Doughboy's story

Right now I am harbouring a deep sadness as my biggest inspiration lies lifeless on a hospital bed in a coma.

I wrote in a previous post about the man that saved me from being pimped out while I was homeless in Boston. This man went by the name Doughboy. I met Doughboy whilst I was 'working' at a seedy apartment in the city centre. He pulled me to the side and told me he didn't like the situation he was seeing. He told me I could leave with him and that he'd get me anything I needed and put us up in hotels. And so I did.

He took me to one of the fanciest hotel's I've ever seen. We walked up to the reception desk to make a booking and I saw the man behind the desk look him up and down with a look I can only describe as disgust. Doughboy was a very tall and built black man with a durag, braids, baggy pants and chains but he could have walked in wearing a designer suit and I know the white man behind the desk would have given him the same look. When we asked to book a room, the man actually sniggered when he told us the four hundred dollar price per room/per night. I couldn't help but smile as the man behind the desk's cheeks burned red from embarrassment as Doughboy handed over his card to pay. I lived in the United States between the ages of 11-14 so I was no stranger to witnessing blatant racism but it still broke my heart every time.

We spent every day together for the next couple of months and I learned more and more about his life. He grew up in a very poor community near Boston where an opportunity for a decent life is slim to none. His parent's were both murdered by drug dealers when he was just eleven years old so his aunt took him in and raised him. I have met his aunt and she is a lovely women and she is the only family member he has that isn't a drug dealer, user or both. His body bears more scars than I have ever seen. Half his calf is missing, his arms are just two massive scars where his skin had to be peeled off to try and save his leg and he has lumps all over his veins where he used himself as a pin cushion to shoot heroin. He has been through unimaginable trauma through a life of drugs, gangs and violence that was impossible to escape. I know there are some rare cases but from what I have seen, the USA is far from the "land of the free" unless you're white and/or rich. He was brought up in a situation like so many other's of his colour and 'class' that offered no chance to succeed.

After a couple months of being in Boston, my mum explained my visa (esta) was almost up and I'd have to fly back to England to renew it. She promised I could fly right back after a week or so. Doughboy had no trust in this but I assured him I would be back straight away. Unfortunately, he was right and my mum wouldn't book me a flight back. We spoke on FaceTime every day and he'd even stay on the phone while I'd sleep as he knew I suffered with night terrors.

He got off of heroin at the end of 2017 via methadone which he has carried on taking since then. The USA doesn't have free healthcare and the only clinic that accepts Obamacare is an hour and a half travel each way from his town, meaning he has to get up at 3:30am every day to pick it up. He has twin boys who his baby mother won't allow him to see. His aunt is critically ill and lives in a care facility for seniors so he cannot stay with her, meaning he is homeless and on the street. He has been going to court every month since he got clean in 2017 over a petty crime dating back years and every month they adjourn it for another month. They ask him to pay every single month he goes, knowing full well he is unable to get a job until this case closes. In my opinion, they are waiting for him to mess up so they can send him back to prison.

A few weeks ago, he made an attempt on his life and ended up in hospital. He was released back into the exact same situation with no help or support whatsoever. The last time I spoke to him was last week. He was on the streets in the rain as the shelter was full and he told me he was going to take a heroin overdose to kill himself once and for all. I tried to talk him out of it as I truly would love to believe that the world just has to give him a chance at a better life, because if it doesn't - what kind of world are we in. I found out yesterday that he followed through and he is now in a coma.

This man was my biggest inspiration. He had so much to offer the world, if only he had been given a chance. He told me of his dream to open a youth centre which he would name, 'PEACE' (please educate all children equally). The past couple of years he had been going into schools using his story to try and steer young children away from drugs and gangs. What breaks my heart is that his case is not an isolated one. The USA literally has areas of severe poverty. When Trump shut down the government, Doughboys only source of food - food stamps - was stopped. I know for certain that if he was born in the UK, his childhood and there on would have been so different. At the very least, he would have had the opportunity to achieve a better life.

Please, if you're reading this, say a prayer for this man. He is the strongest person I have ever met but there is only so much even the strongest of people can go through. These few paragraphs I've written barely touch on the tragedy that is his life. He deserves better. Especially from a country that has more than enough resources to give him that.

If Doughboy can stay clean. Anyone can.

Copyright © 2020 Mélisande Ottoline Erin. All rights reserved