The voice is loud, deep, with some kind of accent; words, but none I can make out. I was OK, sitting with my friends on this fine July evening, but this guy sounds rough, and serious, like he might do something. What happens next worries me, but not enough.
Twenty-odd years wasted in this group home just to stay out of trouble, and things get bad anyway. How bad? Run for your damn life, homeless on the streets bad. But maybe I need bad to push me toward something better.
This is about me, Paul Abernathy, fighting for my life, to get it back; and about people like me, the ones...