(Sigh) (Janice bends down placing a single rose on a freshly covered grave)
             I, uh, I'm sorry I didn't make it for the funeral, I, uh wasn't sure that you'd want me to be there. I had some work to do anyway. Things are always busy at the social service department. Like right now, there's this little girl, her name is Laura, she's only five and she's the kid of child that you just want to cuddle. She has big, sad, brown eyes, and you can tell she's not like other kids. She lacks the life and spark of a healthy child; she has the look of a child who knows that they're not wanted. I know that look, I saw it every day when I was growing up; all I had to do was look in the mirror. But Laura is lucky, she won't have to grow up like me, I found her a home today. A good home, she won't hurt anymore and maybe, just maybe, she won't grow up to be like me. She won't have to wonder if she was ever loved, she won't have to wonder if she's crazy or if her mothers the crazy one.
             The Triborough Bridge, do you remember that mother? The day you tried to kill me? We were on our way to the airport, you were taking me to meet my plane so that I could go see dad in Paris. Grandpa was in the front seat and I was in the back, and you stopped the car and look right at grandpa and said get out of the car I'm going to kill her. He thought you were kidding, but I knew better, I knew that you'd hated me since the day I was born. Some how you actually convinced him to get out of the car, we were in the middle of New York City and you made him get out and walk. When you took off again I was afraid to speak, I thought that maybe you'd just forget I was there and drive on but you didn't. Suddenly you started screaming, I just looked out the window, I didn't know what else to do, I was only sixteen for God's sake.
             ...