Beverly Hills Outcast

          So you want to know about me huh? Are you intrigued by the fact people call me twitch and wonder why, wonder why I'm 18 and content with living in a tuna can trailer on the beach in the slums of the Hollywood hills. Wonder if I purposely try to channel a James dean persona. Wearing only t-shirts and Dickies, I'm not one to be seen in a button up shirt and never a suit. My pants sag low to show my boxers, why because I can. Don't know if you love or hate the tattoos that cover most of my body. The fact is there not much to know about me. People make snap judgments on everything I just said. No one takes the time to get to know me. They assume they know me by the way I look. Nobody now me the real me to be honest I don't know if I know the true me.

          Let's get to the makes me who I am, and that's Twitch.  I can't tell you much about my family (from what I hear there's nothing special to tell about them)  My parents were 15 or something and I was born at my mom's house, well really my grandmother's house. She hide her pregnancy as long as she could but when a 100 pound cheerleader quits the squad and gains 20 pounds in a month she had some issues keeping her big secret, me. She gave birth with my grandmother there and my stupid ass father she pushed me out after 10 hours of labor and after they cut my cord my druggie teenage father packed me up and made the drive to the nearest fire station where he left me to be found. While my grandmother tended to my mother and cleaned up the house like I was never there and her daughter never gave birth like it was a dream to them it was and they woke up. I've never been able to wake up from this nightmare. This story is not a happy one I didn't get adopted by a nice family I didn't even get found that night cause my genius father didn't realize that the fire station good old dad took me to was shut down or maybe he did no and didn't care, I tend to lean toward the he knew.  It was over a day until a jogger found me. I wasn't cry I was just lying there w rapped in a sheet even than I must have known I couldn't trust anyone and crying wouldnt make my situation better.  

          The jogger took me to the hospital where then doctors said I suffered from lack of oxygen to the brain which could cause me permanent nerve problems. It was his nice way of saying that I was going to have nerve problems, but they would never put that in an abandoned child's file because what are the odds of a family adopting a broken baby. They just littered my medical records with a lot of maybes.  The nurses would hold me they call it hand time so a baby can feel love from a mother create a bond but this would be the second time I would lose another mother in less than a years' time. The nurses would pray that I would be okay, that my family would have a change of heart or a couple would fall in love with me and give me a great life and even a simple wish that god would let me live.  I was there for 6 months theses nurses became my parents but that ended when social services showed up. The lady walked in and was surprised to learn I have yet to be named. I think the nurses hoped my mother would show up and claim Herr Baby boy known in the hospital as the blue eyed fighter. She never did so as the social worker stood there the nurse who was always holding me and feeding me. Even on her days off she would come in to check on me. She looked down into my big blue eyes rain her fingers through my thick black hair that started growing in with tons of curls. In a soft voice she looked down at me and said "his name is Roman Asher Barrett it means strong and blessed and he has proven to be strong and has blessed all of us" I may not be a big fan of the name but a woman the first woman to care for me gave me the name so it means a lot to me that and no one ever calls me roman anyways. That was the first time I cried when the social worker took me out of her arms she was more of a mother than the woman who shared the same genes as me. I wonder what she felt, wonder if she ever thought about taking me in. my life would defiantly be different. I never knew her name but I will never forget her face I will never forget her. She gave me my name and she gave me the strength to fight. She gave me my first taste of what being loved felt like and it was great. Even though it didn't last as long as I would have liked it to.