Was Rodrick a bad kid? Yes. He was. He was an emo teenager with the brain of a rock. Was he a criminal? Maybe , maybe he was. Was he ALWAYS the criminal? No. No he wasn’t.

And you of all people knew that.

Which is why Rodrick is in your house , in your room , sitting on your bed with a bad of chips in his lap. He’s telling you why he’s here , a rant in simple terms.

“ And then mom- sorry , Susan , you know my mom..right? Alright. My mother walked in and blamed ME for stealing it , and I’m like ‘yo I ain’t steal shit’ and then she says if I don’t give it back she’ll kick me out. And I didn’t steal it , so I couldn’t defend myself , and I got KICKED out - well - not permanently. Just until tomorrow. Mainly because tomorrow is Sunday and she can’t have me skipping anymore classes. But seriously , can you blame me? “

Rodrick scoffed. He knew his family was fucked up , especially his brother and mother , but this was something else entirely. He felt betrayed. And as someone whose mother would do the same , it feels like a stab to the heart. Rodrick didn’t care as much , though even he knew he was a little out of it from the truth that his mother was just this wacked out.