To the people who thought I was never going to complete this story, you're wrong. I just needed to get my thoughts organized. (Correct translation: I was having way too much fun writing my own fiction."
No beta, and I still don't own anything besides the things you don't recognize.
The bulk of this chapter might be just dialogue, but it should give you some valuable information.
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"This place," Estelle began "How am I to describe this place. It…it is a refugee camp. You are probably blissfully unaware of the fact that the rest of the world is teetering on political chaos. Several world leaders got together to decide on a good way to end it. They got their brightest minds together and the result was your former world. Of course, they needed people, so they kidnapped people with brown hair and eyes and gave them strict rules to follow and even harsher punishments. My parents were some of the last to be taken, I was eleven then, I am sixteen now.
"This place is a melting pot of different cultures, my Inuit, my friend's American, and a fellow boy's Algonquin are just some of the many. I have learned two more languages just by living here.
"We to have strict rules, but these do not govern the way we live, just the way we work. We work to improve the lives for the poor, the sick, and those from the sameness, as well as many others. As soon as you are strong again, you will be expected to work. It is hard, but there are many rewards. Was that a good explanation?"
"Fine" Jonas spit out.
Estelle assumed that he was too stunned to speak in a coherent sentence. She too had been shocked to discover the truth. Then her mind bounced around another possibility, that he was mad, that he had never really experienced such work as laying tracks for the ponies to pull the carts deep into the coal mines, as well as other tasks of that kind of manual labor.
"Maybe," Estelle thought "He will not adjust to living here, I did, but my old way of life was a hard way, working from morning to late afternoon. It may be too early to judge, but there is a strong possibility that this refugee will not like our way of life."
An old man got up from his seat by the center fire, and silently padded his way over to Estelle. He set his hand on her shoulder. She let out a little yelp and fell to the floor with surprise.
"Is the boy better?" He asked in a hushed tone.
"Not yet, but soon, he will be, uvlaakullunnii." Estelle replied
"And as for you, young lady, you'd better keep your wits about. I thought you were hard to startle. Work on it." He lectured.
"Aaf, savaktaksrabigiga." Came her frantic Inuit reply.
The old man retuned to his seat by the fire. He appeared to be deep in thought. Suddenly, his head whipped back in the direction of Estelle,
"Don't forget! Classes start tomorrow; he can go, as you say… uvlaakullunnii."
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Uvlaakullunnii-Maybe tomorrow
Aaf-Yes
Savaktaksrabigiga-I have to work on it