She falls on the cold ground, head hitting the pavement with a hard crack.
Whimpering she curls into a ball, as though her frail body will protect her from her captor.
The light washes over her, faint noises of popularity just ten feet away, and yet still she is alone. Afraid.
He laughs at her moaning, enjoying her pain. Cracked lips brush against her pale throat, warm breath runs down her front.
Everything about him is warm, destroyed. His skin radiates a longing heat while his sweating hands quickly rip off her only protection. His face flushes when he looks down at his prey, bloodied and shaking beneath him.
But his eyes are what stop her, frighten her. Slate grey, they are like ice, cold and calculating. Dangerous and hurried.
Ice burns as hot as fire, and his eyes burn through her skull.
Pinned, she screams, but still no one comes.
No one cares as the little girl is being beaten, raped.
They just walk past in a blissful negligence, too concerned with their own perfect lives to notice the crying girl,
the dying child.