The last dance

May 16th, 2000 - Night

The giggles and chatter on the train, mixed with the lively tunes of a band playing near the rear carriage, created an atmosphere both exhilarating and surreal. The dim glow of the overhead lights flickered slightly, as if trying to keep up with the energy of the passengers.

Daniella sat with her book open on her lap, her eyes skimming the same paragraph for the third time. Two women beside her were deep in conversation, their laughter blending with the upbeat rhythm of a tambourine. Someone whistled loudly from the other end of the carriage.

She sighed and snapped her book shut. I can't read in all this chaos, she thought, her lips curling into an amused smile. She tucked the book into her bag and looked around.

"If they want fun, let's give them fun," she muttered to herself.

With a boldness she didn't often allow herself to feel, Daniella stood, smoothing her dress. She began clapping along to the beat, her hands rising above her head in time with the music. Her hips swayed gently, and soon, she was spinning in place, letting the fabric of her dress twirl out around her.

The infectious energy spread like wildfire. Cheers erupted as others rose to join her, their inhibitions melting away. A man in a suit and tie kicked off his shoes to dance. A group of teenagers formed a circle, taking turns showing off their moves. Laughter, music, and applause filled the train.

A small girl with curly hair and wide, curious eyes watched Daniella with a grin. Daniella bent down, held out her hands, and asked, "Want to dance?"

The girl nodded eagerly, placing her tiny hands in Daniella's. Together, they spun and giggled, the girl's laugh high and pure, like a bell ringing through the air. The crowd clapped in time as the pair twirled and swayed.

For Daniella, it felt like magic—one of those rare, unfiltered moments when the world's weight faded, leaving only joy. She caught her reflection in the window and barely recognized herself, her usual guarded expression replaced with pure, uninhibited delight.

But the magic couldn't last. She knew that. In less than an hour, the train would stop. The laughter and camaraderie would dissolve as people scattered to their separate lives, their shared joy becoming nothing more than a fleeting memory.

An elderly couple, likely in their 60s, sat quietly near the window, their hands intertwined. The woman's eyes sparkled with something between nostalgia and yearning as she watched the scene. Daniella approached them with a playful smile and extended her hands.

"Come on," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "Let's dance."

The man chuckled, shaking his head at first, but his wife was already rising, tugging at his hand. "Don't be a stick in the mud, George! she teased.

Relenting, George stood, his movements tentative at first. But as Daniella led them into the circle of dancers, their steps grew more confident. Soon, they were moving with surprising grace, drawing applause from the crowd.

The train had transformed into a rolling festival. Every corner of the carriage pulsed with life—singing, clapping, dancing. The music seemed endless, as if the train itself was alive and feeding on the passengers' joy.

But then, a sharp shout from the conductor cut through the noise like a knife.

"Everyone! Brace yourselves!"

The music stopped. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Every face turned toward the front of the carriage, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

Before anyone could react, a deafening thud rattled the entire train. The lights flickered and died, plunging them into darkness. Screams filled the air as bodies lurched forward, thrown by the sudden, violent impact.

The train had collided with something—another train. 

Daniella's head slammed against the wall, and stars danced in her vision. Her ears rang as chaos erupted around her. She struggled to stay conscious, her fingers gripping the cold metal pole beside her. Then everything went dark .