I was born at the end of the 90s, at the turn of the 2000s. The scene is a memory of that end of the 90s. A childhood that was stolen from me and my brother because of my father running away from the police, with his arrest and with the 1001 things that happened to us. There are some photos on the walls from that time, I wish there were more, but they were all stolen by my father when we broke up for good. I asked my brother for a picture of us playing under a tree and I cried when I found out I’ll never see that picture again…
Despite the spite, I always had my brother with me, and my mother, who made every effort in the world to ease this situation, where he was as much a victim as we were. I survived, I grew up, I went around a lot and I continue to build a story that I am very proud of.
