As the sun set on the city that never sleeps, the streets came alive with a different kind of energy. Crack cocaine was spreading like wildfire, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. Abandoned buildings became havens for drug users and dealers, and entire neighborhoods were held hostage by the relentless grip of addiction.

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You couldn't walk down the block without fearing for your life. It was a tough time for everyone, especially families trying to raise their kids in this chaos.

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Law enforcement was grappling with a crisis of unprecedented proportions, as they faced not only a surge in drug-related crimes but also an escalation of turf wars among rival gangs competing for control of the lucrative drug trade. As a result, homicide rates skyrocketed, and the city became notorious as a hotbed of violence.

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Growing up in a household with domestic violence and substance abuse can have a significant impact on a child's development. In my case, my father was often drunk and would physically and verbally abuse my mother, while my mother struggled with drug addiction.

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As a child, I felt a constant sense of fear and uncertainty. I was always on edge, never knowing when the next outburst or argument would occur. I often felt helpless, as I didn't know how to make the violence stop. I would try to hide or stay out of the way, but it was hard to avoid it completely, as it happened in my own home. Sometimes, I'd wake up for school and see blood on the floor or holes in the wall from his punches.

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Things got even crazier when my parents got into trouble with the law during a drug raid. My brother and I ended up in foster care. Luckily, my mom fought hard to get us back, and she won. But life didn't get easier. We moved a lot because my dad was always picking fights with neighbors. I rarely stayed in the same school for more than a year.

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Growing up, I was a shy kid. I thought everyone at school knew what was happening at my house, and I felt like they were making fun of me. It was tough, and I kept it a secret, thinking my brothers and I were the only ones going through this. The constant tension and violence also made it difficult for me to form healthy relationships and trust others. I had a hard time connecting with people and had a hard time forming friendships. I was always afraid of being hurt or rejected, which made it hard for me to open up and be vulnerable.

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Deep down, I wanted to protect vulnerable people, maybe because I couldn't protect my mom. It's hard to put it all into words, but through the grace of God, I am who I am today.