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WARNING: Long history ahead.
>Be 19 years old.
>Living with my mother, father died on a car accident when I was a child.
>My mother was an ok person. She was very strict on the house rules, worked a lot, but she was caring and cheerful.
>We rarely had fights, except for one reason:
>I had my toy collection.
>She used to be believe it was worthless crap occupying to much space on the apartment.
>She used to tell me those toys would made some kids happier if I were to put them to sale, or just give them away.
>Truth is, I didn't have too much money for worthy stuff, so plenty of it was TF and other wal-mart tier crap.
>But, fuck, it wasn't just about the toys, but about making a point, about standing for something as tiny and ridiculous as it could be.
Yeah, I know, in retrospective it was pretty retarded, but I wasn't a very intelligent person back then. Even now I'm not sure if I learned a damn thing. Anyway...
>Some time ago...
>I had an argument with my mother while shopping.
>I don't remember exact details, but it was about something about the food brands, and random SJW my mother talked with the neighbours.
>Keep arguing on the way home.
>We were too distracted to notice the car.
>The driver was too drunk to care about us.
>Some days later.
>I had a broken leg. The other was missing.
>My mother died.
>My relatives were living in another state and didn't wanted nothing to do with us.
>According to my country laws, I was old enough to take care of myself.
>I was literally alone on the world.
>Was working as half-time waiter on a local restaurant. No insurance or any of the fancy things, just tips and some owner's pocket change for payment.
>Without working legs, I had no chance to go back to there.
>No family, no money, no valuable degree, or anything else.
>I had to start selling my toys just to survive for a while.
>Every time I published on our local craiglist website, I had to relive every argument I had with my mother.
1/?
