Corbanic I walked down the dreary street and shuddered. This wasn't going to be easy. I faintly remember the last conversation I had with my mother. As a matter of fact, they weren't really conversations, a more appropriate word would be argument. Ever since my my father died in a car accident-i was seven at the time-it's gotten worse. The quarreling, yelling, screaming matches. I usually won, but that just made me feel worse I snapped back to the presentand groaned. I thought 'good job, now you really did it.' I couldn't help it. She never took care of me after the accident. I had to work for the two of us to live. I had saved every penny i had that wasn't used for food. i had saved about $200, and none of it was going to my "Mother" who used any money she could get