Back when I was born in waters on coast of Sicily, my parents threw me out soon as they had chance. I do remember faintly seeing my parents before I was disowned…my father pale white as a ghost, and my mother…
"Cosa c'è di sbagliato con mio figlio!?" My father had said, according to the street sharks, they had seen me born—not in a hospital, but in an old abandoned apartment that no one had lived in for years. I guess I hadn't been planned, but there was no way I would have thought that I would be this unwanted.
"Egli non è in grado di vivere. I do not want him, take him away. Lui è un mostro!" she had said to her own first born son. The street sharks who watched this said that very moment, I started crying—my voice…was just freaky as me. It was skewed pitched and rough like a being strangled creature. They told me my father grabbed me from my mother and wrapped me in old carpeting, so no one see me with him. What they didn't know was he swam outside; found the city's dumpster. He took one last look at me and said something I didn't understand—
"Mi dispiace." He had said, and then dropped me in heap of trash. Never saw my parents again…. I lived alone hiding, always avoiding larger sharks and hungry predators. I couldn't speak a word of language, so I not talk to anyone for help. A few weeks, I was found by that group of sharks living on streets rummaging for food. They took me in and helped me get fed and makeshift shelter. They taught me Italian and some English. I learned to fight for everything I had and steal what I needed. I thought I was happy with my new friends, but I wasn't. A street gang isn't a family, I realize. I wanted love, not sex for certain, just a family. All I wanted was to be loved…I grew from pup to teen, getting bigger and stronger every day. After that, I just kept living alongside the street sharks who raised me, never having anything to do with my parents again. I also endured painful fights, tried to get a girl a few times…you can imagine how that went. I ended up covered in bruises and scrapes, shredded fins, you know. One fight got my face torn up pretty bad, so I had the piercings done to make look better. I survived through countless insults to my appearance…it was painful yes, but then I finally decided to run away from these horrible place. It was a day where the police began arresting people of our group for their crimes...I went as far as I could go, all the way to this reef here, where I was found using the skills I had learned to survive-I had caught the attention of local mob and began my duty here. Here I have home, friends, and money to live...