A young girl, only fifteen or sixteen years old, with a look of despair on her face, lay on the train tracks. The cold iron tracks, yet not as cold as her heart, she seemed to have completely lost the desire to live.
The railway began to shake, and from afar, one could hear the rumbling sound of a train. A train was racing towards her, and in less than three minutes, it would run over her, taking this life that hadn't had the chance to blossom.
The girl closed her eyes, feeling her body trembling and waiting for the arrival of death. This train was death itself, and the time left for her was not much. She showed no sign of regret, as if she had already made the final decision.
Yet, even with such resoluteness, as she recalled something, a tear finally escaped from the corner of her eye, trembled off with the shaking tracks, and was carried away by the fierce mountain wind.
