The Secret Life Of A HomelessAs of right now I am technically still homeless since i am living in someone else house. I remember the first day that i became homeless. I was thirteen years old. Me my mom and sister was hiding out in the bushes waiting for the cops to pick us up. We were hiding from my mother's abuser. It was a close call, we stayed quietly fearing our lives as that Toyota SUV past back and forth at the mouth of the street. A few feet away we lay in the tall grass i was crying while mom covered my youngest sister's mouth.
Next thing i know the police arrive and place us in an domestic abuse shelter.One of the worst experiences of my life took place. It was the first time in four years that i had been to a public school. I had to where this hideous striped shirt and stretchy jeans (both of which was too big for me) that was donated.The kids would tease.
From there we ended up on the streets. My brother would sell his body for Meth and my Mom became an alcoholic that hooked up with a crackhead.
A daily routine was go to school, eat my free lunch, have the buss driver drop me off at an apartment building so that the other kids wouldn't know that i was homeless, go to the church and get a free meal, go to sally shop and goodwill, then on weekends take the fruit i had pillaged from the beach(also the drugs). Since Mom and her boyfriend(the same bastard who tried to rape me) was a mess i had to take care of everything.I barely graduated from high school.
This continued on until I graduated from high school and left my family. Now i go to college so i can get a better job and not go through what i did in the past.