The Man With Many Names

When I was born my mother would not name me, she gave no good reason as to why she simply said
" He needs to figure it out for himself." My father had runoff with some hooker before I was even born my mother blamed me. She took no baby pictures and told no one I was born not even my grandparents whom she had not talked to for over a year at the time. Once I was old enought to speak and understand sentences I asked her why she hated me she gave no response as usual. I still had not been given a name I decided from that day on I would be called Dirt. It might seem dumb but it fit and until I became something better thats what i would be called.
Years had passed and the void between my mother and I had grown larger and darker with every day. On December 6th 2010 my 12th birthday my mother died her last words were " You wasted my life you really are dirt." Then she was gone and so was I. After calling the cops I took all the money I could find and some warm clothes then marched out into the snow no idea where I was going or how I was gonna survive but I had nothing to go back to anyway.

.... To be continued