She knew that was the day she’d die.

When Esther woke up that morning, she untangled the garbage from her hair and hummed a little lullaby. She washed her face in the black water from the canal and tried to straighten her clothes. It was perfectly silly, but for the first time in her life, she wished she had more shoes than just one old, black boot, and prettier dresses than the faded blue one she’d been wearing for months now. In the end, she supposed, it probably didn’t matter. She took off to the streets with a hazy look in her eyes and a faint smile upon her lips.

A subway station.

That’s where she needed to go.

Underground transportation reminded the thirteen year old of the only time she’d ever had enough coins in her pocket to trade for a little bit of freedom. As Esther gingerly stepped over the concrete’s cracks and puddles of spilled coffee, she allowed her mind to drift to the past. Her memories were a steam of vibrant colors, flashing behind her eyelids whenever she blinked. The monochromatic station threatened to fade away at first, but the chattering of the crowd, the hissing of train doors, and the screeching of wheels against the tracks kept it alive.

She stepped up close to a train as people flowed out of it, drifting into other compartments, down hallways, up stairs and into the surface. The train began to move again and the lights in the tunnel flickered over her face as the compartments whizzed by. Esther took in a deep breath as the noises filled her mind; footsteps, conversations, trains darting into the darkness, laughter in the distance. It was uncontrolled and loud, and it made her wonder about the next world. How would it sound like?

She hooked her blonde hair behind her ears and then held her fingertips there. Esther would miss this noise. The buzzing and humming that made the grey station pulse with life. When she cupped her ears with her hands, it wasn’t because she was trying to shield away from the static of this world. She was trying to hold it there. She didn’t want to lose it.

Another train was approaching.

There was no need to turn around to know—Esther could see faint light crawling through the length of the passage. She could hear the coming shuttle and the footsteps of people as they backed away. She could hear everything.

“Excuse me.”

Someone was trying to reach her.

“L-little girl? Please, step back.”

Whoever was calling to her was hurrying their step, but the light in the passage grew. The noise of wheels rattling over tracks elevated, drowning out distant sounds.

“Excuse me!”

The train was closer, so much closer, five seconds away. Esther couldn’t tell if she felt fear or excitement—all she could do was grin from ear to ear. She couldn’t wait for what came next.

“GET BACK!”

She leaped into the tracks.