Walking down the tainted black road, I kick the pebbles and watch them roll away. I've always walked home, ever since first grade in fact. My mother was always busy and my father left ages ago so who knows where he is. Plus my mother is always busy keeping my little brother, Alvin, occupied. My grandmother is always here so she is like Mom #2. I honestly think that I talk to her more than I talk to my real mom. She's always giving me advise and telling me that I'm perfect the way I am, but I know that the "perfect" stuff is fake. Like I'm perfect, ME? Never.