Both had grown up in a constant state of flux, wandering from toddler-hood, to childhood, and into the heavier, awkward clumps of adolescence with a gaping hole where a coherent sense of self might have been.  Both had spent their entire young lives wondering why Mommy Was So Sad, what those noises were behind her bedroom door

Suicide what does that mean i heard that kid say it today at school when he was telling us how he and his dad had found his older sister in an overflowing bathtub staring up at the ceiling with pink water running across the floor and one arm with this long cut in it flopped over the side so suicide meant DEAD, and gone, and what was happening behind that closed door and would there be red flowing from under it

during the hours, sometimes days, when he spent his daylight hours building models, the TV blaring, occasionally wandering into the kitchen to grab whatever food was within reach.