A small girl sat, weeping, in a dust-choked alleyway, alone and sorrowful. Her tears merged with her dusty cheeks to form a wet mud running down her face, and her ragged clothes were caked in mud. All she could cry was, "Mama, mama," and all she could think of was that dreadful moment when her life threw itself upon her in a turn of nausea. The demons invisible to her floated through her mind, as she helplessly watched her dear mother, her protector, her companion, struggle with them, in bouts of sickness and despair. She counted stones, leaves, anything in eyesight, to keep them at bay, but nothing could help her. She eventually fell still, as lifeless as a rag doll. The girl ran to her mother, screaming, but her mother did not hear. At last, she let out a soft "Angelica?"
