Author's note: This chapter is in first person Roger again. It's kind of like the intermission of a Broadway show. Thus the name "Intermission"
After that incident, I wasn't sure if I could ever forgive my mother for the hell she was putting me through. I didn't really care about the other times; I'd recovered, I'd moved on. But this time? This time she'd gone too far. That guitar was my baby. It was a part of me. I felt like a part of me had died along with the guitar. I'd done Jimi Hendrix wrong by allowing his guitar to even be on the same continent as Charlene. You have no idea how much willpower it took that night, to keep from murdering her then and there. If I hadn't realized what my actions would do to my friends, I probably would have killed her then and there. I was furious. It was too much to handle. I mean, first Saylinda, then my guitar? I was ready to kill anyone who looked at me wrong. Mark asked me later on, when I'd calmed down a bit, why I went to Collins' instead of his house. I told him it was because I didn't want to have to explain to his mother. The real reason? I was afraid that I would try to kill him. At least if I tried to hurt Collins, he'd be able to stop me. But Mark was different. We both know that if I tried to hurt him, I'd probably succeed. A scary notion. Charlene, I guess, didn't realize what she'd done, not that it would have stopped her. But maybe, if she'd realized what she started, maybe she wouldn't have done it. But, as things often work out, she had no idea about the chain of events she'd started.