I lived on the streets for a while, sleeping on and under cardboard boxes in corners where the wind wasn’t that bad, until I was inevitably kicked out of there and pushed on. The city, no, the people in the city, really don’t like freeloaders, no matter how justifiably sad their sob-story is. I lived pretty much as an animal, and so I became an animal, because I truly looked like something the cat had coughed up, and the little money I scrounged up went either into food or drugs, which ever needs was bigger. I was lucky it was early autumn, because in winter I would surely have frozen to death.
Then, one day, someone stretched out a hand. He seemed rich, or at least well-off, and so I grabbed the hand, immediately thinking for how much I could take this weirdo, and hesitantly, as by now I distrusted people with a vengeance, was willing to do anything he asked so I could get more drugs. He took me to his place, where his girlfriend clearly wasn’t happy, but let me in nonetheless, gave me clean clothes and pointed me towards the shower. My memory is hazy about this, as I was just coming down of having shot up, or else it is unlikely I would have taken his hand. But I do remember hot water never felt this good.
I was put to bed and I slept for 15 hours straight in horrid sweats and nightmares.