My sister has a beautiful daughter. She's five years old, and to be honest, she saved my life once. I was headed for disaster myself once, and then she was born, and I seemed to choose the right path. Well, maybe not the right path, but a better one atleast. Anyways, back to the story I was telling...
I had heard enough many hours later. It all felt very surreal, like a dream that makes no sense, no matter how hard you think about for days afterwards.
Jamie and Olivia, his daughter, were staying with my parents. They had not heard anything from my sister in days, and were worried sick of course. More like to the point of losing their minds, and I was scared for them as much as I was scared for my sister. If she was cracked out somewhere, turning tricks to pay her way through this haze that had become her life, I thought the worst. She's been raped and beaten. She's overdosed somewhere and she's alone. The last thing I said to everyone that night, was this: "Man, I wish I could be that fly on the wall of her house."
The next day when I woke up, I was something else.