I was a damn near high school grad when my paranoid parents decided that I no longer needed to be babysat. By then, the damage had been done. I don’t blame mom and dad for entrusting me in my aunt’s care. She was a charismatic bitch who meant business, although never striking anyone as a lady who liked kids. She wore a dainty white cowboy hat and a big bedazzled belt buckle, made a living renting out the dank unfinished b...