Kevin was my father. He was not a very nice father. He drank a lot. He and Jillian would fight, he would leave and come back hours later in the middle of the night wasted or the next day, which was even better. They would fight about stupid things. Sometimes they would fight about me, but I never actually thought it was my fault. I just think he is an evil person. He fights with my mother and abuses me; that's just who he is.

I actually occasionally enjoyed when they fought because I knew that it would get him out of the house for at least several hours. Sometimes I asked Jillian if I could sleep over at Bridget's house when they fought. Most the time, if it wasn't a school night, she would say it was fine. Sometimes Bridget would be taking her mom to the hospital, so I would be forced to stay home and dreadfully wait for Kevin to come home, but when I did go to Bridget's house, those were the best times.

If I ended up staying home while my dad was out drinking, I would sleep in fear of hearing his truck pull up. I knew that moments later my door would squeak open and he would sneak into my bed. These were the worst of nights. I have no doubt that Jillian could hear him one room over, but she never did much. Eventually, when he was finished with me, he would go into his and Jillian's room. I can only imagine what he did to her. I never heard Jillian resist much, but perhaps that knew that resisting would only make it last longer. I learned that lesson after the third time when it seemed to last till it was light out. I was also surprised that he never passed out before then.

There were other nights when Kevin would just never come home. Jillian and I never talked about these nights much, but I think we both knew what he was doing. Who knows how many young kids were out there that were related to me.