The Bloodline

People feared me before they knew me.
Not because of my actions, but because of my name. Conversations stopped when I entered a room. Eyes followed me with suspicion. Silence did the accusing when words did not.
I was judged for a history I never lived.
They did not ask who I was. They saw my bloodline and decided my future. To them, fear was inherited, and guilt was automatic.
Discrimination does not need proof.
It only needs a reason to look away.
And my existence was reason enough.