"Well," I answered Akello's question slowly. "All I remember is waking up. I was in some alley in London." I crinkled my nose. "It was disgusting." I still remembered that, how dirty and grimy it had been.  When I woke up, the only thing I had seen at first was a splattering of yellow vomit and grey. Grey walls, grey pavement. "It was so cold, too," I continued feebly. "I wandered around until I found the orphanage. It was better there. Not great, but better. Then one day I saw the posters for the circus. I wanted to go so badly. I wanted to see the yellow and blue bigtop. But I wandered into the wrong tent..." I trailed off, and looked around to gauge everyone's reactions. Were their stories more harsh? Less? How would they judge my past?  "What about everyone else," I asked.