“Can I hold mine?” Anne asked.

“Your a little too young honey. I’m just going to hold it with mine in case something happens ok?” Mom was trying to be patient but her voice had gone up a pitch. It only did that when she was frustrated with us but was trying to be patient and not yell. The tickets wrinkled under the pressure of her fingers. The tips were turning white while her blood pulled in the rest turning it a purple red. Dad grabbed her hand and gave a quick squeeze, trying to help her relax.

“You don’t want to carry it anyway.” I whispered. When she looked up at me, I winked, hoping to make her feel better.

Anne quickly wiped away the tears starting to form in her eyes. She smiled absently. Mom pushed open the dark red doors of the train station and motioned for us to go inside after my father. I had never been in a train station before. The metal floor clicked under our feet and shook as the train came in. The dark grey metal had been sun-bleached from where a thousand dragging feet collected the color onto their soles. We followed those same tracks to the conductor and onto the train.

The conductor was an old pudgy man. His uniform hung loosely around him but clung to his belly. The buttons tried to hold onto the other fabric, like two young girls tightly holding on to each other despite the officers who tugged on their mid-sections to make them let go. Dad took the tickets from mom’s clenched hand and handed them to the conductor. He looked at the tickets and then warily looked at us. He shook his head but punched the tickets anyways, motioning for us to proceed. As we walked away, the man grabbed my father’s arm and whispered something into his ear. Mom ushered us onto the train before I could hear what he said but dad stayed behind.

The train was already full of people. Anne had saw a baby boy playing with his mother on her lap. He gurgled and giggled as she bounced him back and forth from leg to leg. Anne waved and smiled causing him to grin.

“Girls, hurry up. We need to find our seats.” Mom pushed through the crowded ally until she found four open seats facing one another. Anne and I took the window seats. The train station had filled up with people trying to hurry to their trains. Conductors were ushering the people onto different paths. He would point and the people would leave. I watched as our pudgy conductor checked another family’s tickets. His eyebrows creased up and his mouth moved quickly. I couldn’t quite make out what he said but he blew into the whistle that hung around his neck. Several men in red ran up and grabbed the family members. The red men squeezed their arms, causing them to fall. One of the boys jerked his arm away, punched the officer and ran. He dodged through the conductors and other passengers as the red officer chased after him. The officer pulled a gun. Everyone fell to the ground. The boy was still running. He was almost at the door when the officer shot. He fell to the ground, pulling his legs up to his chest. I couldn’t hear him screaming but I knew he was; I would. The officer walked up to him and pointed the gun towards him.

Mom reached around me and closed the blinds on the window.

“That’s none of our business, Ashley.” She pulled me in for a hug, giving me a quick squeeze. I didn’t understand what happened or if that boy was ok or what he even did wrong.

“They must have been rebels. He shouldn’t have run.” Anne’s words were soft but loud enough for us to hear. Nobody noticed that she was looking out the window too. Her words chilled Mom. I could feel the goosebumps rise on her arms, even as she reached out to pull Anne into her lap too.