She's Got a Bright Future Ahead
By Emily Gregg
On the morning of her daughter’s first day of kindergarten, Eve watched Lily form confident lines with a freshly sharpened pencil. One last practice at writing her name, though to Eve’s disappointment, Lily insisted on Lilith.
Lilith had always been ahead of her peers. As she dotted the second i, Eve recalled her first months. A tiny fist, strong enough to crush bone. A crooked, close-lipped grin weeks earlier than expected, eliciting adorations from strangers on the street. The sound of her first word. Not mama, as expected, or dada, as Eve did not know which man deserved the title. Lilith’s first word, babbled on the coldest night of the year when scant branches scratched at the window of her nursery, was burn.
The walk to school was brief. After fixing the collar of Lilith’s new dress, Eve glanced over the railroad crossing to the school. “Let’s race to the door? It won’t seem so scary if—”
Lilith took off down the sidewalk, sandals clapping against cracked cement. Eve followed at a steady gait until the clang of bells set fire to her feet. Lilith entered the tracks just as the railroad barrier began to fall.
“Lil’, come back!” Eve shouted, panting, panicked.
Lilith grinned, close-lipped and crooked. “Come to me, mommy.”
Eve reached the tracks along with the heavy-handed blare of a horn. After seizing her daughter’s outstretched hand, Eve pulled. Lilith didn’t budge, as her sandal was stuck under a wooden cross tie. Eve crashed to her knees. Sweaty fingers slipped on the tiny buckle. “I need my other hand, Lil’.”
“That isn’t my name, mommy,” Lilith said, tightening her grip.
Eve released the gel-like straps with one hand, her other numb from the crush of Lilith’s fist. She bent to scoop her daughter into her arms as the ground rumbled beneath them. Certain death thundered from the right.
Lilith ducked, then yanked, then slammed Eve into the rail. A broken wrist. A cracked skull. A scream muffled by the hum of vibrating metal against skin
***
Lilith took a quick step off the tracks. The orange and red lace of her dress fluttered in the warm breeze from the train as it barreled past, just out of reach.
“I win,” Lilith whispered, then skipped toward the school, windows vibrant with letters and numbers and finger-painted stick figures.