The "limo", as the pale people have called it, stops in front of a building. A building much taller than Ximena has ever seen, the door opens for her to step out. The woman, who she's learned is Christine Michaels holds out her hand for the young girl to grab. They're led inside the building where Ximena immediately sees children of all sorts of colors. Some far lighter than the pale people, some far darker than herself and some in strange middle colors.
Ximena sees one girl sitting by herself. Her hair is in long braids with beads on the top and end of each one and she's wearing a gown similar to the one Ximena was wearing when she was taken. Before Ximena can greet the girl, Christine stops walking, they've reached a desk where another pale woman talks to Christine and hands her a small stack of papers. They sit in some nearby chairs and Ximena is handed a pencil.
"Ximena, I need you to write your name and what day it is on this line right here," Christine said as she pointed to a line on the paper. Ximena nodded and did as told on the paper and every other one Christine told her to. After they were finished signing papers, Christine took Ximena to a big room in the building and gave her some fruit and vegetables in a container to eat.
While Ximena has been here, Christine has taught her a lot. Like: how to write her name, how to say what day it is and basic English like "hello, how are you?", "Please", "Thank you", "you're welcome", "yes" and "no". She was also taught how to introduce herself. However, Christine knows Ximena isn't comfortable speaking a different language yet so while she's still learning, they just speak Ximena's native language.
Once Ximena was done eating and Christine had finished her coffee, they headed back to where they came in. Ximena looked around for the girl and found her in the same spot she was before, looking out of the nearby window. Ximena let go of Christine's hand and walked over to the girl. "Hello, my name is Ximena. I'm eight-years-old. Who are you?" she said in her best English.
The girl looked at Ximena and smiled, "My name is Nayeli, I'm eight-years-old, too." Ximena smiled at the girl and they shook hands. Christine watched from the front desk as Ximena and Nayeli got along, she even smiled when the two girls realized they spoke the same native language. It hadn't even been a full week and Ximena has already made a friend.
