Gone hunting

Whenever my family would go hunting or fishing, there was like a “phase” at 10 o’clock at night; we would all gather stuff that we needed like: guns, ammo, and earplugs; cooler full of coca cola or root beer, any food we had, water, ice since we enjoyed soda; and my mother, who was very energetic and crazy, would always get beer for herself. To this day, I think that my mom has a problem; alcohol and possibly drugs, I haven’t seen her in a long while, but a couple years ago she came into Michigan and stayed at a hotel where she ran around and “took any bottle of alcohol that was left out or unsupervised.” - her words.
I’ve always hated my mother.
I could never get any sleep the night before we went out into the desert for any reason; I would always get excited and energetic. I would stand in my bedroom and just watch them pack stuff in the car, through the window, like a detective; I was hoping that I would see any clues or evidence so I could know what we’re doing. My family loves to go hunting and fishing;
I would get up early in the morning to do whatever we were doing; even though, I stayed up the entire night due to my curiosity and excitement.
My mom and dad asked me as soon as they could, every time we went somewhere to use the bathroom, “we aren’t stopping on the way” is what my dad said every time. As we left I would stare at the small town of Artesia and think it was a city due to all the lights emitting in the pink morning sky. I felt like I was in Los Vegas or New York. The town line that separated us from the rest of the desert was next to an oil refinery; I considered the edge of the town to be at a small bridge above a river.
It was enjoyable to leave town. I liked riding in the car out to the middle of the desert; the sky was pink and the sun on the sand was golden. Due to the calm and peaceful environment mixed with my lack of sleep, I decided to take a nap for the car ride.
When we finally got to our destination everyone was hyper; my mom was jumping around on her car seat, my sisters were screaming at each other, my dad was talking very loudly towards whoever, but I was very sleepy and calm so I just sat and listened. My sisters are very stressful; anytime we did anything they would either be yelling at each other or physically fighting each other; This went on day after day. Whenever they got into a fight my mom or nanna would put me between them while my dad would let them fight it out; It was scary to be between the “Little demons” at the time and I ended up with a scar from when my sister cut off some skin on my cheek with her nails. My confidence had vanished; all that was left was pain and fear.
When we got to hunt, my mom and sisters would stay behind, due to fear; my dad and I would go hunting, like men. We would hunt for doves and rabbit, as my dad shot them down I would run after them and kill them; I would run after them, find them, snap their necks, then twist off the head. While looking for them, I would often come across snakes and little puddles of water that had tadpoles and frogs; finding stuff like this was really fascinating and lead to me being a more curious and interested person. To someone from the desert finding a puddle or small pond full of life was like a person from Michigan finding a waterfall.
We would do this till late at night when the sun is gone the stars come out; we could no longer see without a flashlight. It was fun heading back to our rusty old van to pluck the feathers and skin off of our soon to be cooked meal. My mom hated this part and she became a feminist and an activist towards the killing of animals and how it was cruel to kill. Then we headed back home. From this I learned my own sensitivity, boundaries, and how to help myself in life; my mom also changed from this, for the worse.