Rachel, damn it, stop. I love you. Please, don't do this. I don't, I don't know what to do. I don't have time to work this through. I'm not gonna be here in a year to help. You got a bastard of a father who was never around and then went off and had a new baby. Your mom got remarried to a creep. She works too much. You got a raw deal, all right? Why not get high? No one gives a damn about you anyway. I know how that feels. I remember being fourteen and pissed off at my dad and the world. What are you gonna do when I'm not here? Who is gonna keep you from killing yourself?
He's going to die soon. Very soon. If you keep on like this, you're gonna miss what little time you have left with him. This is it, Rachel. This is your last chance. And if you blow it, you're gonna end up hating yourself for the rest of your life.
I was trying to figure out what I should have already told you, but I never have. Something important, something every father should impart to his daughter. I finally got it: generosity. Be generous, with your time, with your love, with your life.