A possible story in the works

How bad is your life? Have you really thought about it? What do you have to deal with that would make you so low?

Do you have food? Do you have clothes?

Of course you have clothes. You're crying over the shirt that doesn't fit just right, or the pants that now have a hole. You're picky with the meal your mom has made you.

What about the kids in Africa? Starving. Naked.
What about the countles number of families whose parents have lost a job. Hungry.
I am guilty. I am selfish. And my tears of sadness aren't helping me or anyone else.

I never knew what it felt like to worry about when my next meal would be, until I found myself so broke I was living out of a coin jar. I walk across the street to the grocery store. The man at the bakery sees the hunger in my eyes. "I only have two dollars, what can I buy?" He gives me an extral roll. The next week he sells me a slice of bread "Not too big" I say. This morning he gives it to me for free. Does he know how much that slice means? Does he know this is probably going to be my only meal for the day?
I pull 25 dollars out of the bank. For food? Of course not. Its for the drugs. If I pulled it out for food I'd spend it all too fast. At least the drugs will pass the time until my next pay check. My boyfriend offers to buy me food, I decline. I sneak food now and then. I've thought about going to restaruants and just leaving without paying. I'm too stubborn to ask for help. Life isn't about anything but survival these days.
MJ