She sat at the edge of her sanctuary, her legs dangling into thin air as she listened to the sound-system in the windmill belting out El Mañana. It was enough, right now, just to sit, eyes closed, on the edge of a floating island, listening to the band's latest CD. She didn't want to have to land the thing, but it was something that would happen eventually.

Summer don't know me no more,
Eager man, that's all…

She opened her eyes, a trace of a smile lingering on her lips as she stood, turning and walking back towards the windmill. This song was too sad for this, she had to switch tracks. That was when she noticed the sound, which she realized had been growing for some time. Helicopter propellers.

Summer don't know me,
He just left me loathe in myself,
Cause I do know lord,
From you that,
Just die, yeah…

The choppers climbed up above the island, spinning around the confused teen. She only realized what was going on a second before it would have been too late, and managed to get a running start as the helicopters opened fire.

The bullets tore at the ground, the deafening sound of the guns firing overwhelmed by the fft sound of the bullets passing by. It was a miracle that she managed to reach the windmill in time, though it didn't offer anything in the form of stopping the bullets, as they tore through in a line inches from her head. Then the gunshots stopped, and she could hear a crack. Then, just the faint sound of the helicopters, growing fainter. Had they given up already?

I saw that day,
Lost my mind,
Lord I'm fine,
Maybe in time,
You'll want to be mine…

Somehow, the sound system had survived the bombardment, and though the volume was diminished due to bullet damage, the boom box the speakers were hooked up to was still playing.

Teenage curiosity took over, and the sixteen-year-old stood up, walking outside to find her island aflame. One of the windmill rotors was snapped in half, explaining the cracking sound she'd heard earlier. And then the sound of propellers grew again. They were moving faster this time, and she practically had to dive to reach the windmill before the second hail of bullets commenced.

Don't stop the buck when it comes,
It's the dawn, you'll see…

She lay in the middle of the windmill, battered and panting, hearing the entire island creak and groan. The structural damage to the windmill was too great for the island to stay in the sky. She could feel the entire thing begin to sink, and the sounds of the propellers were no longer audible. Murdoc, Russel, sorry I can't be around for the next album… 2D, thanks… It was startling to be thinking these things. She'd been enjoying the air a few minutes ago.

Money won't get there,
Ten years past it now,
You'll flee…

The fires on the island had grown out of control, and the island was producing a thick cloud of black smoke as it plunged. The downward motion made standing up even harder, but she managed, though she had taken a beating in the second attack. The stereo was still playing, too.

Then, slowly, everything went vertical. She was able to keep standing by grabbing onto the windmill doorframe, but this gave her a perfect view of the ground rushing up below her. She could hear the helicopters again, too, above her. They didn't need to do anything more, she was already dead.

If you do that,
I'll be sold,
To find you…

The burning island had almost reached its point of impact, which seemed to be the bottom of a canyon. She held one hand out in front of her in a feeble attempt to guard against the ground, as the island descended past the canyon walls, death only a few seconds away. She cringed, closing her eyes and letting go of the doorframe moments before impact. This proved to be a saving grace, as the tip of the island struck the ground with enough force to launch the teen into a crevice nearby, though she didn't escape harm entirely, striking her head against the wall and crumpling onto the ground. The world was blurry, and she fought to keep her eyes open, the sounds of helicopter propellers ringing in her ears.

I saw that day,
Lost my mind,
Lord, I cry…

The music was still playing, somehow. The fight for consciousness was now a lost cause, but she managed to get a glimpse of one of the helicopters dropping a small black object. Then her eyelids wouldn't obey her wishes anymore, and she went limp, her battle lost moments before the bomb struck the canyon floor.

Maybe in time,
You'll want to be mine…