All I could do was stare down at the text book and pretend that I was listening to the class going on around me. I just wanted to be free again. I flicked between the pages and the past documented in the battered book. I wonder if when those sailors set out that they even thought for a glimmer of a second that their whole adventure would be covered by a short paragraph in a 10th grade history book and a photo that barely even grasped what their lives were like and how tragic that journey was. I knew that adventures like that couldn't be covered with a paragraph. I'd lived too many to think about now without breaking down in tears of screaming at the classroom around me. No one knew and I hoped it stayed that way as long as possible. Once everyone found out where I came from and how I got here, that's when it all changes. The looks, the friends, even the tone of voices around me. They all hum a little louder, a little more interested in who I am.