• Mary almost always had the right perspective on things. In fact, I can only think of two things I disagreed with her on now: Shooting herself and her thoughts about her--my--dad.

    Her dad wasn't the little innocent person she made him look to be in her diary. Her real dad--my dad--was a lustful, not contented jerk. Even when he broke up with Mrs. Archibald and married my mom, he couldn't prevent himself from gambling, from lying, and most of all, trying to gain back old love when he already had my mom. I would never forgive him. Ever.

    Heck, if he hadn't married my mom, Mary would still be alive, I was sure of it. Even if it meant I didn't exist, if it could prevent Mary from dying...I would do it. She deserved life far more than I will ever deserve mine.

    I shook my head and stared out the window from my bed. I had to stop wishing things from the past didn't happen. I could only stop things like these from ever happening again in the future.

    I looked back down at my pillow. Mary...was my sister. Well, my step sister. To think of all the years I didn't know, and all the years I hated her, yet all along the way we were related.

    My dad was the devil. Lying, deception, lust, coveting, not to mention murder. Everyday, it felt as though there was a new murderer to Mary's suicide. First it was her, then me, then God, and now my dad.

    I hated dad. I hated him with all my heart.

    -----------------------------------------------

    Weeks went by, extremely boring weeks to say the least. On April 21st, mom got out of her coma, only to have the news broke to her that she was going to court. It wasn't a very long trial, though. I watched from the gallery as the person who crashed into our car and the police officer were testifying and also cross-examined. There was no fault found in their testimonies, and the judged looked convinced on the fact that my mom was a drunk driver.

    "This case--seems pretty definite to me," he said as the trial was about to come to a close. "Mrs. Jacobs, do you have anything you'd like to add or enlighten us on?" My mom stayed silent, her head nestled in her arms.

    "Did you or did you not get drunk recently before you drived?"

    There's still a chance, I thought. If mom pleads innocent and is telling the truth, then she'll be off the hook. My mom bit her lip, and with a sound of defeated, replied,

    "Yes...your honor. I was--I was drunk." The gallery immediately broke into an outburst of murmuring as she said this, me leaning my body forward and starting to pout. The sound of the judge's gavel immediately squelched everyone.

    "Order in the court!" he cried, and then turned to my mom, saying,

    "Mrs. Jacobs, your time in prison will be lowered from two years to one year, plus 1,000 hours of community service. Is that suiting, or would you rather have no community service but two years in prison?"

    "It's...fine...your honor."

    No, I thought, shaking my head, no, it's not. And suddenly, I lifted myself up, and charged out of the double doors.

    "Tom!" a voice from behind me called, the voice being, of course, my dad's. What a surprise. I turned around, and said as arrogantly as I could,

    "What do you want?" He smiled weakly, walked over to me, knelled down, and ruffled my hair.

    "I just wanted to say," he told me, trying to sound as affectionate as possible, "that I'm sorry." I pushed him away, and turned back around.

    "You told me that yesterday. I don't care." He got up, walked to my side, and looked at me, as he said,

    "I wasn't apologizing about what I did. I highly doubt you'll ever forgive me. I was apolgizing about everything you've gone through." I looked back up at him, and retorted,

    "Oh, yeah? And what makes you so sure you understand what I've gone through so much?" I dug my hands in my pockets, and looked down, as I went on, "I was a jerk a couple of weeks ago, and I hated Mary. By the time I finally was about to apologize, I was too late. She was dead." I looked back up, and suddenly full of confidence said, "Then I learned about the truth of you; that you're a no good liar and a rotten cheater. I also learned that Mary and I were stepsiblings, and ontop of that, my mom was just convicted of drunk driving for a sentence of one year in prison and 1,000 hours of community service! Not to mention the fact that this was all...your...fault!"

    My dad started to sulk towards the exit, as he replied,

    "Son, it's easy to throw the blame at someone when things get frustrating. But there's hardly ever such a thing as a definite person to blame; the fault is almost always split. I've done a lot of horrible things, but it doesn't justify to start pointing fingers. And..." He turned his head back to me, and said solemnly,

    "I didn't say I understood what was going on in your life. I said I apologized for what was going on in your life. Now, come on." I followed him out of the courthouse, and as I stepped into the car, I was certain that my dad wasn't being sincere about anything, and that he was just searching for pity. Sorry, dad, but if you're looking for a sympathizer, you'd best look elsewhere.

    "Tom, I still love you," he reassured me as we drove on back home. I slumped back into my chair, let out a sigh, and replied,

    "And I still hate you, dad."