It was loud. Too loud.

Not only that, but the colours were jarring, and wrong. Like someone had cranked up the saturation, rendering the subway and its commuters to be lost in a mass of unpleasant hues.

Everything except for the little girl, it seemed.

She blinked a few times, looking around from the safety of the sidelines. A plethora of platforms and rail lines levitated above and below her, connected only by escalators and stairs. Subway trains sped past, occasionally stopping to load before screeching away. Everywhere the little girl looked, streams of people bustled about, eager to catch the next train that would take them to anywhere in the world.

That was the rumour, at least. But the little girl had learned that rumours could take her to the most interesting places, and this was no exception.

Weaving through the crowd, she came to a digital subway map. It made little sense to her; the colourful lines that sprawled over each other were nothing like what she'd imagined the outside world would be. White dots along the subway routes were labelled with the names of near and far away places.

So different. So different from the small, suffocating orphanage she'd run away from.

She turned around, and after a moment of hesitation, mustered the courage to tug a woman's sleeve. "Excuse me ma'am, can you--"

The woman jerked her arm away and rushed past.

The little girl bit her lip. She made eye contact with a man carrying a briefcase. "Hello, I'm trying--"

"Sorry miss, I'm trying to get somewhere too." He gave her a strange look before disappearing around the corner.

Maybe it was a mistake to hope for something that sounded too good to be true. And sure, the subway was much like walking into another world, but somehow she had envisioned the people to be less...cold.

A small part of her yearned for the familiarity of the orphanage. It hadn't made her feel loved, no. The rooms were too cramped and the caretaker was too cold for love. But until now, her life had always been simple. Quiet. And very dull.

It didn't make sense, to mull over the life she was so close to escaping. But she suspected that being contradictory was not uncommon--at least, not here.

Something green caught her eye. Not the neon shade that matched the peculiar fashion statement adored by everyone else here, but a natural, forest green. The girl turned to see an odd little man standing near a set of stairs.

She looked around again before walking up to him. "Hello," she ventured.

He tipped his bowler hat. His crinkled eyes met her inquisitive ones. "A pleasure to meet you, young miss."

He looked like a leprechaun, she thought. The green hat, matching suit and pants, and his pointy-looking shoes only supported that idea.

Something nagged at the back of her mind. She couldn't place her finger on why, but she felt that she should know the strange man.

"You're not from here, are you?" he asked. "If you don't mind me asking," he said quickly.

She looked down at her worn, donated clothes from the orphanage, then back to the leprechaun man, then at the bright, colourful outfits of everyone else. She shifted her feet, but refused to let her embarrassment show.

"Where are we?" she asked.

The man chuckled. "Everywhere and nowhere, in a manner of speaking. I can't figure it out either. But all we need to know is that this place, it'll take you to wherever your heart desires."

"And where is that for you?"

He smiled wistfully. "Oh, somewhere nice and pleasant. It's so hard finding exactly what you're looking for these days. Right now, my wife and I are thinking of Florida."

The city, or place, or whatever it was held little meaning to the girl. It was the word "wife" that caught her attention.

As if on cue, an elderly woman stepped up to them and looped her arm through her husband's. "That's right," she said with a smile. To her husband, she asked, "Who's this?"

He shrugged, then glanced at his gold watch. "About time we head off, honey. Don't want to miss our train." They turned to leave.

"Wait!"

The little girl ran and blocked their way. "So I really can go anywhere from here, right?"

The leprechaun man furrowed his brows. "Well, yes--"

"Are you sure?" she pressed. Adults had the tendency to agree with anything a child said, especially when they wanted them to get out of their way.

"Very, young miss. We've used this station several times."

"Then how do I go home?"

The couple looked at each other. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand," said the man.

"Home is wherever you want it to be, dear," said the woman.

The girl frowned. "But...my parents! They're probably waiting for me. I want to find them too..."

"Your parents aren't with you?" asked the woman, as if she had just realized that. "Why would you run away?"

"I didn't, I'm looking for them--"

"If they weren't with you before, I can't imagine them waiting for you now," the leprechaun man said firmly. He shook his head. "Apologies miss, but we need to catch our train."

The girl could only watch as the couple bustled off. In no time they were swallowed up by the crowd.

And slowly, she began to understand.

Balling her fists in resolve, she once again located the subway map. Her finger traced over a curvy green line, and she read outloud the names of the stops. "Cadmen County, Traverse Hill, Mount Pleasant...."

Where had the couple come from? And why did they want to leave? Perhaps she was assuming things. After all, not much differentiated them. They were all looking for something. They all wanted to move forward. Even now, despite what had happened, she still had something to do.

She needed to move on, she thought. Nothing would change otherwise.

Her finger lingered on a particular stop, then traced it back to where she currently was. Station EN8, apparently.

She ran around a bit, using a mixture of observations and asking people to find what she was looking for. After finally locating the correct platform, her ears picked up the rumbling of the nearby traincar. Just in time.

As the traincar eased to a stop, the girl realized that once upon a time, the couple could have been her parents. Or her guardians. People that could've given her a home. And maybe, they both would've had what they wanted for so long.

But she knew she couldn't think like that. Because if there was one thing the orphanage had taught her, it was that there was no point in wondering what could've been. She had to focus on the now.

Focus on putting one battered shoe in front of the other. Focus on whatever lies ahead of her, and not behind.

She stepped into the traincar and sat. As a pleasant female voice announced the name of the next destination, the girl let out a breath, closed her eyes, and listened.

It was quiet, she noticed.