Aaron was nearly happy that his partner for the train ride had disappeared. [i]"Perhaps she was in the restroom?"[/i] Aaron thought. No matter.

Aaron slouched down in his chair, and propped his feet up on the empty chair across from him--on the very corner nearest the window, so as to not disturb Anne if she returned if he had fallen asleep.

And soon he did fall asleep; the rocking of the train had helped him, and soon he found himself in some sort of a darkened room. All around, was only smoke. He had a raging headache and stood up from the floor. 

All around the walls of the room, through the smoke, were pictures of his family--a very familiar portrait of his mother, fathers, and himself--as a child.

Noises grew in his ears. At first, indistinguishable. But then growing, until finally, he heard them for what there were--the screams of his late parents. 

The nightmare went on and on; taking turns Aaron had never wanted to remember, until finally, a jolt in the train had awakened him. 

Aaron's eyes flashed open to see the ceiling of his roomette. Blinking a few times, Aaron began to notice his surroundings. Nothing had changed--except for the tears streaming down his face. 

Fatigued, Aaron gazed out of the window and breathed heavily in his slouched position. It was going to be a long road to acceptance.