(LOLOLOLOL)
Reagan's head hurt from hitting the wall, but she didn't care. She was laughing so hard that her face was turning blue. Then suddenly she was in another place. The lights were dim and there was smoke of some sort in the air. Reagan wasn't laughing now. There was a scary and depressing feel to this room, and she didn't like it. In the middle of the room, there was a long table and chairs with more men in suits seated in them. A few of them were smoking and they looked intrigued in the presentation that an important-looking man was giving in the front of the room. "And here," he said, pointing to a picture with a slash through it, "was the last person we terminated." Reagan could only watch in horror as she stared at the wall with pictures of faces with large red x's through the faces. There was one that especially caught her eye, however. Right there, in the middle of the wall of pictures, was the smiling face of her mother, holding a 5-year-old Reagan. Her mother's face had an x through it. "And this girl right here," the man continued, circling Reagan's face with a blue Sharpie, "is our next target."