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Mahree leans in closer to me and rests her head on my shoulder as she cries. I can't hear her sobbing over the roaring rain and thunder. Lightning lights up the sky like fireworks on New Years Eve. I wrap my arm around her back and lie my head on her shoulder. Right now, she reminds me of Magdalena. Fragile and delicate, with strength intertwining with it. 

As the last people exit the building, we board the train. Its closing in on dusk and I want to get as much sleep as possible. The second I board the train, I am blown away by the exquisite decor. My house was fancy, but it was nothing like this. 

Shimmering glass tables and crystal chandeliers with platinum and gold detailing were everywhere. I couldn't wait to feel how comfortable the beds were. But then, I realized that it's a brain washing technique. They want us to forget about all the evil this government has done by treating us to the lifestyle of the rich and famous before we die.

I push past all the participants who just stand there, gazing at the luxury items. I open the door to a room with my lucky number, written in gold on the mahogany door. 13. I slide the door open to find a room built for a VIP. A soft and spongy bed with grey silk covers and sheets sits right next to the window. I peer outside to see the Examiner looking dead into my window.

I quickly yank the string that brings the shades over the window. I throw myself onto the silk bed, only to be engulfed into a sea of comfort. I decide to pull back the covers because I will not be moving for the rest of the night.

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Magdalena stares at me through the glass. Tears blur her face as the man with the needle inches closer to me. My mind is screaming to have me released, but not a word escapes my mouth. My lungs are filled with water and my throat is clogged with the words I want to speak.

Father sits next to her. His suit in neatly pressed and sits nicely on his body. It's the first time he's looked decent in ages. I move my eyes to the woman next to him. It's my mother. She's wearing a maroon business dress and her frizzy hair is flattened into smooth, straight strands. She looks at me with a smile and gives me a small nod that wouldn't even be noticed if I wasn't paying that much attention. 

The man with the needle is one person away from me. I feel my heartbeat slow down with each passing second. I feel like I can't think straight anymore. The person next to me slumps over in their chair. Mahree. I have to cover my mouth to suppress the screams, but my hands are tied to the chair.

I wake up shrieking. My hair is damp with sweat and tears that ran off my face. I sit up in the bed and wipe the tears off my face frantically. Even though I try to keep the tears away, more keep coming. I hear pounding footsteps approach my room. Afraid its a train monitor, I duck down under a pillow. But when the door opens and reveals Mahree, I feel a stab of hope in my chest.

She runs into my room with a look of concern smeared all over her face. "I'm fine." I mutter, not knowing what to say. "Go back to sleep. I'm sorry to have woken you. It was just a stupid dream." Mahree immediately shakes her head in refusal. "It's okay, Violet." she replies. "I was already awake. I had one too." I don't say anything back to her. Instead of telling her to leave again, I nod my head.

"Will you stay with me?" I ask after a brief moment of awkward silence. Without a response, she walks over to my bed and climbs in. I rest my head on her shoulder and drift into a dreamless sleep.

My mother always let me rest my head on her shoulders when I woke up from nightmares. It shows that you put a deep amount of trust in that person. It symbolizes a guardian and protector.




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