D’Arreion did well not to lose his head. Not to react how I wanted to. No words. Forcefully shoving my way through the door. He (I) just wanted to go home. To rest, to be safe. Land of the free? Home of the brave? All-American? Oh no, not if you’re black or brown. Well leave, you say. No! This is mine as much as it is yours, perhaps even more-so. Without me, you would still be the invaders you were at the shore. So how about you build a ship and go? For I (we) shall not be moved, ever.