Instead, I saw her as the somewhat remote director of my upbringing. Looking back, I can see that the terrible time I caused for her during late pregn...ncy contributed to her border-line mental illness, her obsession regarding me and her fears that she had birthed a monster, her pathological drive to keep me on the path of good.If she could have turned me into a priest or monk, she would have been overjoyed with that outcome for me, her first and only child, her Son.My Father was a weak willed. She looked to be in her early thirties and wore a biker-style black leather jacket with all those buckles and rings. Her hair was fire engine red and cropped short, and her face and ears were adorned by numerous metal rings and studs. She looked mean, but without all the metal, her face would probably be quite pleasant. “...to see you here again, you haven’t shown your face around in quite some time.” The redhead was saying to Anne, and I was thanking god that she couldn’t see my back. “You’re. More

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