I still remember the feeling of those things under the mattress, a little bump that was always there, reminding me. It was a small rebellion, I suppose, against the rules, against the way someone else wanted things to be. After everything I saw, everything I had to do, you'd think something like that wouldn't matter. But it did. I just wanted... some understanding, I guess, for those tiny moments of not being what they expected. I wonder if anyone ever found them after all this time.