I was just over twenty years old. My life was made out of parties, discos, drugs and fun. I did not think about anything else.
I lived in Novi in Modena and on the 29th of May 2012 there was an earthquake. You can imagine the situation. My mom and my brother were in the civil protection housing. My dog and I were destined to stay in the tent. A friend of mine called me and asked me if I wanted to stay at his house.
Since that time, not only my city fell to pieces, but also all my life.
I stayed at Marco’s house for some months. I could only hear from my mom rarely, just to know if everything was ok. The relation between us had already broken a long time before. She knew what I was doing, so she had cornered me once again, I didn’t want to consider this.
In town I was making enemies. I was stuck to the drug dealers and I was always in the midst of problems. Marco learnt about this and so he kicked me out of his house.
I was wandering like a lost soul, and kept taking heroin in order to fill my malaise. I spent my evenings destroying me with drugs. I got shit bad: debts with people looking for me, the police kept an eye on me. I had no job, I no longer had a home, and I often didn’t eat because I had no money. I found myself living under a bridge; I ended up living in streets. Completely alone and drugs were always protagonist of my life.
The only solution was my old wrecked home. It was dangerous, but I had no choice. I was really into pieces. I only took drugs. I pretty much didn’t eat anymore. One day I was so high on cocaine that I could not feel my leg and arm. I fell to the ground, I was still alert, but I felt terrible. Cocaine doesn’t forgive, I hence could have died. Another shot, and I would have been gone. I started to be scared, a lot too. Ever so much. With the little strength I had left I opened the window and threw out all the shit that was destroying me. That day I said to myself that it was time to end up the messed up life, it was time to rise from the “debris” of my life…