It is a nightmare. I can’t shake it. I can’t even cry. All my eyes are able to do is look surprised when I am told how bad my situation is. I wonder if it can get worse. If it can, what will that be—what will happen? I have already lost my home; I have wandered the streets and now this. After all this time, I am still homeless. I look everywhere for a sign, for a way out. I tell myself that I am smart and that I should be find something—anything is better than this. It is a future without hope.