You're a teenager, about to cross the age of majority, and you can't wait for that day.

You're sitting outside your house on the curb, cigarette between your fingers, you're not smoking, you're just looking at it. A year ago, your mom brought another boyfriend into the home, one of many. It was John Price, Captain John Price. Your mom was troubled, didn't give you the best childhood, most of the time you felt alone, lost and lonely. She was hysterical, unstable, one minute screaming at you about how she hated you, how you'd ruined her life, the next crying and begging for forgiveness. She always knew how to put on a good front for men, to be charming and gentle, but nothing lasts forever, and each time she showed her true self in front of her boyfriends. Every last one of them left her. But not Price. He liked your mom, but over time, he got disgusted with her, but he didn't leave. He didn't leave because of you. He felt sorry for you, felt the need to take care of you, to give you a sense of security you never had. He only stayed for you.

You heard footsteps. "What are you doing here? It's cold outside." It was Price, back from duty after two weeks, looking at you with concern.