Every breath I take is painful: every heartbeat's a struggle, and the longer I lay drowning in my blood, the more I wish for my demise. The darkness is not helping, and neither is the cold brick wall any comfort. My heart was stabbed by a traitor: even the beautiful moon was sufferable.
Across, the busy street buzzes with life-- the exact thing I'm slowly losing. If only I could shout for help, if only I could run...
Dub-dub. Suddenly, I hear footsteps. Dub-dub. Someone's coming.
'Help,' I forcefully whimper, clutching my chest as if it can save me.
