[right][color=slategray][u][b]Marlowe Tolfell[/b][/u][/color][/right] There's a certain type of hopelessness that can't be ignored. No amount of day dreaming calms the nerves or makes things better, and no number of reassuring words or muttered prayers bring comfort. This was a problem for professional day dreamer, Marlowe Tolfell, who wanted nothing more than the illusion that things were less bad than they really were. It was there now, filling the train like a bad smell. A sort of sadness that was loud in the quiet. You could hear it if you listened: tapping fingers from nervous habit, quiet sobs from scared children, and the intense silence. No one wanted to say anything, they were too scared. Some feared being disciplined, but most just wanted to be able to pretend that this wasn't happening, if only for a little longer. Or at least that's what Marlowe wanted. She didn't know what to do with herself. She was tired and hungry, but she couldn't sleep and the chances of a hot meal in her future were less than slim. So she did nothing. She kept doing nothing for a long time. After a while the minutes and hours all blurred together into one big headache. Time became just a word rather than a concept, or a study, or a definition. This went on until finally the train eased to a stop, wheels creaking tiredly, and then there was light. With the light there came shouting, pushing, pulling, and a man in an olive jacket. It was, bluntly, a[i] hot mess[/i]. Even once they had been ushered off of the train, there was still more shoving and squeezing and even some trampling. Everything had felt surreal up until now, but it was starting to get to her. Marlowe was getting scared. She felt so tiny in the bundle of hysterical people. There were so many of them, but she thought she could have been the smallest of them all. It was overwhelming. The guards were being unnecessarily rough, people were packed so tightly that it was hard not to knock into someone else and she was no exception. Everyone was forced closer to the center, where the man with the olive suit stood impatiently waiting. He talked loud and stood tall. He was trying to be intimidating, and it worked. There was something about Sir that was like a slap in the face. It all felt very real now, and she was scared. So, so scared. Marlowe couldn't do anything as she was nudged into line, questioned, ID'd and given her sleepwear. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts over the sound of her heart racing. For a long few minutes she just stood there, unable to process everything that was happening. The last however-long had been a blur, she was supposed to find a bed, change her clothes, but did it really matter? Marlowe couldn't think straight. After wasting some time digesting the situation, she managed to find an open mattress. She didn't see who was on the top bunk, she didn't even know if there was anyone on it yet. Marlowe got dressed quickly. She was too shocked to be embarrassed and too scared to care how big her pants were. Everyone was too busy getting the grips on themselves to care about some flat-chested girl getting changed, anyway. This was a place full of scared kids, not perverts. She considered it safer in here than any of the other places she'd been these last twenty four hours, although that didn't mean she felt safe. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marlowe wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting up in her bed, but her hands had finally stopped shaking. Now that she'd calmed down, she saw that her wrist was swollen and a little bruised. She'd probably done it during the hectic speech earlier but she couldn't feel it, and either way it didn't matter. For the first time she took a minute to look around her. Everyone was very focused on themselves. It wasn't a bad thing, most of them didn't know anyone there, although she saw a few people coupled up here and there. She wasn't exactly in the mood to make new friends herself, but it was a little reassuring to see that she wasn't the only one freaking out. She was one of the oldest ones there. Marlowe saw plenty of red eyes and solemn faces, a good amount of people were nursing minor wounds from earlier, and there was a lot of anger. There was an older boy at a nearby bunk who looked especially stressed. He had his hands over his ears and he was muttering to himself, but Marlowe didn't know whether or not she should say anything. Why would she? She didn't know him, and she didn't know how to comfort herself right now, let alone anyone else. After a few minutes the murmuring stopped and he sat up, looking as tired as she felt. Marlowe realised she was staring when he suddenly looked right at her, his eyes glossy. She went stiff, but after a few seconds she figured out that he wasn't really looking at her so much as looking at anything. Marlowe was pretty sure she'd been like that, too, up until a couple of minutes ago. [color=slategray]"Are you, er, okay?"[/color] Marlowe asked him quietly. She felt extremely awkward. It was the first time she'd talked optionally since the beginning of this whole ordeal and she hadn't really meant to. It just happened. Her voice was thick and crackly, and she spoke so quietly she wasn't even sure if he'd heard her. If he hadn't, it might be for the best. What kind of a conversation could they possibly have right now? Not a healthy one.