“This is where I slept” THERESA’S STORY (PART 2)

We were walking down a street in Oakland where plastic chairs and broken bottles pepper each side of the road. Every other building is abandoned; the streets seem to dissolve into the grass.

“We’re almost there,” Theresa said, detecting my uneasiness.

We stopped when we reached an overgrown field that inundates a massive abandoned church.

“This is where I slept,” she said.

“In there?” I ask, alarmed and pointing towards the church.

“No,” she laughs, “I parked here and slept in the car.”

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