After the whole drama finally seized down with the feral lady and her children. Everyone carried on with their devastating day, waiting to be next in line. When her mother asked if she was bored, Miyana didn’t lie. She was completely overwhelmed by boredom while she waited. Gossip and terror were brought about when a few mothers and children with irremovable red paint on their foreheads were dragged onto a train.

When an hour has passed, the line where the worker who was evaluating pregnant women reached the end earlier than the other three lanes. She resumed the red-head task, while the red-head continued down the line, where the protagonist and her mother were waiting.

After speaking with several people before them, it was now their turn. She asked a series of personal questions, including which city we used to live in before escaping, any military relatives, and what my mother's ranking was. The most challenging part was what came next. She requested birth certifications and other documentation.

Miyana heard a familiar laugh coming from all around the organized crowd. While her mother was enduring her time uttering nonsense to the redhead while rummaging around her bag. She couldn’t identify where she recalls that laughter, but it got her attention. “Do you hear that man laughing loudly?” Miyana explained the type of laughter she hears to the two adults, who were looking at her in confusion. Nobody saw or heard anyone laughing.

Passing the counterfeited documents to the red-headed woman, a strong gust of wind suddenly blew debris from the train tracks towards her direction, distracting her momentarily to give the documents back. Papers among papers of the children and parents, that she recorded down, flew into the air. Her mother was handed a pen and label pin to write down information about the town she was assigned Miyana to live in.

“Poor soul. Luckily for us, we don’t need to show that hawk of a supervisor your documentation anymore. She said to her daughter in a whisper. Miya watched her mother proceeding to pin the label onto the oversize coat Miya was wearing. It provided additional information about the commentary the red-head mentioned earlier, as well as who Miya’s father was. The front of the label already had the town she will be headed and the housing that will be responsible for her stamped on.

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Her heart was throbbing wildly. “This is the end.” She was thinking to herself. The feeling people have when they are getting nervous was nothing compared to what she was feeling at the moment. If butterflies are supposed to be uncomfortable for other people. Miyana was beginning to sense those butterflies in her stomach, but now they seemed like wasps were swarming within her, pulling and tugging at everything within. Feeling a bit queasy, she contained her food down, as she held onto her mother’s arm.

Everything was in place and settled after that. Her mother took her supplies from the building that one of the lady workers passed on to her. “Time is rapidly escaping us.” Her mother whispered. Everyone was supposed to leave this location before noon. The place would soon be deserted until the next load of passengers show up the following day.

Meaning that Miyana would soon need to be placed onto another vehicle as quickly as possible before it gets too full. To get an early start for the next group of kids who will be transported at a later time. Mothers and children were holding on to one another. Expected soon-to-be mothers rushed to the empty vehicles before they were full. Everyone was sobbing or running. The remaining trains urged those with cargo to hurry, with the final blow of their devil horn.

Miyana and her mother rushed as they looked back at the lines that they waited. People began fighting and shoving each other in order to get onto the rides. Things were happening too fast. Why was everything happening so quickly? Was this really going to be the last time she saw her mother after all this settled down?

When her mother attempted to place her in one of the cargo vehicles, she held firmly, clutching her mother's arm. She was reluctant to move from her kneeling position, and she was unable to move much at all. She watched her mother force, other adults, out of the way as the heavy droplets ran down her cheeks.

“You are all that I have left.” She cried out as loudly as she could, but her cries were not strong enough to overcome the crowd's noise. Her mother struggled to keep a close hold of her cargo as others pushed it further away. “Please, please.” She spoke, looking down at her mother’s dry hand. The rings she fiddled with were gone.