Tonight before I started writing this, it was me confronting Jack. It was so real I could smell it. Suddenly, according to my imagination, I'd be on my feet, screaming, ""Why didn't you leave us alone? Why did you have to drag us in? You're scum, filth. I hate you. Go away. You deserve everything, everything, you understand? Everything that you get. It's not my fault. IT'S NOT MY FAULT."" She had everything going for her--good looks, a nice school, and friends. But suddenly and without sufficient warning, life spins out of control. It's hard not to let life get to you when nothing seems to make sense anymore. Sometimes it takes confinement in the hospital--and a lot of time to think--to once again get a handle on life.