It never gets any easier, the feeling of a knife cutting her life off at the core. The way she tries to breath in, chokes, fails, panics. She has to come back, she repeats in her head over the panic of death. She'll come back because she did something dramatic and they'll want to hear all about it. She has to.

Her hands lose their grip on the wall and she slumps, falling, dying, painted green. There's not much time to think between the fall and her death, seconds perhaps, but it feels like a lifetime before her life fades and everything goes dark.