After mom’s accident, I had to leave hell- home in search of paradise. It was never a home in the first place. I ran into the street, and it welcomed me in open arms.


My first night on the street, I learnt how to smoke. The only way to ease my pain is to wrap my fears into rolls of marijuana, smoke them, and watch the flames ascend to the sky like a ram offered in prayer.

I was told, that the only way to have zero worries is to find satisfaction in the content of gin bottles, and drink away my sorrows. There was so much joy and peace on the street than I ever found in the place called home.

To survive on the street, you have to be stone- hearted. Those whose hearts are soft as silk have their life hanging on their sleeves. On the street, respect is not reciprocal.

You earn it, but not without bloodshed. I remember how I almost got killed on the night when some guys planned a coup. To survive, you have to learn the art of pocket -picking, that is the only way to guarantee the next meal without much stress.

All this, I learnt within a short period of time. Human wants are insatiable, this have made me killed a lot of innocent souls, some physically, others emotionally, just to have their valuables. The first time I murdered a lady, I couldn’t sleep...... continue from source link

https://yawabase.com/2020/05/how-i-became-a-demon-and-my-parents-didnt-know.html

A thieve, will never say am a thieve unless been caught in the act.

U chose ur path

Continue the story from here bro or forget nobody will click that link