Who She Once Was - cabbage.trash.kid👑 - Wattpad

Who She Once Was

riahvillanueva143

LECTURAS 137
Votos 0
Partes 9
Hora 37m

LECTURAS 137
Votos 0
Partes 9
Hora 37m

riahvillanueva143

abuse drugs homeless triggered

My life revolved around: pain, drugs and lies. Then there's my drug addicted mother and a no show father. Most girls had a kingdom of rainbows and unicorns. My kingdom had  heroin needles and meth pipes. I was 15 years old when I saw my first shooting. I was 10 when I had my first taste of alcohol. I live in the ghetto. "The Hood" the tough side of town. It's home. If I can survive that kind of life I can get through anything. If you're looking for a sweet tale of love and kisses this isn't the story for you. Sorry.Todos los derechos reservados

abuse drugs homeless triggered

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Toke chronic als de tokeman7

Story of a recovering heroine/crack cocaine addict. From homeless junkie on the streets of Harrisburg Pennsylvania, Pensacola Florida and other places. Hopping on trains to get around with everything I owned on my back for 20 years of caos I went through. Then to a full born again Christian in recovery for over 10 years. How I beca no me 100% self made. After being mostly homeless for 20 years living wherever I could including under bridges. How I got hooked and how I got unhooked. Some names were changed for there privacy.

Sincerely Luna Rose de writerbug44

Dear Nobody, My name is Luna Rose Wesley and I'm just like any other girl my age. I have some secrets, I'm afraid of the future, I have some complicated relationships and some amazing friends, and I'm just trying to do anything that I can to survive. But as the days pass, it seems like surviving in my world is becoming more difficult with every minute. You see, without any money, my family is forced to live in in an apartment building that's smack dab in the center of our rundown part of the city. And my mother is just a work of art. She is now addicted to drugs, and she isn't trying very hard at all to try to get us out of our inner-city situation. Living in constant fear, not only of what's outside my window at night, but also of my violent dealing brother living in the room across the hall, I have to find a way to cope without putting a bullet in my skull like so many of my fallen brethren. And my coping mechanism is to write letters to nobody- to you- and sending it to an address that doesn't exist. I need somebody to talk to without that somebody thinking that I'm looking for pity, so I've found you. Nobody. Thanks for listening. Sincerely, Luna Rose (Rated Mature for the mentioning of sex, drug use, violence, and profane language. Does not contain actual sex scenes.)

Creekside de DashawnFair

I could remember there was always liquor or beer, coke in the plastic, dope in the rice though, and weed in the dutches; some may have crack inside, so keep your lips off people's stuff. Growing up in the projects, you learn to keep your mouth shut and never to say what you saw in the hood. My mother got pregnant by my father when my grandmother was at work, thinking her boyfriend was watching her teenage daughter. My father raped my mother before leaving the house forever, only for my mother to be covered in blood on the bed for hours. She was too shocked to move and too young to understand what had happened to her. My mother got pregnant at fourteen, gave birth at fifteen, and joined the local gang for support and family by sixteen. Growing up fast with hard times, my mother had a case worker and was in every line available for a teenage mother to get public assistance while I played in her belly. I was born at Upstate Hospital on E. Adams St. in Syracuse, New York, in August on the eighth day of eighty-eight. Unlike the other infants in the nursery when I was born, I was going home to the projects. No warm blankets or crib were waiting for me, only filthy sheets and wet pillows, roaches, mice, drug deals, and gunshots at night. Never the one to do drugs or drink, my mother would be forced to breastfeed me because she did not have food herself many nights. W.I.C. helped, but she sold most items in the hood for cash or things we needed. Forced into a life of crime by seventeen years old, my mother was an official member of the local gang that ruled our neighborhood. My name is Rose; I was born from the concrete. This is my story.

𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟏 de LuxeInkedbyTee

"Kassauni, there is more to life than continuous pain and suffering. I am sure you know that, and no one is asking you to go through it alone," She told me. I took a long drag from the blunt and held it in my lungs before releasing it. "Whatever yah talk 'bout sound like a fairy tale and mi nuh want yuh feel like me is a problem fi yuh fix," I stated, staring into her eyes. She frowned, deeply. "You need to talk to someone, or me. I am here for you if you need anything." Her voice came out softer than usual. "Rosalia, left that. It nuh concern yuh," I told her. She hissed her teeth and slapped the blunt out of my hand. "Mi try talk to yuh, but if yuh nah go at least try to get help then mi nuh need fi deh here. Stay by yuhself since a that yuh fucking want." She turned and started walking away. // He was abandoned by his parents. Time and time again they let him down, not realizing that each time it was draining him. He isn't the most sentimental guy, probably one of the most nonchalant and controlling people you've ever met. She was sweet and came from what people would call the perfect family. In a short time, she made him indecisive and question himself. Peeled away every armor he had shielding his insecurities. She broke him but stood by him while he rebuilt himself into a better man. The man he always wanted to be. The man he knew she deserved. _______________________________ - Mature Content (18+) - Violence

It Wasn't Love ✔️ de depressedn0nce

"Fuck." He whispers into my neck, sending a thrill of excitement through my body. His lips still smothered kisses over my neck and his hands roamed my body, starting at my chest, going down to my stomach. Caressing my soft skin, his thumb trailed circles on my groin before slightly slipping into the waistband of my jeans. My breath catches in my throat as I pull at the hoodie that covered his chiselled body. Understanding, Jacob pulls it off in one swift movement before attaching his lips back on my neck. Sucking and biting it before flicking his tongue over the sore spot. A quiet moan leaves my mouth and I clasp my hand over it, denying any noise to escape. "You drive me fucking crazy, Aria." ---------------------------- Aria Bailey finds it hard to fit in. Her parents are always busy and never have time for her. She lives alone at her family home and has top grades in all of her classes. But being a 17 year old friendless nerd comes with its disadvantages. The bullying gets worse every single day, driving her to self harm and suicidal thoughts. Aria learns more about popular boy, Jacob Rickson and starts developing feelings for the well known 18 year old. Jacob helps her come out of her shell and learn to be more comfortable and confident. Aria has to make a tough decision by choosing if she would rather be with Jacob and be bullied by her mind for eternity, or to leave and be left alone, exactly how she wants to be. -Strangers to lovers -Right person, wrong time

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Run, Fight, Repeat de BellaGrace568

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Moving In de _CallMe_Crazy

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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟏 cover

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The Daughter Of A Gang Leader cover

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Toke chronic als

Story of a recovering heroine/crack cocaine addict. From homeless junkie on the streets of Harrisburg Pennsylvania, Pensacola Florida and other places. Hopping on trains to get around with everything I owned on my back for 20 years of caos I went through. Then to a full born again Christian in recovery for over 10 years. How I beca no me 100% self made. After being mostly homeless for 20 years living wherever I could including under bridges. How I got hooked and how I got unhooked. Some names were changed for there privacy.