He was alone. His wife has just gotten a divorce from him. His kids became distant from him. He had nothing. All he could ever think about was getting his wife back, and gaining back the trust of his three daughters. Every time when he tried something it always went wrong and he couldn't do anything right. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and talking to someone about his problems was out of the question; no one understands.
Months past and his depression was getting worse. Nothing could ever make the pain go away unless his wife took him back into her life. After months of trying and making things worse once again he was fighting with his wife. One night when his wife came to pick up the kids they started to fight again. His wife told the kids to wait out in the car until it was time to go.
Finally, his wife got sick of his ways and she moved the kids as far away from him as she could. Days slowly turned into nights, and he finally moved away. He found a less depressing life with a different wife and different kids. After a month of being married he was killed at a construction site.
Weeks after he died his youngest daughter was looking through his old pictures. There was one picture frame in piticular caught her eye. There laid a picture of him in a broken picture frame with a bullet hole through it.
Sorry everyone... I thought that for once I should stop writing my point of view and show you my dad's. Since he isn't here to tell the story himself someone should. Yes this really happened. My mom told me that when they were fighting he took a gun and shot his picture...
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