I think it might have been easier for me if I had just been given to a carnival or freak show when I was a baby. I could have been a carnie. A true carnie. A true freak. I would have snubbed my coil up at the lesser freaks — those who put on an act or who weren’t born with their talent, like I had been. I would have ruled the hen house. Alpha freak.
But I wasn’t. I was the crown jewel of my family. They would have never have let people gawk at me. Or ridicule me. Or love me. No. My family prized me above all other things. I was the pinnacle of an entire family’s destiny. And they would have never approved of anything I do now.
But, like the true carnie freak, I am not ashamed. I am not afraid. Well, okay. I’m afraid. I’m just a little two-head pig trying hard to make his way in this big bad-ass world.
