Her vision blurred rapidly, and the weight on her lower lid increased as a pool of salt emerged from behind her eyes. A clear, crystal-like tear spilled over the edge of her lower lid, made a crooked way down her crumpled face, and cut through the still air, staining her maroon pants a darker shade of red.

It seemed impossible that the sun could still shine ever so radiantly, that the trees could still sway to the breeze so casually, that the birds could still sing as if to celebrate the birth of today. All this seemed impossible, especially when a broken and lifeless form lay curled in an insignificant corner with thoughts darker then charcoal.