She was gone when I woke up. Violet, and the boxes too. After our conversation, she had seemed to want to stop talking, but we were still stuck together in the middle of a storm. We had positioned a box between us and leaned against the door frame of the building, then stared off at the flying debris. It had seemed to me that the howling wind would never let me rest, but I guess Cece's plan had been keeping me up during most nights. I had really wished that the distraction from the storm would have kept Violet from hearing my sniffles. The storm was causing so much pain. It was taking me a lot to keep from straight out bawling, but her presence was silently commanding me to keep my noise to a minimum. She looked over at me every once in a while, then shook her head and stared resolutely away without saying a word. I could tell that she was not the type of person to pity me or sympathize with me. There are a few reactions to my excessive emotion. Most people treat me really...
"I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he feels strange and stupid." -Lois Lowry, The Giver