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He’s sleeping now. We’re still here. All alone. Of all the places we’ve been, I hate this one the most. I don’t know time, but it feels like the forever-est place we’ve ever stayed. I sneak away from him and find my backpack. It’s the one thing that is mine and only mine. I have all kinds of things in it. I’m not supposed to take things from other people in case the bad people put a camera in them or a microphone or something, but at the very bottom of the bag I hid some things that I got when I was in the normal world. A doll. A teddy bear. A Lego set of women who went into space.

I wish I could go to space. There wouldn’t be any bad people and I would be far, far away from him and from being lonely and being careful all the time and hungry.

I don’t get any of my secret things out. Instead, I find my big box of crayons and the coloring book that he gave me. It was one of the best special treats he ever bought me. I’ve colored all the pictures already and now I’m filling in all the places where there is no color, drawing my favorite things. My red crayon is just a small thing now. Even the wrapper is gone. Today I don’t want to use it anymore because it reminds me of the blood.

Whose blood?

The whisper is back.