Tara lay on the track, pleading with her body to move, even just a little. She got lightheaded like this once in a while, but never in such a bad place, at such a bad time. She could see the five strangers on the other track—drunk college students, maybe?—lying passed out, unmoving. And getting closer and closer, an oncoming trolley, accompanied by the frantic squeal of failing brakes.
There, past the tracks—a familiar figure walking by, wearing the same uniform as Tara. The passerby froze as she took in the scene, cold dread filling her face. She was shouting something Tara couldn’t hear over the noise of the trolley. Next to her was the lever that controlled the junction—that controlled who the runaway trolley would hit. It was heading toward the college students, right? But the girl—the lever—she could save them—in exchange for—
Tara tried to imagine the terrible logic playing out in the other girl’s head, the impossible choice facing her. What would Tara do in her position? She had no idea.
Whatever you choose…it’s all right. I… I understand.
Tara shut her eyes tight.
Tara stood at the crossing, waiting for the trolley to pass and the gates to lift. Her eyes were screwed shut, just like they’d been the moment it happened, but the noises were still echoing in her head even now.
“…ra?” A concerned voice cut through the memories. “Tara?”
Tara’s eyes slowly opened to meet Lauren’s—tinged with worry and with something else hard to place, glimmering in those inky depths.
“What’s wrong, Tara?”
“I… I just…” Tara exhaled shakily. She didn’t want to lie to Lauren, not after everything. But the truth was sticking in her throat.
Lauren stared silently back at her, perfectly attentive, eyes still fixed on Tara’s.
Gradually, Tara forced the words out. “Sometimes…I feel like it—it would’ve been better if I’d…died, back there.” Her eyes were downcast, afraid to hold Lauren’s gaze. “N-not that I want to die or anything!” she hurriedly added. “It’s just…those five people on the other track, they had lives of their own too, and there’s just one of me, and I— B-but I’m not saying you should’ve pulled the lever, I know that’d be like you were k-killing me yourself, and I’d never want to put that on your conscience, I just—”
“Tara.”
Flinching at the edge in Lauren’s voice, Tara finally looked back at Lauren again. That nameless something in her eyes was brighter now, sharper.
“Tara. You matter. You matter so, so much. You deserve to live—don’t ever tell yourself otherwise.” Lauren’s hands reached out to grip Tara’s shoulders. “Maybe you can’t see how precious you are, but I can. You’re a flower in bloom, a bird in flight, a blazing star lighting up the world.” The total, unabashed conviction in Lauren’s voice sent Tara’s cheeks reddening. “Your life is important, Tara. You’re important. Trust me.”
Wide-eyed and blushing, Tara stared back at Lauren. “But— But I can’t be as important as five other— No, never mind.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I, uh… Thanks, Lauren. Nobody’s ever really, um, said that sort of stuff to me before. I just… Yeah. I deserve to live. I’ll try to remember that more. And besides, if you hadn’t walked by, if there hadn’t been anyone by the lever, things would’ve turned out just the same, right? What happened happened, and it’s not my fault or yours.”
Lauren said nothing for several seconds. Her eyes gazed deep into Tara’s, almost searchingly, the something swirling and glimmering still brighter and stranger.
“That’s right. It’s not your fault, Tara.”