Cold rain splatters a tip-tap sort of sound on the outside of my window. The train exhales with a solemn blow, and the steel doors begin to shut violently. The sullen conductor slowly takes another glance at the young homeless children, and shakes his head with remorse. Noises of inaudible pain and suffering fill the ears of the parent-less children who tremble in their leather train seats. I clutch the worn down, paper name ticket that lightly brushes my worn coat and shift my gaze to the lonely girl that stares back at me in the fogged window. I silently examine the reflection in the frozen, condensated window, eyes wandering across it in search of some form of hope. 

My brother and I cower in the twentieth seat from the front, dressed head to toe in warm layers our mother had dressed us in to prepare for the long journey ahead. I turn to look at his cold, pale face and an instinctive lie takes the place of where a chapped frown once grimaced. A toothy, disingenuous lie spreads across my face like kudzu, growing over the despondent expression it held before. It quickly masks my pale face with a sort of unfamiliar, dubious, fake joy.  My hands soon meet my lips, touching and feeling the fib that the reflection spat at me, trying to distinguish the truly genuine expression. I shake my small head and remember what my mother reminded us of for the past few days. 

“Always remember that Mum and Dad love you, remember that we always will, no matter how far apart we are.” She would repeat, filling our ears. “The countryside is a better place for you and Charlie, much safer.” 

I intertwine my fingers with Charlie's and hold him tight, wrinkling his small, burgundy coat. He slowly starts to turn his head to look back at our mother who stood waving in the fog of despair. I, too, long to look at her beautiful, warm face just one more time, but I quickly move over to block the fogged window's view. "No, she said not to look back Charlie, we can’t,”my voice cracks. He frowns glumly and lets his head fall onto my cold shoulder. I run my fingers through his soft, umber tinted hair and a tear falls from my cheek. The masked lie that brightened my pale face soon fades away, and the truth that our home would be destroyed by the time we return abolishes any hope that could grow inside of my heart. The train’s wheels begin to churn and in the dark, cloudy sky of fear, a glistening rainbow shows in the far distance.