Okay; At the time I was homeless and living in what can only be described as Hell. See, I'd been travelling a lot, in search of my grandpa - again. This was in England, of course - I'm not sure where.
I'd been travelling for a long time and had come to stop in this place for a while. I had no where to stay of course, so I went to a hostel sort of place. There, I met some people who said they knew a place I could stay, if I did a few jobs for them here and there - so of course, I went to the place they said...which looked like the kind of neighbourhood that should have been named England's butt crack. There, I met people...I knew they were bad, but I needed to survive. They took me in...
I'm not proud of the things that happened, but I don't regret them. I knew it was Hell for me - and I only did them to survive, and it later put me in touch with my angel, Daz, who saved my life
The things that they asked me to do were pretty bad. Within weeks I was addicted to heroine - within months I was bound to them by my addiction and by foolish misconceptions of their intent. They were druggies. I did take it willingly at first; for the first week of me staying there, they kept me locked inside. When I realised, I obviously tried to escape - that's how I got the scar on the inside of my thigh. But yeah - they kept me locked in, forced me to take heroine injections, and I was hooked. Then...they let me go - but I went back.
I went back because - and I tell you this without a doubt - trying to quit an addiction is like trying to push a sky scraper over with a mini. It's Hell...it's pure Hell. I have enemies and friends - and I would not wish it on either of them. I had a choice of returning to those guys to get more...or to die. Because I'd have killed myself.
They used me for many things. I was their puppet, their play thing when they were bored. I was hooked on heroine completely, and because it owned me, they owned me. I had given up fighting. Given up everything, in fact. But I saw a child and his mother once, through the kitchen window out on the street underneath the tree that hung over the side-walk. It reminded me that I'd planned to have kids some day - three of them. Two girls and a boy. I wasn't gonna get that while I was stuck in that shithole...so I left. I ended up leaving with quite a struggle. In fact it ended up with the guys getting pretty hurt - and me being messed up. But I left, and I continued travelling.
It didn't last long..I was still addicted and went back to those guys. They took me back in - let's face it, I was their puppet, they could do what they wanted while I was addicted. But it didn't stay that way...Daz found me. I don't know what happened, I was out of it at the time. The last thing I remember of them was that I was sitting against the kitchen cupboards high as a kite, and then...I was in hospital. Some dude was sat next to me (which was Daz), who had brought me there, and said that I could stay with him a while. I did, and together we worked out where my grandpa was. I owe that dude my life. He helped me get over the addiction and everything. Without him, I'd be a ruin.
Sometimes, no matter how dark your situation may seem, you must never, NEVER give up. There will always be something to come along and save you. Trust me.
Much love from Anya x
I'd been travelling for a long time and had come to stop in this place for a while. I had no where to stay of course, so I went to a hostel sort of place. There, I met some people who said they knew a place I could stay, if I did a few jobs for them here and there - so of course, I went to the place they said...which looked like the kind of neighbourhood that should have been named England's butt crack. There, I met people...I knew they were bad, but I needed to survive. They took me in...
I'm not proud of the things that happened, but I don't regret them. I knew it was Hell for me - and I only did them to survive, and it later put me in touch with my angel, Daz, who saved my life
The things that they asked me to do were pretty bad. Within weeks I was addicted to heroine - within months I was bound to them by my addiction and by foolish misconceptions of their intent. They were druggies. I did take it willingly at first; for the first week of me staying there, they kept me locked inside. When I realised, I obviously tried to escape - that's how I got the scar on the inside of my thigh. But yeah - they kept me locked in, forced me to take heroine injections, and I was hooked. Then...they let me go - but I went back.
I went back because - and I tell you this without a doubt - trying to quit an addiction is like trying to push a sky scraper over with a mini. It's Hell...it's pure Hell. I have enemies and friends - and I would not wish it on either of them. I had a choice of returning to those guys to get more...or to die. Because I'd have killed myself.
They used me for many things. I was their puppet, their play thing when they were bored. I was hooked on heroine completely, and because it owned me, they owned me. I had given up fighting. Given up everything, in fact. But I saw a child and his mother once, through the kitchen window out on the street underneath the tree that hung over the side-walk. It reminded me that I'd planned to have kids some day - three of them. Two girls and a boy. I wasn't gonna get that while I was stuck in that shithole...so I left. I ended up leaving with quite a struggle. In fact it ended up with the guys getting pretty hurt - and me being messed up. But I left, and I continued travelling.
It didn't last long..I was still addicted and went back to those guys. They took me back in - let's face it, I was their puppet, they could do what they wanted while I was addicted. But it didn't stay that way...Daz found me. I don't know what happened, I was out of it at the time. The last thing I remember of them was that I was sitting against the kitchen cupboards high as a kite, and then...I was in hospital. Some dude was sat next to me (which was Daz), who had brought me there, and said that I could stay with him a while. I did, and together we worked out where my grandpa was. I owe that dude my life. He helped me get over the addiction and everything. Without him, I'd be a ruin.
Sometimes, no matter how dark your situation may seem, you must never, NEVER give up. There will always be something to come along and save you. Trust me.
Much love from Anya x