Broken glass isn't the only danger here

The regard she carries is ashen with shock and her face, streaked with unshed tears. Moments pass, and her broken soul is still in pieces on the ground as she unsuccessfully tries with trembling fingers to place the missing fragments together but to no avail as she fights the yearning to give up for once, to be set free from this twisted hell hole. The urge to cry until the morning light is slowly overtaking her, but she is determined to not show any emotion in front of these heartless strangers and instead chooses to let her spirit slowly die, second by second, until it lies in a crippled heap in the dust.