Episode 1

This me, I mean, almost... That's when I have time to get ready and produce myself.

As you will be here for a while, let me introduce myself and tell you a little about my story from the beginning.

I've lived here in Morro da Piedade since I was born. My mom was from here. She was a beautiful and lively woman, but since my dad died of cancer when I was three, she changed. She would leave me with my grandmother and spend days away from home, partying and clubbing. Until one day, she showed up pregnant by a married and rich man from the south side, who didn't want to acknowledge her or the babies - yes, they were twins. The boys were born when I was five. My grandmother, who took care of everyone since my mother never stayed home, she continued her life of craziness, drugs, drinking, and sex, looking for something or someone, I don't even think she knew what it was.

As a result, my mother became addicted to drugs and made our life a living hell. I was tired of coming home from school and seeing her prostituting herself in broad daylight in the alleys without an ounce of shame or dignity. I would drag her home unconscious after she spent days on end drinking. I stayed with her in the hospital after she was beaten by "clients" or drug dealers from the drug den, and sometimes by the wives of the guys from the hill. That was my entire childhood. Everyone knew my mother, "the junkie from the street of the store." That's what they called her.

My grandmother took care of me and my brothers. She used her retirement pension and my late grandfather's pension, but even so, it wasn't enough. She washed clothes and did any odd job she could find, but sometimes my mother would steal money from her to buy drugs, and things would get ugly for us. But as much as I insisted, she wouldn't let me help. She wanted me to study and become a doctor, which had always been my dream.

When I was sixteen, I was at school when they sent for me. I thought it was another one of my mother's stunts, but it was actually my grandmother. She had suffered a heart attack and didn't make it. At the time, I buried my grandmother thanks to the charity of neighbors who came together and helped me.

My mother showed up five days later. She was high. She came back and stayed until she got better. When she learned of my grandmother's death, she disappeared again, and I never saw her again.

A few weeks later, one of the leaders of the drug den came to tell me that she had been caught, tried, and sentenced for debt and theft by the court of crime. She was dead and there would be no body to watch over or bury. You can judge me, but I breathed a sigh of relief because I didn't know where I was going to get the money to bury another one.

I dropped out of school and got two jobs: one during the day at the supermarket from 7:00 am to 5:00 pm, and at night from 6:00 pm to 12:00 am at a snack bar.

My grandmother's sister lived next door to us on a plot of land with several rental houses. She took care of the twins for me to work. It was difficult and tiring. At first, I cried a lot out of longing and sadness for the injustices of life. But then I realized that this was not going to get me anywhere, so I decided to keep hope that one day everything would get better, and do my best every day.

You might think my brothers love me. Actually, our relationship is difficult. They have a lot of trauma that I didn't know how to deal with. They don't understand their own reality and blame me for not being able to give them what they deserve.

My brothers are gifted, both of them. They have above-average intelligence, but their arrogance and pride are even greater. They won scholarships to a private school and several extracurricular schools. And I try my best to keep up with their expenses at these schools: English, computer science, swimming, etc...

Because they are intelligent and cunning, they think they are much better than the people here in the slum, including me, and they treat everyone with indifference. I know they suffer prejudice for living in the favela and studying in the south side, so they do to the kids in the favela the same thing they do to them there in the wealthy areas.

I've tried everything for them to understand that this is wrong and that we shouldn't be like this. Feeling proud of yourself is great, but it doesn't mean, nor does it give us the right, to humiliate people who are different from us. But they don't give me an ounce of attention, and they dream of the day when their rich father will come and get them to live with him in the south side.

They are applying for a scholarship at the university. I know they will get it, and I will have to work twice as hard to keep them in college for these six years. They are both going to study medicine, which is what I always wanted. I will save the tuition money, but everything else will still be on me.

These are the twins, Raul and Rael. Although they are a pain in the neck, I love them very much. They are my only family now.

I still work in the same places, but at the snack bar, I work in the kitchen, and at the market, I work in the warehouse, unloading boxes during the day and washing dishes at night.

Thanks to all these years working, I've learned to do a little bit of everything. Then I had a crazy idea. I took out a loan with my boss at the market and bought a food trailer. I'm going to sell açai on the weekends to supplement my income and keep my little rats in college. I'm excited about this new job.

My best friend Lorena, who is always by my side, gave me the biggest support. She is the only one in this world who understands me, who knows everything about me and supports me. Without her, I wouldn't have the emotional structure to endure what I've endured these past few years. She's my sister, a piece of me that walks around with a frown on her face.

This is Lory, a cutie... Looks like she's going to bite you, and she really will if she has to. But now, off to a new job, I feel like it's going to be a success!

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