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  • Dedicated to Paco Su Taco

My life wasn’t as bad as most people might think. I was 17, had a job that was fun and paid well, and had amazing friends I could always count on. My heart was free, no one holding me down. My job, well most people I knew wouldn’t have guessed that that was what I was doing on Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. Also, I had a whole other identity when I was there. My life was okay, but nothing ever stays the same. This story starts on Friday when I was going to school in my fixed up 1989 Ford F150. 

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