More than once, he came home with bloodshot eyes and was staggering. I tried to talk to him, but he just blew me off. "You don't own me." He said. "Yo...'re not my father." He would yell with anger in his eyes. I didn't know what to do. My own guilt was consuming me too. I was putting in forty hours a week at work. I was promoted to waiter and making ok money. I still split it all with my brothers.Through all this, mom was withdrawing more. I saw a change in her every month. Six months after the. The photo she showed us was fantastic. To call it a yacht gives the wrong impression, for it was like a small ocean liner. The limousine that took us to the little airport to get on the private jet was lovely, it was a white stretch hummer and after just a short drive we were embarking on to her dad’s private plane It wasn’t long before we were in the air and though Izzy and I were used to planes, Di was incredulous at the luxury of it all. After what seemed a short journey we were. More

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