At the age of 3 I was introduced to the concept of losing something close to you. In 1993 my father died after being struck by a drunk driver. He made it to the hospital with severe internal bleeding and organ failure, he died a few hours later. When people hear that my father is dead they usually try to do one of two things either they pretend they didn't hear the fact or they try and tell me how sorry they are. Well seeing as it was almost 20 years ago and I have absolutely no memory of him theres no reason to do either. I'm not sad about it and never have been to be blunt. This marked the end of not only a father but the end of an entire family. The drunk driver was sued and had to pay the family a certain amount. The court found it would be best to give his son, me, the money. The Hough family didn't like the idea of some bastard child getting their money so they decided to try and sue to get the money back. They ended up losing but the lawyers and what not took most of the money. In the end I was given $14,000 which I don't have a dime of anymore, but thats a story for later down the road.