I was born a free spirit and will always be one. I can be pretty mellow hardly getting angry about anything. I can be protective of my baby sister Trinity whose two years younger than I am. I'm a giver and a lover. Never taking anything for granted especially after we lost our mother. I let no laws govern me or anyone for that matter. I'm a gypsy that roams everywhere and anywhere. Dancing for the money we make. I can be pretty gullible sometimes like I fell for the charms of an older boy when I was seventeen. Who said he loved me, but he really just wanted one thing. After that I learned to be leery of strangers. Keeping away from people and staying in the wide open spaces enjoying life.

[smear:#e63e19]Positive Traits:[/smear:#19e6da:0]
1)Protective: Inclined to safeguard, shield, or carefully supervise the persons or items in one's charge.
2)Spunky: An inclination toward liveliness and high energy.
3)Spontaneous: Enjoying what naturally occurs; given to acting on healthy impulses.
4)Traditional: Acting and thinking in accordance with established beliefs and practices.
5)Passionate: Being capable of or expressing deep feeling,
6)Uninhibited: Not restricted or restrained by societal or psychological norms.

[smear:#19e6da]Negative Traits:[/smear:#e63e19:0]
1)Gullible: Easily misled or duped. Not in all things, but some.
2)Rebellious: Flouting the law or resisting authority.
3)Impulsive: Acting on desires, whims, or inclination without forethought.
4)Stubborn: Unyielding or obstinate.
5)Verbose: Wordy; inclined to say more than is needed.
6)Mischievous: Maliciously or impishly troublesome.

The Romani, also spelled Romany or Romani (/ˈroʊməni/ ROH-mə-nee or /ˈrɒməni/ ROM-ə-nee) and colloquially known as the Roma (sg.: Rom), are an ethnic group of Indo-Aryan origin who traditionally lived a nomadic, itinerant lifestyle. Linguistic and genetic evidence suggests that the Romani originated in the Indian subcontinent, in particular the region of present-day state of Rajasthan. Their subsequent westward migration, possibly in waves, is now believed by historians to have occurred c. 1000 CE. Their name is from the Sanskrit word डोम (ḍoma) which means a member of the Dom caste of traveling musicians and dancers. The Roma population moved west into the Ghaznavid Empire and later into the Byzantine Empire. The Roma are thought to have arrived in Europe around the 13th to 14th century. Although they are widely dispersed, their most concentrated populations are located in Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, Spain and Turkey.

In the English language, Romani people have long been known by the exonym Gypsies or Gipsies, which many Roma consider a racial slur. The attendees of the first World Romani Congress in 1971 unanimously voted to reject the use of all exonyms for the Romani, including "Gypsy".

The first Roma to come to the United States arrived in Virginia, Georgia, New Jersey and Louisiana during the 1500s. Romani slaves were first shipped to the Americas with Columbus in 1498. Spain sent Romani slaves to their Louisiana colony between 1762 and 1800. An Afro-Romani community exists in St. Martin Parish due to intermarriage of freed African American and Romani slaves. The Roma population in the United States is estimated at more than one million. There are an estimated 1 million Roma in the United States and between 800,000 and 1 million in Brazil, most of whose ancestors emigrated in the 19th century from eastern Europe. Brazilian Romani are mostly descended from German/Italian Sinti (in the South/Southeast regions), and Roma and Calon people. Brazil also includes a notable Romani community descended from Sinti and Roma deportees from the Portuguese Empire during the Portuguese Inquisition. In migrations since the late 19th century, Romani have also moved to other countries in South America and Canada.

My ancestors to America were Romani slaves that were brought over by Columbus in 1498. They fought hard to free themselves, and many were lost along the way. Luckily my line survived and there were a lot of us that came into this world, but the line is dwindling. Down to just my sister Trinity and I.

Our parents met one another through other Gypsies or Romani. Falling fast into love and having me. Yes I was born out of wedlock as was my sister, but the way we lived on the road it was normal to us. We roamed from place to place as I grew up. Never staying in one place very long. If something went missing it was blamed on us. Not saying if they were right or not.

When we were small we lived out of a van till we were around seven or eight, and our parents decided to get motorcycles to travel when the van broke down. After that my sister and I rode on the back of our parent’s bikes traveling the country. We’ve also been to Canada and down through Mexico, through Central America, and down to the other countries below visiting relatives who traveled just as we did. Sleeping in a tent wasn’t always nice, but we made it work. It was the winter months that we would go down South, and come back in the Summer to the states.

Our dad was a musician and mom would dance to make money for us to survive on. Teaching us how to play and dance as we grew older to help in making money. Out of the fifty states Hawaii is the only one we haven’t been to. Since we’d have to cross the ocean to do so. I’d rather have my feet planted on dry land thank you! When I was sixteen mom caught something going around during our travels, and she didn’t make it. Dad was really never the same after that. He was shot and killed when I was twenty. It was just me and Trin after that and we never gave up our wandering ways.

Trin and I were close as it was just the two of us growing up. We definitely had one another’s backs. We learned to read and write when we were younger from our parents around the campfire. That was the only schooling that we had, and for me that was enough. With our lifestyle we didn’t have the need really for anything else.

When I was seventeen some guy traveled with us for a few weeks. Well that song Gypsies Tramps, and Thieves hits home in a few places. He was sweet and charming, and I lost my innocence to him. It wasn’t till I miscarried a few weeks after he left us that I even realized I had been pregnant. Dad left us on our own for a little while after that. When he came back he was in blood covered clothes. After he cleaned up we were on the road again. He had silenced our questions, and I had a feeling he’d gone after that guy. Whether he did or not it died with him the truth.

The years have flown by and I’m thirty-eight now. Still living the life of a Gypsy. Some days I wonder what it would be like to settle down and have a family. Stay in one place longer than a few days at a time. Then I wonder if I would go stir crazy staying in the same place for very long.

Trinity and I found a place in Kansas by a small lake to camp by. Out in the middle of nowhere. We wouldn’t be disturbed out here we didn’t think. It was quiet and beautiful. We’d lay out at night and watch for shooting stars. Talking and silence would ensue. Both of us are comfortable in our own thoughts or talking. Till the night that gunshots erupted interrupting our star gazing.

We grabbed our guns and of course went to investigate who was invading our heaven of a shelter we had found. We kept to the shadows and tree cover even though it was night out and almost pitch dark. We watched as three men dragged three bodies into the woods. Where there were already makeshift graves dug up. I had no idea whether they were still alive or not.

After the others left we waited to check on the graves in case they came back. While we did one of them crawled out of a grave, and tried to help the others. We looked at one another, but stayed where we were watching. Hearing him mumble to one of them he would get help and be back. He was able to get himself up, and stumble out of there. We heard the bike start up and leave. It was about twenty minutes later that we thought it was safe to come out.

One of the men was dead, but the other one when I put my ear down to his face could feel his breath on my cheek. We dug him up the rest of the way. Then we drug him off to our camp, making sure to wipe away our trail behind us so they wouldn’t know where he had gone if the ones who had shot and buried him came back. We went back and took the two bikes that were there too. One of them had to be the guy's bike that we had dug out of the grave.

Trinity and I patched him up and got one of the bullets that hadn’t gone through out of him. I let Trinity stitch up the wounds as it made me a bit queasy. We kept watch and saw others come back and dig up the last guy taking him away. There was definitely confusion on their part discovering the other two guys gone as well as all three bikes. Then two more came back and the one was still covered in blood. Had to be the one who had clawed his way out of the grave. Not knowing who we could trust we didn’t make ourselves known. We kept our camp and kept watch over the guy that we had helped.

He came down with a fever and was in and out for days. With our knowledge we nursed him back to health, and a week later he was sitting up and we were giving him broth at first, then added to his diet to strengthen him back up. The man had amnesia, not remembering who he was at all. So my sister and I talked it over and came up with a Gypsy name for him. Calling him Kaven Lovell Wood. Kaven means handsome because he was definitely handsome.

It took him a while to figure out which one of the bikes was his that we had confiscated that night of the shooting. We did tell him what we had seen that night. Telling him the true story of how we knew it to fold out. When he was ready to ride a couple of weeks later we loaded up the other bike on our makeshift trailer along with our supplies and tent heading out. Kaven alternated each day between the bikes trying to get a feel for each of the bikes.

Over time we fell into routines. I was falling in love with Kaven, but my sister and I shared him. Both having our fun with him. He was probably in heaven though I never asked him about it. Though it did feel like heaven in his arms to me. Stargazing was much more fun with him joining us. Over the campfire during meals we’d ask him questions trying to help him jolt his memory and where he had come from. We did watch our backs not knowing if the men who had tried to get rid of him would come back for him trying to find him.

It’s been three months since we saved Kaven. I couldn't be happier with him with us. He’d join us in earning money as we traveled. Putting on a show here and there as we traveled making good money with him joining us. We pulled into a town called Washington, California and got us a spot at a campground there in town. Well right on the edge of it that is. There seems to be a motorcycle club staying here as well. Their rockers say Nevada on them. Right now we are good on money and supplies so we don’t know if we will do a few shows here or not. Only time will tell.