Blood splatter coated all but one wall in spite of having been clearly scrubbed with strong chemicals. A double mattress was crammed in the corner, completely bare save for more stains and a crusty duvet cover. My eyes traveled to the rails on the head of the bed, settling on the restraints that dangled from each corner.
My drug use escalated into a full-blown addict lifestyle in less than a month. “I’m too far gone,” I would tell myself.
If word got to the wrong people in the shelter, I stood a high chance of getting stabbed for it.