I was shooting hoops out back, just tryna tune out Ma's drunken cackling inside the trailer as usual watching the Cowboys game. That's when I heard the rumbling of an old pickup truck pulling up.
Dread sunk in my gut as I peered through the rusty screen door. Speak of the devil - it was Big Hank, Ma's "man" who bolted on us years back. He swaggered in like he owned the place.
"Honey, what's for dinner?" he yelled, not even acknowledging me hovering nearby. Ma giggled tipsily at the sight of him. "Oh Hank, I'm so glad you're back! This one's been driving me crazy." She jabbed a thumb in my direction.
Big Hank finally deigned to look at me, his lip curling in disgust. "I can see you still ain't been hitting the gym, chubbo," he sneered as he pulled a bag of white powder from his duffel.
I bristled at the nickname but didn't dare mouth back. This was the deadbeat who skipped out on us after years of abuse, only to waltz right back in like nothing happened. And Ma was estatically welcoming him with open arms.
As Big Hank started loudly cutting lines on the kitchen table, I slipped outside once more - but this time, a dark feeling was brewing in my gut. I was done being a punching bag for these so-called "parents."
I stayed by the screen door, peering in with clenched fists as Big Hank indulged his latest binge.
He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied groan. "Ahh, nothin' like it. This batch is primo yayo, I'm tellin' ya."
Ma fluttered around him like a lovestruck fool, refilling his drink with shaking hands. It made me sick to my stomach. All those years we struggled without him, and here he waltzed back to hog up what little we had.
My glare must've been laser-focused because Big Hank suddenly glanced over, narrowing his beady little eyes. "You got a problem, boy?" he slurred threateningly.
I should've looked away, played it cool like I always did. But something in me snapped at the sight of his sorry, coke-bloated expression.
"Yeah, you suck" i said.
Dead silence fell as Big Hank gaped in disbelief. I knew the beating was coming - but for once, I didn't care. Something had to give in this miserable excuse for a home.
As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd crossed a line. Big Hank's face went darker than a storm cloud, rage twisting his features into a brutal mask.
He rose slow and menacing from his chair, sending it crashing back with a bang. My heart seized in terror but I stood my ground, chin jutting defiantly even as I shook inside.
With a wordless roar Big Hank snatched up the sledgehammer leaning by the door. One, two, three brutal swings and the screen door collapsed in a shower of splinters.
"You see that, boy. You See!!" he shouted out with a laugh, flecks of spit flying as adrenaline pumped through his bulging veins. Without hesitating, he ripped the mangled door entirely off its frame with a primal yell.
Ma was screeching but Big Hank didn't seem to hear - he wound up and launched the ruined door clear across the trailer like it weighed nothing. It smashed straight through our ratty old coffee table in an explosion of broken wood and glass.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch" he said as he left the room.
I locked myself in my tiny room, heart hammerin' like a jackhammer as the chaos raged on out there. Big Hank's crazed howls and smashin' sounds made the whole damn trailer quake.
"No no no," I muttered frantically, stuffin' pillows against the thin walls. But his manic hollerin' burst through clear as day:
"Ohh yeah, this is the good shit baby!" Big Hank bayed in a coke-fueled fever. Glass smashed and wood cracked as he rampaged across the trailer. "Right in the veins, oh FUCK yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about!"
Ma started bawlin' for him to stop, sending him into another rage-filled tirade. I shuddered to think what he might do to her in this state. This was beyond anything I'd seen from him before.