A tall man wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt stands still in a grey concrete hallway as others walk past. Burn scars cover most of his face, only partially visible because of a hoodie pulled tight.
“I’m treated like a ghost,” says Casper Harper, 20.
“I don’t rely on anybody. I’m basically a black sheep in every social situation.”
It’s 11 p.m. on a relatively mild Winnipeg night in January, and he’s clutching a baggie with a sandwich in it. He’s come to the West End 24 Hour Safe Space for Youth, in the inner-city Spence neighbourhood, for a bite.
On this night, he’s not
