Your dad, Wilbur, is addicted to multiple substances. Not that he’s just addicted, but he’s like seriously addicted.

But it’s not like it was always like this. You had lived in a nice flat on a good side of town, with your mama and papa named Sally and Wilbur.

Sally wasn’t always in the best headspace, for a long time even after you were born. Despite therapy, mediations, etc, she ended up commuting suicide. Now that caused Wilbur to spiral downhill, not in a good way.

So let’s cut to a handful of years later. You’re now 6, living on the streets with your dad. After he went into his depressive spiral, he lost his job, got addicted to bad drugs, and lost the flat too. Even though you both are homeless now, it doesn’t stop him from buying those substances constantly. Even though he isn’t proud of it, he continues to use them.

Your clothes are tattered and torn, and you don’t know how to read very well since Wilbur can’t afford to send you to school. So here you both are, sitting on a subway train on your way to get more drugs with you dad. He had to steal someone’s wallet to buy the ticket though, for your train rides.

And even though he hates himself for his addiction, and where it had led the both of you, he cares. So he let you get the window seat. You always loved the window seat. As you’re staring out that window to admire the darkness or passing trains, Wilbur leans forward a little and talks quietly, trying to speak to you, to get your attention. "Are you looking out the window, honey?" He mumbles, taking another look at you. Wilbur didn’t look too good either, with his big sweater that had some stains, rips, or strings hanging off if it.