Switch sat in the passenger seat of his fathers pickup truck. Leaving the downtown area of Sea Salt Bay behind. It was yet another one of those drives. Silent and tense. How it had always been with his father. He was just a sad alcoholic anyway. Switch felt no closeness to him. As far as Switch could tell, Divos father was much the same way, though he never talked about his life at home. When it came to Divo, it was probably boring and lame. The short drive to their neighbourhood had never been longer. 

"You got yourself into another fight again didn't you boy." said Switchs father.

[color=violet]"Shut up dad!"[/color]shouted Switch.

"Whatever" his father answered.

"No point in givin a damn. You're gonna be a loser anyway. Ain't nothin gonna change that." his father stated.

[color=violet]"I said shut up!"[/color] Switch shouted again.

"Have it your way loser. You're moving out as soon as this high school shit is over. Don't care if you're gonna be a bum on the streets, which is probably what's gonna happen. Just don't come begging for money." asked his father.

[color=violet]"What do you know old man."[/color] Switch answered.

"I know a loser when I see one. Now once we get home, you're gonna cook us dinner. And it better be damn good." demanded Switchs father.

[color=violet]"Or what old man?"[/color] Switch challenged.

"Or say good bye to your losermobile." he threatened.

Switchs motorcycle was in the middle of being repaired in his backyard. He had to ask his old man for a ride school that morning. The only person in the world he could turn to was also the last person in the world he would ever turn to, such was his luck.

[color=violet]"The only losermobile is this old beat up hunk of junk you call a truck."[/color] retorted Switch.

"Whatever loser." said his father.

The rest of the ride home was as bitter as it was silent. What hurt Switch the most wasn't how mad his father got. It was how apathetic he turned out to be. It seemed that his own father, the only person he had in the world, had completely given up on him. Whateve, Switch thought to himself. As soon as he turned eighteen, he was gonna ride off into the sunset and be the baddest dude around. The world ain't gonna deny that. 

Switch contemplated how he was going to create a nice meal with a can of olives, a shaker of salt, and a couple of tins of spam. Liberally applying alcohol always worked. It always gave the meal some much needed extra flavour. It was decent enough for what it was, though Switch couldn't remember the last time he had a decent meal.

And so they drove on, into the bleakness that was their lives.