• A girl grips the cool railing on the bridge, her clammy hands slip slightly. A faint figure she is in the mist. Grabbing a white handkerchief out of her pocket, she coughs loudly into it. The once pure white cloth was now stained. The bright red of her blood made the world around her look that much greyer. A vibrant spot in the middle of the imperfection. A stream of salty tears escape the corner’s of her eyes as she feels a grip around her heart that she has no control over. She knew it all along. Death had her in it’s sights. The mist seemed to thicken before her very eyes, as if death was throwing it’s cloak around her body, there was no escape. There was only the prospect of an eternity in hell. She dropped to her knees and began to plead. “Please, spare me, “ her whimpers were barely audible. A loud hiss escaped from the sewers below. She flinched at the hostile sound. Coughing loudly into her handkerchief again, blood began to trickle down the right side of her mouth. The girl weakly lifted her head high to look into the dim streetlight, her dark brown eyes swimming with tears. She fell with her tears to the pavement. Her little hands gripped the pavement in an attempt to get up. But she could not. Her shoulders slumped, her eyelids drooped. Death bore down on her body. Pressing down on her lungs and heart, she slowly drifted into a death, of which she could never escape.