TAMMY
                         Charles acts out his anger in a
                         very self-destructive manner. 
                         Saturday mornings I run errands,
                         and I every time I go, I tell him
                         the exact time I'll be back.  So
                         last weekend I come home, fifteen
                         minutes late, with a plastic bag of
                         groceries in one hand and my keys
                         in the other.  I push open the
                         front door and there are shards of
                         glass just everywhere, and there's
                         blood -- a lot of blood.  He's
                         overturned the glass-topped kitchen
                         table, and he's cut himself with
                         the shards.  I tell you, there are
                         such awful demons in him when he's
                         by himself.  And he just doesn't
                         know how to deal with them without
                         me.  Honestly, I'm afraid to leave
                         him alone now.  I don't know what
                         he'll do.  I don't know what I
                         should do myself.  I suppose, I'll
                         keep telling Charles that I love
                         him.  Charles?  C'mere!  C'mere! 
                         Yes, I love you too!  Yes, I've got
                         a chicken-flavored doggie treat for
                         you!