After a while I managed to get Spencer and myself into the small tent just outside the graveyard. It was extremely tiny, just big enough for maybe one in a half people and on the side a teeny bit more room for a pile of clothes and a bag of food. I laid Spencer flat on the sleeping bag, lying half on top of the blond. She was still crying and clinging hard to my shirt. I had never heard someone cry for so long, it had been easily and hour since the other girl started. In the City you don’t cry it’s just how it is. Once when I was little a boy in my class fell and broke his leg and was sobbing, a grown up came over and injected him with a shot, soon he was smiling again but after his leg healed he was reprimanded for crying, it’s a sign of weakness and no one in the City is weak.

I held her with out saying anything; I wasn’t sure what to say because I honestly had no clue why she was crying so hard and long for. With thunder and lightning echoing and flashing outside the tent while rain loudly fell all around them. It reminded me of a time long ago when I was little, maybe five years old and my mom came in knowing how the thunderstorm scared me. She pulled a book out from behind her back and told me a that it was a forbidden fantasy book, a children’s book which was to be burned but was hidden from the government. Those stories made me feel good inside, gave me the idea of happy endings and love conquering anything.

Soon Spencer’s sobs quieted down to sniffles, her head buried in my neck; hot tears soaked my shirt even more than the rain. Leaning up a bit I stared down at her while her red rimmed blue eyes stared back. God even after all the crying she was still the most beautiful creature I had laid my sights on, “You okay?” At the sound of my voice her sniffles turned violent again until soon she was shaking in my arms, “Spencer shhhh…everything is okay,” but it did nothing to help. Sighing I thought back to my mom and the thunderstorm again, her sweet voice echoing in my mind with the words of my favorite story. Grabbing a blanket I wrapped us both in it while stroking her hair whispering the words my mother used to read…