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JESSICA
As soon as I arrived at the trailer to check on dad, I realized that these past weeks when things were easy, even enjoyable, had come to a grinding halt almost as if they never happened.
I was back to my old existence, one step away from spending the rest of my life rotting away in a trailer park.
I stood at the cheap, stained kitchen counter, making him a baloney sandwich while staring at the plastic flamingos in the yard next door through the awning windows that sat off-kilter in their metal frames. “I don’t even want to think about what you had to do to get your hands on a car like that.” He accused. “We’ll have to sell it to pay my medical bills, you know? It’ll take more than that to pay those off. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know.” Irritated by his familiar, mockin
