Her eyes watered from held back tears and felt as they became to seep through her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. The rain upon the windows looked the same as her tears did on her own face. Thunder rolled in the distance and lightening spilt through the sky. Her body trembled with fear and sadness. She felt her stomach churning and her heart pounding faster and faster. She had never felt herself like this before. What had happened could not be turned back or rearranged. She would have to live herself with what was given to herself. What had happened to her.

The knife was cold in her trembling hands. Her fingers were beaded with sweat. She could only see pools around her hands from the eyes forming in her eyes. Her hair hung over her head and around her shoulders shadowing the knife held tight in her hands. She lifted it so it came to eye view to her. She saw the glimmer of light reflect off the metal from the lightening splitting the sky.

Putting it out she held the point toward her. The sharp edge was cutting while it rested upon her chest. She heard shouts and cries coming from outside the apartment. Calling out her name and trying to get to her before she did it. Before she would do it.

Her hands were slippery on the small handle. She grasped the knife with all the strength she had left. She couldn't change what had happened. She could change her future and others. And she was not going to wait for some one to decide for her.

She held the knife further away to thrust the knife deeper into her chest and into her broken heart. The cries and shouts came closer and closer and closer. With one last painful breath of life and one more tear rolling down her cheek. She thrust the knife through her chest. The pain was sharp and painful, but nothing was as terrible as she had felt before. Cold chills ran through her. Pain tried to grab her, but she was already gone from her own.

People rushed in as she fell. They all stood beside the tearing dead body. Her hair fell around her shoulders and face. The knife stuck out without concealment. The handle still being clutched by her once was sweating hands. Her eyes closed with tears still seeping through her dead lids. No one tried to save her. She was already lost before the knife had struck her. She was dead for a long time before she drew her last breath; a last breath of pain and misery.

- The story behind this death does not matter. All that matters is that no one tried to save her, before she grabbed the knife. We live in a world where every one waits to help and sees the pain when it is too late. Instead of seeing the pain and misery before it is to late. And see the pain and hidden tears in their concealed masks. Then maybe there may be lesser deaths like this one.