It was time he came clean and took control of his problems. Maybe if everyone found out, it would be a reality check.

At least that's what I was hoping. I was hoping if everyone knew, he would realize how stupid he was being and finally decide to stop. But you know Jack Kelly; he's as stubborn as they come.