She fell down.
From the moment she was born to the moment she is living now, she'd been happy. She cried and had heartache, yes. But she lived, because she knew. Oh, she knew. What was it?
What was it that made her survive her heartache until now? She survived, because she knew she'd be alright eventually. Something had always been there to tell her she'd survive it.
She wouldn't accept.
But now, as everything was taken from her. She'd lost strength. But she wouldn't believe it. She wouldn't accept that this was what reality was, not with all the good in this world was this real.
So she raised her head, once more.
She lifted her head, but she didn't stand up. She stood on her knees, that was as far as she could go. She stood there, beaten and scarred and smiled. She smiled.
Now, she reached out
She would face this once more. She would bear this once more, just for a little while longer. Because she knew that this couldn't be it. There were so many more beautiful moments waiting for her.
But she knew that she'd need more strength, so she reached out and pleaded for someone to lend her theirs. She reached out and waited, and waited, and just a bit more she waited.
She's broken now, but she's healing.
She lifted her head when she felt someone grab her hand, she couldn't understand how they would bother with a soul as broken and lost as her, but she silently thanked them.