I grew up poor. And when I say poor, I mean poor. I was homeless. My parents had abandoned me when I was just a toddler. My uncle had managed to raise me himself, but eventually he died when I was just 13 years old. I didn't want to move into a foster home, and definitely not an orphanage, so I decided to run away. I learned to live on my own, and I managed to get by. But it was hard. Very hard. Let me tell you my story.

It was hard learning how to survive on my own. I only had a few belongings, and no money at all. It was also pretty dangerous for a young girl like me to live out on the streets. But I taught how to defend myself, and pretty soon I was part of a gang of homeless people, and we all looked out for each other.

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