1. What's going on?

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I jolted awake. The piercing screams were too much to bear. I sneaked out of my room and down the hall to see who was screaming. I covered my ears as a blood-curdling scream echoed the walls of our house. I peeked into Mama's bedroom and saw Mama all sweaty, and she looked like she was in so much pain. Aunt Laura and Clara, the neighbor, were also in the room. Mama let out one more scream, louder than the rest and this time, she made no noise. Nothing happened. Clara and Aunt Laura whispered to each other. Aunt Laura wiped a tear from her cheek that had fallen. I ran back to my room crying. Is Mama dead?

I opened my eyes. My face was drenched with tears.  Patrick was sitting next to me, he must have been waiting for me to wake up because once he saw me, he leaned over and hugged me.  Ever since Mama died, I have been having the same dream. That's the only thing I ever think about anymore. Daddy doesn't talk to us. The only thing he's done in the past month is stare out the window. He doesn't sleep, and he barely eats. We've had to provide for ourselves. Stealing food on the street when no one is looking, and sometimes even money. We don't know what happened to Daddy. He's been like this from the second he heard the news that she'd died in childbirth.

Patrick has been much better about it. Daddy used to call him Finch because he always loved birds. I stopped calling him that because it reminds me too much of Mama. But he sometimes refers to himself as it, and it pains me when he does, but I don't show it. He pulls away from the hug, "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah."

We walked down the flight of stairs to see Daddy in his position by the window. "Good morning Dad!" Patrick yells. As usual, he doesn't flinch. Just keeps staring out the window. I don't know how Patrick does it. He's always so cheerful. We walk out the door and into the street. We only live about five minutes from the market so we never walk that far. Some guys in black suits are giving us dirty looks, so Patrick wraps his arm around my shoulders. Then I hear someone yell, "Those kids! They stole from my shop yesterday! Get 'em!"

I don't think, I just run. I run as fast as I can, but the police dogs catch up with us. Patrick picks me up and he runs, the dogs bite his heel and he falls over, landing me hard on the ground. I get up as quickly as possible and run, but it's too late. The police officer already caught up to me. Picked me up and threw me in a carriage. I looked out the window and saw Patrick fighting with the officer. After some time, the officer managed to drag him into our carriage. "It's off to the refuge with you two!" 

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