𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲.

𝐓𝐄𝐍.

"STAND TALL IN THE STORM." Her feet planted on the ground firmly, he eyes focused on her father's movements. He paced before her, his hands pressed to his lips while he fought falling to his knees. Her head fell down, tears falling and landing on the mud beneath her feet. Her head was tilted back, his fingers resting underneath her chin. He was in excruciating pain, his voice strong but his body, weak.

"Open your eyes." His voice wavered, a ball caught in his throat, tightening uncomfortably. She couldn't, her eyes squeezed tighter, lips quivering when she attempted to tell him that she could not. She couldn't see the disappointment on his face. She felt immense disappointment for herself as well. They weren't meant to be so horribly weak. They were supposed to have been prepared and strong.

He repeated himself, his voice raising in the slightest. That was all of the might he could muster. He needed her to listen because all the fight he had was fleeting.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, tears racing down her flushed cheeks, unnatural.

"We will be okay." He choked out, not only trying to convince his daughter but himself. He will not be okay, he lost the love of his life. He'd never be okay without her.

"You will be okay." He pulled her into an embrace, squeezing tightly, allowing her to fall apart while he cursed the world in silence, a crack forming in his heart, beyond repair.

She took a deep breath, taking in the moment before her father retreated back into his old self. She will be okay.

Her heart ached at the memory, pain flooded her body like a tsunami, breaking the walls down in her vulnerable state, allowing for everything to come crashing down on her. Her body shivered, memories juxtaposed together, flashing before her eyes. Her eyes opened, hoping to avoid seeing what she had hidden, but still they attacked her mercilessly.

The brightness of the sun burned her eyes. The sun rays assaulted her gleaming eyes while she laid on the ground, her hand pressed against her abdomen. Figures hovered over her, talking and shouting but she didn't care. She was filthy, dragged in the mud out of harms way by Ada, the thick feeling of the mud on her bare legs didn't bother her, there were more pressing matters to be concerned about.

She looked down, the blurry outline of her hand was red, glistening in the sunlight in a twisted, beautiful way. Blood. Her lips parted in a realization, she had been shot, caught in the crossfire. A sigh was released from her lips, tears forming in her eyes while she tried to keep herself from screaming. The pain increased with every moment she was aware of her injury, everything becoming a confusing whirlpool. As much as she was in pain, nothing hurt more than the release of all hidden emotions into her chaotic mind.

"Angelina."

Christopher? She gasped for air, her head spinning. She had been in this situation before, only this time she wanted to live. Her hands reached, hoping that he would be there to save her once again. But he wasn't there. He left her alone a long time ago, he was no longer with her. No one was going to take her hand and she would die alone.

"Angelina."

Father? She missed him dearly. He wouldn't approve of her tears but he would have to deal with it. Well, he wouldn't have to do anything, he was dead. The same fate that she was facing. She was in pain and she'd been strong for him all of her life, she needed just this moment. She squeezed her eyes shut before opening them, a figure hovered above her now. Hands held her face, pulling her head towards their chest. Their head lowered by her ear, calling her name once more, finally clarifying who had been calling her name.