If You Don't Want Me Here, Let Me Go

After five years that I've been into this world, my real parents finally tracked me down.

When they found me, I was scarfing down a burger from a food truck in the street. My own father stared at me like I was some punk.

My mother, on the other hand, was crying her eyes out as she stared at me—at a face that was practically a carbon copy of hers.

Behind them stood their golden boy Dave Graham, who'd been living the life I was supposed to have.

Right then, his eyes were daring me.

"My son! Oh, you've been through so much all these years! Come, come home with us now!"