A drip. A sound. A patter. She sees her. She turns away. She thinks of it all. She thinks of the tear. A drip. A single tear that dripped down her face. No. Come back. She can’t. She remembers her scream. A sound. It’s distant now but once, once it was so loud. She sees the crowd. Sees them all. How they came. A patter. They came with no regrets. They came with no remorse. They came and they saw her. They came and they took her. And now she is gone. It’s time to turn away for good.