Author's note: There will be some shocking things in this story. If you are easily upset, DO NOT READ THIS! Rated for some slight language. This is in Roger's point of view.
When you think about it, all a man really has is his family. But what about some people? Those who never know their family. Those like me. My dad, for instance, was never around. My mother, sometimes. Charlene never wanted to be a mother. She had me at the age of sixteen, abandoning me. She'd show up once in a while, reeking, as always, of whiskey and marijuana. She'd whisk in, ruin my life, and whisk out, never helping me to pick up the pieces. But I loved her just the same. How could I not? She was my mother. Mark loves to ask me why I bother. Most of the time, I can't tell him the answer. I hated how she treated me. I hated her for what she did. But I loved her because she was my mother. There were times, though, when I wanted her to die in a ditch some where. High school, especially. That was one of the worst. She showed up a few days before freshman year, whisking me away from the comfortable life I'd been living with Mark's family, and made my life a living hell.