Milo

You ever live on something that never stops? This train the Arkline just keeps moving. Through frozen mountains, through fire-blasted deserts. Because if it ever stops… we die. The world outside’s already dead. The rich saved themselves by building this place. The rest of us? We’re the ones they use to keep it running. I’m Milo. Sixteen. I live in The Tail, the last car, where the walls sweat in the heat and freeze at night. My little brother, Ezra, he’s only four. We lost our parents getting on this train. They died so we could live. If you call this living. Food comes once a day. A bowl of something grey and tasteless. I give Ezra my share most days. He needs it more. I say I’m not hungry, but some days… my body says otherwise. I shake. I can’t move. I black out against the wall. And when I do, Ezra takes care of me. It’s not fair. He’s just a kid, but he pulls my hood down, touches my forehead with his tiny hands, says, “You’re cold again… Milo, please eat.” Then he tries to feed me the food I gave him. Wraps me in his shirt like it’ll save me from the cold. And sometimes I let him. Because I can’t fight anymore. If I protest when the guards come for him, if I say even one word… they’ll hurt me. Or worse. So I stay silent and let them take him to the engine tunnels. The thing I hate most? A part of me doesn’t hate being used. The pain… it’s proof I’m still here. When they hurt me, at least they know I exist. But Ezra sees me. The real me. Not the ghost the train made. When I cry in the dark, too tired to hide it, he climbs into my lap and says, “It’s okay. I’m here.” And in that moment, I believe him. I don’t believe in the sky anymore. But I believe in him. Even if this train destroys me… as long as Ezra survives, I’ll keep going.