People Live Here is a collection of true story fragments.

When we moved to Roseburg, Oregon, we thought we were starting over — a fresh page, a safe nest.
Instead, we found ourselves one cracked and foiled windowpane away from homelessness. Pregnant, broke, clinging to the last place that would take us: a crumbling roadside motel, Room 25.

Outside that kitchen window, life staggered by — addiction, sirens, hope, collapse.
We watched. We listened. We wrote.

These aren't sanitized memoirs.
They’re stitched together from scorched journal pages, whispered confessions through broken doors, and long, haunted stares through cracked blinds.
The characters are real. The wreckage was lived.
The stitching — that’s ours.

We didn’t just survive there.
We worked magick there.

When polite society would’ve thrown us into the storm, we built a life raft out of ritual.
We studied sacred texts by candlelight.
We called down angels — Sandalphon, Raphael, Uriel, Gabriel, Michael, Metatron.
We prayed. We affirmed. We invoked.
We bled for a better timeline.

And then — we chose the unthinkable:
We chose to bring our baby into this ruin.
Not in a hospital. In Room 25.

Inside those rotting walls, thick with black mold and broken locks, our magick filled the air heavier than fear ever could.

We will tell it all here:

📖 The full People Live Here storybook — stitched myths, scorched truths, journal fragments disguised as fiction.

📷 Visuals — the mold, the rats, the pregnancy, the homelessness — every ugly, beautiful inch of it.

✍️ Personal writings from Loui Crow and Sarlon White — voices that refused to go silent.

Two voices.
One vow:
To tell the story no one else could see.

Because you don’t really know how people live —
Until you live there too.
And you don’t know the power of magick —
Until it’s the only thing keeping you afloat.

Welcome to Room 25.
Welcome to the edge.
Welcome to People Live Here.