I run through the lanky corridor; the essence of death is close behind
my black eyeliner is running down my cheeks, I wipe my face; it smudges
someone-no something is grasping my arm
I'm not afraid anymore, in a trans I turn towards the tall mysterious figures
dark eyes, long face, a cruel expression dispersed on its face
blood drips from my eyes as I go crashing to the cold wet floor
stabbing pains run along my back with ever spine chilling crack
blood pours while my mother cries, the face disappears and I die.