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"Dad, we have to move again."

"What?" he cried, angrily. "Where to this time?"

"Back to Grandma Frances's house," said Carrie. Her eyes were troubled, and Dad caught the sound of her voice. We were all deeply saddened, but Dad got angry.

"What the hell is that man's problem?" he blurted out. "Does he do anything in that house at all? Does he pay any of the bills? What kind of man did your mother marry?" We were silent. He was voicing the same feelings we had but never spoke out loud. To the question about the kind of man Robert was, I wanted to blurt out, The kind that throws Mom into the wall every time he gets mad!<br>
I waited, holding my breath, for Dad to say he would help us out, do anything so that we didn't have to move. Instead he said, "Well, I've given them enough money to build a castle. I pay child support every month to keep you out of messes like these. I've been an enabler, but not this time. Laura made her bed, and she'll have to lie in it! Maybe it will be good for that idiot she married to have to go back to her mamma's with his tail between his legs." He muttered something else that I was glad I couldn't hear, but I saw Jason glance up at him sharply, then out the window.

I was devastated. This was what my father was supposed to do—help us out when we were in trouble. He was supposed to . . . save us! I knew I was being dramatic, but I didn't care. I felt like my whole world was crumbling. I finally had friends and felt safe at my school, and now we were going to have to move. Once again, it was up to me to find a way to survive the mess that my parents had created. I knew it wasn't my dad's fault that we had to move again, but I wanted to blame him.
FROM: Dr. Phil Returns to The Oprah Show: My Father Is a Serial Killer
Published on September 17, 2009

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