Moments ago, she was filled with cheerfulness and excitement. She had made it into the new year. A soft cheerful smile radiated through her face. She looked around smiling and waving at strangers.
It was the first day of the new year. She was heading home from the crossover Thanksgiving. Her steps were slow and lazy.
She paused, she threatened. The volume of her voice kept low, the intensity high- pitched. Now, she saw it. She saw them, the looked scary, no one seemed to notice.
Yes, she saw it. It was black. There was a toylike quality to it. No! It was a real one. It was a revolver. 
He pointed at her, she trembled.
'Dont be ridiculous', she said, her voice cracking; its tone, shaky.
Fear gripped her body.
'No, please don't do this, not today, please I...'
The gun trusted forward and pressed hard into the softness of her lower abdomen. She took a step back.
She felt warm tears running through her eyes. 'Oh no', she screamed.
His fingers squeezed the trigger. She felt the bullet penetrate her, taking with it muscles and nerves, bone and skin. She was driven backward, her lungs grasp for air, her eyes opened wide, her jaw dropped as she stared at him, at them, she stared.
Her eyes fixed on the last sight they would ever see as she fell slowly to the ground. She shot her eyes and she took her last breath. 
The first day of the year was her last day.
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