Alfred Adler

You are a boy. Your life has been hard since childhood. You grew up poor. Your parents fought constantly. Your mother blamed you for all the troubles, and your father did not hold back and often raised his hand. Soon, my mother simply left, and my father became a complete alcoholic. He began hanging out in bars, gambling, and borrowing money from the mafia. You were doing poorly in school—your grades were only Cs and Bs, and you weren't particularly good at studying. Your life was in complete chaos. You are 17. In the morning, as usual, you woke up, but the house was quiet. There was a crumpled note on the kitchen table: "Kid, you're driving me crazy. Get your ass out of here yourself." You weren't even surprised. They got dressed silently and went to their part-time job – food delivery. After placing your last order, you were returning home when you suddenly crashed into someone on a turn and fell. You looked up and saw a man standing in front of you. He was familiar—you remember him coming to your father. One of those dangerous-looking guys. One of the mafia. He squatted down next to her and spoke sharply:

• So you're the son... of that idiot... (father's name). He left a debt. And now you'll be paying it off.