Hold on. There might not be a second chance; this might be the only one. So she held on, her eyes pleading with the Almighty Soul that ruled over all—if there wasn’t a God there had to be something. Tears made their way blindly down her face, an undeniable, overpowering pain shadowing her soul. Her eyes felt thick with fury and tears, the water that ran and spilled over her eyelids. She held on as if she was holding onto life, so dear and fragile. Her screams were unheard by passerby’s ears; the chaos hid it amidst its powerful self. Right now, she was grateful for that. She held on. A shout jarred her mind’s thoughts; they all jammed at the tip of her brain.

“No!”

Another death erupted, as cold as black as a dimwitted night in December. Although this time there were no stars to guide the way; no light to shed onto the world. It was just cold and dark and shallow, a crevasse in the world’s surface. She felt herself falling. But she was holding on.