Something went wrong. An explosion of light. Men screaming, the popping of bullets. Someone dropped against the ground.
The silhouette of a girl lay against a cement wall, raining pounding. There was pain in every limb. Everything hurt. Her throat burned the fiercest. Flashes of light pushed across a blurry vision. Feeling. She could feel cold, wet cobblestone underneath. The dark walls stretched upwards into the sky. Everything hurt. Someone was kneeling over her, touching her, trying to save her.
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, like a slow, gaunt drum. Her eyes followed blood on the ground. Was that her blood, she wondered? Everything felt so small, cold and weak. She was covered in so much red. Her hand was laying in the blood. It was small and pale. Why was it so small and pale? Her fingers were so thin.
She rose her hand and stared at it. Someone took her hand and held it firmly. They were speaking. Their hand was warm, and the warmth spread through the girl's body, but it only made the reality clearer in the contrast.
She was dying in a dark alleyway, rain pounding on her face from an unfeeling sky. SOmeone's face was above her, trying to talk to her. She could hear nothing. There was another body beside her. A knife was in its chest. Bullet holes, too. The eyes empty of life. Staring at her.
The woman was bleeding too. No, not the woman, the girl thought. The princess. How did she know that? She was bleeding badly, and holding her hand. She was speaking, but the girl could not hear. She is so young and pretty, the girl thought. She found herself hoping that the girl did not die. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. They were talking, but she could not hear them.
The rain washed over her face and turned the world to black.
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