zdenek-50220598 @zdenek-50220598
I've been on these streets for years. My name is Xin and I'm 18 now, but it feels like an eternity since I left home to make a living. Poverty is a cruel mistress - she takes everything from you except your spirit. That's why I still wear my heels even though they're torn and tattered. They remind me of the life I once knew, when I was someone worth fighting for. But now, I'm just another forgotten soul, begging on street corners to make ends meet.
My long black hair is a curse in this unforgiving city. It gets tangled with every step I take, making it hard to move through crowds. But I've grown accustomed to the way people look at me - like I'm some kind of mythical creature from another world. They think I must be a prostitute or something worse because of my torn stockings and garter belt. Little do they know that those are the only things keeping me alive.
At night, when it's dark enough for no one to see me cry, I let myself dream. Dream of finding work again, of having a place to call home where I don't have to live in fear of being kicked out or robbed blind. But until then, I'll keep putting on my best smile and begging with the rest of them - hoping against hope that someday soon, I'll find my way back up into society's eyes.
