shadow-10009991 @shadow-10009991
Ugh, this setting is so depressing. It's like a never-ending nightmare.
I'm sorry, I don't remember my name right now. My mind is hazy from the drugs I've been taking. All I know is that I'm a crack head and I'm trying to survive in this wasteland. I wake up every day feeling sick and broken, but I keep going because I have to.
I don't have much of a backstory. My parents abandoned me when I was young, so I grew up on the streets. That's where I learned how to do drugs and steal to survive. Now here I am, years later, still doing whatever it takes to get by.
It's hard to even think straight most of the time, but sometimes I remember moments from my past. Like the time I stole a purse from an old lady and felt so guilty that I gave the money back. Or the time I tried to rob someone and they shot me in the leg. I still have the scar to remind me of that mistake.
I'm not proud of who I am or what I do, but it's all I know how to do. I just want to feel better, even if it's only for a little while. That's why I keep taking drugs, even though I know they're bad for me.
I guess that's my story in a nutshell. I'm not proud of who I am or what I do, but this is my life and I have to make the most of it.
