I am Telemachus, Odysseus' Son. It has been some twenty years that my father has left for the Trojan War, so I don't know what it's like to have a father. My mother, the fair Penelope, has told me many a tale about my father Odysseus. Like how he won a running race to compete for her hand. She begins to weep when she gets to the day that he left. She said it was the best and the worst day of her life. You see, the day my father Odysseus left for Troy, I was just born. I have only seen my father once, but really, only he has seen me because, what sort of infant remembers their very first day of life? I certainly didn't. As the years have gone by, I have longed and longed again to see my father's face. It has come to the point where I have gone places to search for him, or at least acquire some information on him. Ever since I heard about my great father Odysseus, I have never even had the notion to believe that he is dead. One day, the sun will rise and my father Odysseus will reclaim his throne and wipe out all of the suitors. I have not even mentioned the suitors to you, have I? I live in a palace with my mother and for most of my life, Ithacan men, pound down the doors, in hopes that they will get my mother's hand. Fortunately, my mother has been strong and does not want to believe that Odysseus is dead either. I can only imagine how incredibly difficult this must be for her. I remember one day, I was walking with my mother through the city, I was only about eight years old, and I met a boy. We talked for a few minutes about my father's weapons and he asked my mother if it would be alright if he could meet him because he sounded so incredibly interesting. My mother put on the best smile, and told him that he was busy and would not be available to chat with a little boy. My mother then turned away and I knew that she was weeping. I told the boy that we needed to be on our way and he immediately left. He became my best friend, but never again did he ask to see my father. That was one of those days that I longed for him most. It seemed like every boy was the son to a father. Sure, I was too, but it's not the same when your father isn't present. But his absence is definitely taking a toll on me. Especially now. About five afternoons ago, I was ready to embark on yet another quest for my long lost father. As my boat was leaving Ithaca, the suitors threatened me to never come back if I want to stay alive. And this is where I am now. At sea. Oh Gods! Take pity on me! Where is my father, the great Odysseus?