I have never had a normal life. My mother was a prostitude because se could not find any jobs, and my father was an alkoholic. So it was up to me and my older sister to hang on, and do well in our everyday life. And ofcause we had to try to do well in school. But the time passed my father became more and more violent. And started hitting both my mother and sister. And then one day it became enough, and my sister moved home to her new boyfriend. And what was is suppose to do? And now i really lost the way in school. So the only thing I knew how to do was to paint. So when i was at home with my drunk and violent father, i just began painting because i did not know what else to do. But then the day arrived, I came home from school and my father was lying on the floor with a bottle in his hand, and I quick understood that he was finally dead. So i packed my stuff and began living on the streets.
One day when I was sitting in a ally painting a young man came by and saw my paints. Then he asked me if i made Graffiti and i ofcause answerd ”no”. So he asked me to join him, and paint on some trains. I thougt to myself ”why not, i do not have anything else to do”. When we arrived at the train station we had to walk past som scrub and climb over some fence. And there they were the big red trains all ready to get some paint. We started painting and became faster and faster friends, he told me that he was also living on the streets and that both his parents was in jail. And that he had run away from his foster family a few years ago.
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