
“The only time my mother spoke to us was when she was drunk. And she’d tell us we were unwanted. She convinced me to drink with her when I was ten. She told me that it would make me feel better. I started smoking crack when I was twelve. I never learned to read or write. I lost my entire childhood. My friends and I would break into cars, steal whatever we could, and use the money to buy more. It made me feel good and I wanted to feel good all the time. And nobody ever tried to stop me.”
(Santiago, Chile)
Published on March 20, 2017 21:35