At 30-years old I had finally started getting my life on track. I was about finished paying off my debts. I was ready to speak with my family after years of grinding, able to finally look them in the eyes after all this time and say I made something of myself. Then I ended up in a new world with a bunch of strangers, having nothing but the clothes on my back and my name.

I was at rock bottom again, only this time I had no one to stand on to climb my way out. And I didn’t know if I could ever make it back home when all I could do was what it took to get by another day. Maybe, if I survived long enough, something good would come my way.

But until then, I would just do what I have to.