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Dear Ann Landers,
am hoping you will print this letter, not for my sake, but to help your young readers who are having trouble at home and think their lives are lousy. I've spent die last four years as a runaway living on the streets of Los Angeles. I was never happy at home. I didn't like it when someone in my family told me what to do. I fought with everybody. I wish I had listened. Now I realize they were trying to help me because they loved me. Every day in Los Angeles has been a battle for my survival. Before I had spent a month out here, I was into prostitution. I was only 14 years old. I've done a lot of drugs, lived under bridges and slept in alleys off Hollywood Boulevard. I've eaten out of dumpsters behind restaurants and fallen in with psychos and winos. It's a miracle that I'm still alive. Actually, I shouldn't say it's a miracle because my luck ran out. I just saw a doctor and was given a death sentence. I'm now 18 years old, I'm seven months pregnant and I have AIDS. I'm writing this letter to tell other kids that no matter how bad things are at home and how tough you think your life is, it's 100 per-cent better than it would be on the streets. Stay where you are, and work things out. If you feel like you need a break from your family, go visit a friend or take a 10-day backpack trip, but don't run away. There are already thousands of kids out here who are in the same spot I'm in, and Lord knows how many there are in other cities. Please don't add to that number. Stay home no matter what. I wish I had. -Too Late for Me
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