The 35-year-old heroin addict lay on the couch, surrounded by empty liquor bottles and dirty needles. Her makeup was smeared and her hair disheveled. She wore a tattered miniskirt and tank top, revealing her tattoos

The 35-year-old heroin addict sat on the couch, surrounded by empty liquor bottles and dirty needles. Her makeup was smeared and her hair disheveled. She wore a tattered miniskirt and tank top, revealing her tattoos and scars. Her face was covered in wrinkles and lines, as if she had been crying for hours on end. Dirty old sofa lay nearby, along with empty liquor bottles littered around. The room was dirty and messy, with piles of trash scattered everywhere. There were already used needles strewn on the floor, along with used syringes and syringes inked in shocking colors. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and drugs. The heroin addict laid there motionless for a long time before finally sitting up slowly to take a long swig from a bottle of whiskey on the table next to her. She stared blankly into space for several seconds before collapsing back onto the sofa, tears streaming down