In the deep, isolated Underground,
Where shadows dance and secrets trace,
There dwells a soul with fire bright,
yearning for the unseen light.
Katrina, with her heart so bold,
In search of truths yet to unfold,
Her dreams of freedom, vast and wide,
Her spirit soaring, unconfined.
With every step, she forged ahead,
Through darkness deep, her path she tread,
But in the silence, echoes ring,
Of lost and sorrow's sting.
For in the end, when all was won,
And her journey in the Underground was done,
She found herself alone, bereft,
With wounds that time could not forget.
So let the world see her scars and her plight,
For her spirit shines ever bright.
With limbs of steel and a heart of gold,
She walks her path, bold and untold.
So let the echoes fade away,
For Katrina will not be led astray,
Her journey's end may seem forlorn,
But from the ashes, she'll be reborn.
Written by Xiaolan D.
Katrina finds Esra sitting in front of a class of children, going through their timetables. Paper, card, and other craft materials line the walls of the new Overground school building. Finger paintings, drawings of imaginary creatures fill display boards, even art from older classes still decorate the back of the class. If she looks long enough Katrina should be able to find one of her own creations from all those years ago. After one last question Esra dismisses the class and they fly past Katrina towards the playground outside, the bright sun shining down on them.
Esra beams up at Katrina as she shows her all the botany books she could find, each with beautiful illustrations the likes of which would be a wild fantasy only months ago in the Underground. So they both begin explaining what they could find out about all these wondrous plants, what they understood about the field and hatched plans for how Katrina may continue their education. Many times they both have to stop to laugh, the years of friendship and comforting conversation bringing back nostalgia and fond memories.
And many times they both have to stop to cry, maybe not with physical tears but with those moments of quiet shared sorrow and reflection. Because those fond memories often only serve to remind them of what they’ve both lost. How each day Katrina must relive being on that train which wouldn’t slow down, which brakes wouldn’t work. How each day Esra walks back to an empty home, how Esra and Katrina have lost a wife and a friend, one of the few sources of light in the darkness that surrounded Katrina in the Underground. It’s those days that they sit, watching as the small plants that they have planted slowly grow on the windowsill, grieving together.
Katrina goes alone to the garden that they made together, plants from all across the world inhabit this space by the school, an oasis in the desert. A desk sits in the middle of the cared for and nurtured environment with two seats. Stacks of academic books on botany litter the table from their last session many weeks ago. She can still smell the hospital sanitiser on her hands, can still remember the last breaths of Esra. Being back here is enough to feel all the loss, to recall everything that’s happened, everyone that is gone. But it is also enough to remember everything that she has done despite that, to remember the Overground that they’ve discovered, the world that they’ve given all of Esra’s students, the garden that they made together.