It takes only a few minutes, but the room falls deadly silent. I think everyone is tucked in, trying to sleep as they think of our escape tomorrow. It feels too soon, too rushed. We’re too unprepared. But it’s our best chance. I don’t know when any other events are planned. I only remember this one because my mom bribed me with a day out shopping with her if I attended. They always gave away a limited number of tickets to locals. Mom and Dad volunteered with local organizations so were always chosen.

I never like going to fund-raisers. They’re full of rich people who have every door open to them, every chance and opportunity to have the best life. They hand away lots of money without a second thought, as if it’s nothing.

I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go to college because I have no savings, and my parents always end up having to spend theirs on car repairs and other things that crop up too often.

My family works so hard for having such little spare cash.

But that doesn’t matter right now. Nothing but getting free matters, and these look how much money we have and how much we care by donating parties may actually work in our favor now.

The room is so silent, I feel like I’ve gone deaf. It’s eerie how quiet a place can be with five people in close proximity.

I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. I can just about make out the shapes of a few patches on the white paint. One is a bumpy pyramid like a piece of candy and another resembles a half moon.

My eyes move from shape to shape, trying to form something else. I’m tired enough to fall asleep, and my heavy limbs are glued to the bed, unable to move an inch. But my mind isn’t willing to give up the fight.

What if I dream about it?

I can still feel the cold, soaking-wet towel on my face and the water pounding down as Caleb poured more and more and more.

When I’m awake, I can force myself to think of something else, but when I sleep, I’m not in control. If I wake up upset from a nightmare, they might see and then they will win. I’d rather be tired. At least my body is resting here, I can do without switching off completely for one night.

By tomorrow, I could be out of here anyway.

I bite my lip and the seconds tick by, rolling into minutes.

Across the room, Theo enters into a deeper sleep and starts to breathe heavily. The sound, usually a bit irritating, is comforting tonight. I know there are other people in the room with me. I’m not alone, but I feel it more now that there is some noise.