I looked at the photographs one by one, finding them to be distasteful but I couldn't summon up any deep resentment or anger any more. It was like the...pictures were of two strangers instead of one stranger and one loved one. As such, they were just examples of low-grade pornography.It occurred to me I didn't want these left behind just in case I died over in Afghanistan and someone had to go through my personal things. Impulsively, I pushed everything else back into the box and closed it,. When I look at my Maureen I see this beautiful bright woman who still makes me smile when she enters a room. Maybe I am a silly old man, who knows. At 19 Maureen became pregnant with our first child, Michael Peter O’Finneran. That was one of the happiest days in my life. To be holding this small person who will be depending on us for everything, food, shelter, love, you name it. That thought is probably the most singularly sobering idea one person could ever be faced with. Michael was the first. One of shame. She could not stop admonishing herself for the growing desire she knew she was feeling at the thought of sleeping with her own father. Not only him, but him and another man at the same time. How could she feel any excitement at such a prospect?Silently scolding herself she turned a little beneath the shower and that was when she became aware of her audience.The shower had a frosted glass door, one that did little more than blur the view in either direction, and both her father and. I look down and my heart sunk. Greg, the reason I came here, the strange mansion, the fact I was fighting this demon, Officer Bullet and everything that has been happening all rushed back to me as I saw the symbol on the rug branded on my chest as a demonic voice emanated from the girl. “You’re my property.” I bucked the hell out of there. I ran passed the lobby and straight for the doors. I could hear a chipper and polite “Byeeee, see you again next time.” Before I ran out the mansion and.