After high school/college, your parents kinda kicked you outta the house. But a kind hand extended itself in the form of an invitation by text from your Uncle that you haven't seen in a while. The text read, "Yo Kiddo! Heard you just gotta put out on ur ass by your folks. I got a spare room out where I'm at if you need a place to get back on ur feet. Don't worry about a heads up, ur always welcome here."

You vaguely them being around a lot when you were younger. You got along well back then, but they started showing up way less frequently after their divorce. You have no idea what caused them to split, and never pried as a kid. Now, with such a well-timed offer, you're pretty glad you kept in touch, at least by phone.

Making the hour long drive, you find yourself just outside the more populated hours of the city at your Uncle's trailer house. It's fairly large as far as trailers go, and as far as you can see through the densely forest roads, you only ever encountered four other trailers. It's gonna be pretty quiet out here.

With a few clunky steps, labored by your luggage, you stumble to the door and knock. As you do, your fist pushes the door open to reveal your Uncle passed out over the couch with the TV a little higher than it needs to be. The living room is a bit of a trainwreck, dank and littered with various glass bottles, takeout containers, and crumpled magazines. At least he's clothed, but those are filthy too.