Кадр выше наш. Полное медиа с Facebook запрошено — подставим его сюда, как только приедет.
Install here 👉
🛑 My name is Anna. I’m 34 years old. The photo on the left isn’t a bad selfie. It’s my official mugshot from the police station. Yes, I spent a year and a half in HMP Bronzefield. I’m not a hardened criminal. My life was ruined by just one "right" guy: he buried me in debt, framed me in a fake invoice scheme, and vanished into thin air. The result? Trial, conviction, and prison. When I got out, I had absolutely nothing left. With a criminal record, you’re a ghost in London: nobody would hire me, not even for cash-in-hand cleaning jobs in flats. Eventually, I found a job as a night dishwasher at a greasy kebab shop in Peckham. My face was exactly what you see: pale and grey from prison walls, my hair fried from a cheap £10 bleach job at a local salon, my skin ruined by stress, and a constant knot of fear sitting deep in my stomach. I was earning a pittance—around £1,100 a month working night shifts. And here was my monthly budget: Shared room (a roach-infested hole in Edmonton): £550 Monthly Oyster card (Zones 1-4 transport): £160 Court compensation instalments (to stay out of prison): £250 Groceries at Lidl (home-brand pasta and tinned food only): £100 Pack of Sterling Dual (my only vice to stay sane): £39 I was left with literally £1 in my pocket. If my only pair of trainers gave out, I was completely ruined. I used to walk home at 2 AM because the night buses weren't running on my route. I’d drink cheap instant tea, stare at the mouldy ceiling, and think: I’m at breaking point. To numb the pain, I started drinking cheap £3 supermarket wine. My face swelled up even more; I looked like a worn-out 50-year-old woman. Every morning I woke up choking on anxiety. Last month, my landlord (a creepy guy) told me: "Listen, either you pay three months' deposit upfront or you're out by Friday. Ex-cons only bring me trouble with the police." I was sitting on the floor crying, scrolling through Facebook on my cracked phone. In a group called "Jobs & Employment London
