Teenager is so homeless she got kicked out of a crack house.

She said I could write about what I saw of her life while I was on vacation, so don’t think that she’s going to die when she reads this, although I don’t know how she could read this, unless she can pick up wifi from her park bench.



This is a crack house.

As seen through the windshield of the van I was driving from across the street where she asked that I pick her up because “the driveway is too dangerous.”

She was living with the family of one of her old friends, but things got really weird and I don’t know whose fault it is or what happened exactly but she called me as I was travelling East and said “I’m homeless.”

I said “Not sure what you want me to do.”

To which she replied, “Nothing, just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t freak out if you couldn’t find me.”


She spent some of her nights on a couch in an apartment in the local crack house, which is no joke as she watched 15 year old kids shooting up and when we took one of the other homeless kids to the beach with us one day he talked about how he had been asleep at the crack house and guys he didn’t know showed up in the middle of the night and talked about pissing on everyone there and then ended up just spitting in his ear instead.

Yes, this is where my daughter was sleeping at night and then taking her backpack which held all her belongings to the park where she would hang out all day.

Then she got kicked out because her abusive ex boyfriend called the people at the crack house and told them that if they let her sleep there again he would call the cops on them.

Now there must be different rules than the ones I remember, because I would think that they would all go kill him in his sleep for threatening them at all, but instead my kid was kicked out of the crack house.

I helped her pack all her things and take them from the house she was first staying in to Grandpa’s house and store them in plastic tubs until she finds a place to be.    Then I bought her a charger cord for her phone and some socks.  She got mad at me one day and said “You keep buying me stuff, but that’s not what I need!”

But I can’t give her what she needs.  She has to do that herself.  I CAN give her socks.  And make homeless jokes.  And crack house jokes.  And hope that she’s okay.


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