But those were small miseries compared to the terror of her dreams. At those times, in the enormous mileage of sleep, she had never felt so completely alone. (The Book Thief, pg 39).

*** SOME FACTS***

Even in her dreams, Liesel wasn't

allowed to see her mother.

It was blinding white, she couldn't see where the sky ended and the ground began. Liesel's bare feet crunched against the snow. It was hard and slick, at first it felt like she could almost skate over the top, but as her pale foot would lean its weight against the iced surface, her feet would fall down in the enveloping crushed snow. Despite the chill, the only thing that bothered her was the fact that she was alone. A tremor unwillingly ran through her small frame, and tears leaked out of her eyes. Sniffling, she desperately searched for her mother. Liesel was certain that her mother would not just leave her alone, she had to be here somewhere. Wherever her brother was, her mother would be there with him.

Her brother.

For some reason, the mere thought of her brother sent another chill running up her spine. Her breath hitched in her throat, the loneliness was suffocating. Although her chest heaved up and down, Liesel felt no breath escape her throat. For a moment she thought she was dying. Dying of panic.

Dying of fear. Fear that she would always be alone.

Brown appeared in the distance, blotting out the brightness. Brownshirts. She tried turning around to flee, somehow she knew what would happen if they reached her. She closed her eyes and willed them away. All she wanted was to see her mother again. Trepidation crept in her body, Liesel's heart pounded. She might have cried if the anxiety didn't have her gripped in its talons. She closed her eyes and willed them away. They came anyway. Surprisingly, she let them drag her away. Liesel knew what was next, what always happened next. Liesel watched her limp, bloodless feet drag over the broken snow, as the brownshirts firmly carried her along. But once she saw the train appear, she started squirming. This train. This train, where she last saw her brother alive. She knew what was waiting, she didn't want to walk in, but she had no choice. With almost gentle hands, Liesel was pressed up into the train. Maybe mama was inside, she tried reassuring herself. But she wasn't. She never was. A prickling climbed up her neck. It was too silent, no one was here anymore to guide her. One small step forward, another shaking step forward.

Even if she screamed loud enough for it to reach the surrounding miles, still no one would hear. She was truly alone. The worn rug burned underneath Liesel's feet. The door leading to their compartment was open. The sunlight streamed in through the window, creating an almost heavenly picture. She walked in the compartment, looking down at the faded red carpeting.

There was a soft noise. As if something had fallen onto a soft pillow and made the quietest of sounds. Involuntarily, she looked up. He was lying down. Fragile limbs limply hung off the end of the seat. Slow, Liesel approached her brother's dead body. She saw his bloodless face, where there was nothing left anymore. No life. His eyes were open. Staring at her, staring through her, and yet seeing nothing. He didn't see, he didn't feel anymore, and yet his features were permanently etched in an accusing glare, directed at her. "Mama." She whimpered, reaching her hand out to her absent mother. Closing her eyes, Liesel tried to make herself disappear. But of course, when she opened her eyes, her dead brother was still there, staring with sightless eyes. She knew that if she tried closing her eyes again, she would only see her brother. The image would forever be burned in her mind. There was nothing left to do but scream. When Liesel woke up, she was still screaming. She had wet the bed.