Was changing channels when I happened on a Discovery Channel documentary about turtles. What hooked me was that they were talking about an island called Santa Fe.

I was not very surprised when I saw Santa Fe. At first I was hoping that it'll be a beautiful island. You know the sort: palm trees, white beaches... that kinda thing?

Well it wasn't.

It was an inhabitable island of rock where only algae, sea-faring lizards, and an endangered specie of turtles live.

Figures...

The scientists who were studying the turtles couldn't even get close to the island. There was no place for their boat to land, they couldn't swim near coz of the strong waves crashing against the rocks. No way to get in except from the air, so they had to go back and get a helicopter, which probably gave the denizens of the island veritable heart attacks coz of the noise.

Yep. That's the island I have the same name with. Perfect. Bloody perfect.

Actually, I find it funny how symbolical of the real me the island is. Unless I let people in, they'd find it extremely hard to get to know me better. I put certain people to test at times, just to see how they'd react to this part of me that I normally don't show to others. Not everyone had passed. Those who did were either extremely lucky or just ingenious enough to find ways that I became interested in them and made the way easier for them.