Beggar
six years ago
––––––––
THE STREETS OF WASHINGTON is silent right now, more colder than the few nights when I was stuck sleeping at the river.
I hate sleeping at that f*****g place.
My feet are paining as I walk down toward the club this w***e Patricia sent me to.
Bitch better not be wasting my time. I just turned sixteen with no education, no damn job.
I'm living on the streets with no warm clothes, no food, f**k, I don't even know when is the last time I brushed my teeth before today. The mechanism should be foreign to me by now. It would if I didn't go to school when I was younger, made it to the sixth grade before life turned f****d up and my mother died of cancer.
At twelve I was thrown in the system like the nobody's kid I became.
I told the social worker I didn't want
