the world was nothing but water and want...
There was pain, immense pain. But it just didn't matter anymore. She didn't matter anymore.
So this was death. She wasn't sure what she expected. For all of her atheism, she couldn't help but be curious about an Afterlife. The blinding firey pain turned to numbness. In the last second, she felt the coolness of the rainwater. That was her horrible scream, her curses. Then a lovely, light feeling, like she was flying, up above the pain, and the rainbows, and the stars.
She could see, for a moment, the little girl, Dorothy, knealing on the ground, cradeling a semi-solid form, that was becoming green goo, a puddle. Her own body reduced to mess. She would have retched, if she still possesed a stomach.
The murderess holding, mourning her victim. There was poetry in that, but in a second it was gone.
But then he was there. And hell may it be, she was in heaven.