Joy gripped her emergency kit prepared by her Avox. Joy knew she'd never see her Avox again.
"Thank you." Joy whispered.
Her Avox nodded, and Joy took note of how beautiful her Avox was; perfect face proportions, gleaming blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. The Avox was no longer Joy's. It was time to let go.
Dread hung in the air, and Joy wondered how she could ever be happy again. Her house would soon be incinerated, if her father's security agents were correct. Joy hoped the war between the Capitol and the districts would end. She held her brother's hand.
"Off to shelter number six!" their mother said, trying to be cheerful.
They walked across their manicured front lawn and faced a taxi, which was waiting on them. Joy, her brother, and her mother nodded at their chauffer.
"Shelter six, Herman. I assume you know where it is." Their mother said.
"Yes ma'am." Herman said grimly.
Joy could see his squinty black eyes water, but Joy's thoughts occupied her completely. She worried about her father, who wasn't with them. She missed her house already. She hadn't wanted anything to change. It seemed as if she was thrown into an apocalyptic, futuristic world. She hoped the shelter was safe, and not blown up by the districts' bombs.
The shelter looked like an old-fashioned school. It was made of concrete, with no windows. The doors looked heavy and the lot in front of the shelter was empty.
"Thank you, Herman." Joy's mother said politely.
"Thank you, Tulima." Herman smiled.
As Joy's mother pushed the shelter door open, Joy gasped. A gun was pointed at her mother's head.
"Put that away! She didn't do anything wrong!" Joy yelled desperately.
The two men looked at each other and chortled a bit.
"Your identification, ma'am?" one of them said pointedly.
Joy's mother nervously fumbled with her purse and showed them her driver's license. Joy assumed they approved they approved because the man with the gun put it back onto his bulky belt.
"How old are the kids?"
"He's 12, and she's 14."
The taller man turned to face Joy and her brother.
"What is your full name?" He asked Joy's brother.
"Castone Froll Crane." and he nervously brushed his brown hair to the side.
"And you?"
"Joy Malt Crane." Joy said, her voice wavering.
"Go on ahead. Your room number is 45." The peacekeeper dropped a silver key into her mother's hand.
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