The Last Second

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The dying scream of a child pierced the air of the deserted city. Terror, pain, humiliation all came rushing to her at once. The knife didn't stop at her tortured voice, instead it went deeper, driven by the tainted hands of a murderer. Crimson red blood splattered the streets, a shade darker than the red roses in her bedroom, a tint brighter than the girl's dark, wine colored eyes, staring unbelievably at the concrete floor, the light seeping out of them by the second.

"W-wait..."

she spluttered, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Finally, as cold numbness started to spread over her, beginning from the knife wound on her stomach-literally, as the knife's still stuck there- she realized her near immediate future. Death. The hand clutching the knife loosened it's grip, and the owner of the hand stepped back, allowing the body of the small girl to topple over, and left.

Alone now, the mad foot steps of the killer residing into the darkness, echoing against the walls of the dark alley. Moving is now luxury, indicating the end is near. A flood of sudden pain and numbness washed over her, and it ended. The delicate thing called life.

Author's note-

I'm here again with this idea that popped into my mind. It's exactly 200 words (not including the author's note of course) and it's my entry for the The 200 contest in the book by @Contests.

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