“You know I cleaned up her vomit almost every bloody day. I learned how to cook at the age of seven. I begged her to get better for me because she was all that I had. You know I was picking out shards of glass from my fucking face because she hated when I smiled because I look like you. You aren’t my father, because if you were, you would have prevented me from having to put up with that. And a father doesn’t make their kid feel like a burden for existing. And how dare you ask me to forget…”
