My mom and step-dad did crack and heroin all the time. They were always sharing needles around with their friends. When I was twelve, my step-dad learned he had AIDS. My mom was pregnant when he died, and she had it, too, but she didn't know it. When my little sister was born, she was an AIDS baby. For a while Mom was OK, but then the AIDS got to her. She spent a lot of time in the hospital, and was terrible sick. My little sister was put in foster care and I went to stay with my uncle who lives north of Houston. Every day I worried about my mother until finally we got the word that she died. It was terrible. I cry for her every night, but that don't do no good. I'm really...