When I was little my parents told me bad things happen to good people, I never really understood that until I was at your house and I heard your dad hit you, or when my sister's fiancé cancelled the wedding because he saw his high school sweetheart at Starbucks, or when I hear my old best friend got hit by a car and died right after she left her volunteer job at the shelter, but I finally understood when I came home and saw a note on the counter saying "I'm sorry" and I saw drops of blood and tears heading towards the bathroom.
