↓ Transcript
He looks nervously over his shoulder back toward the living room, where his dad continues to sleep. He's waiting for a pizza slice to finish heating in the microwave. The kitchen is filthy--papers, beer bottles, and soda cans are strewn about. The dishes haven't been done in a while. On the fridge, there are polaroids, a magnetic calendar with the date of June 1995, and alphabet magnets spelling the name "Eric."

Before the microwave can beep, the boy opens it. Steam billows out. He carefully takes out the plate, only to burn his hands.

He drops it. The plate shatters.