I know he looks at me and thinks I don't remeber. But I do.

The day was hot and I was bored. I was watching T.V. Nothing unusual.

I had known that he had an addiction for quite a while. Knowing didn't change the fact that I was being lied to. That when he said he was going to the store he was going to his drug dealer.

As I watch the cartoon on the television my stepmom tells me to help him get the garbage ready. My father and I load it up in the back of the suburban.

Immediately I walk back to the television to finish my show.
"Honey do you want to go with me to the dumpster to put the trash away."It's just around the corner, why does he need my help?"

"I kind of want to finish my show."

He nods and walks out.

Did I know that that would be the last time I would see him for a week. How was I supposed to know that he was going to leave us to go on a drug benge. How was I supposed to know that I would spend the rest of my life regreting that I didn't go to the dumpster with my father.

Why didn't I just go. It would've been very simple. I would've missed five minutes of my show. The selfishness overtook me at that moment in time.

How was I supposed to know that I would blame myself for that for the rest of my life. How was I supposed to know that he would call to say that he's too ashamed to come home to us. How was I supposed to know that when we went to the convenient store to pick him up he wouldn't know where the car was and he would smell so bad and look so pitiful.

But was it my fault? Was it all my fault that he felt more compelled to go shoot up then to come have dinner with his family. Was it my fault that he didn't care enough to spend the one week that he missed of our visit with his children.

Was it any of our faults?