The world is dying. I could hear it, see it. I could .. I could feel it. I was different, looked down upon. Everything I did was wrong. No matter what it was. People used to think being different was a good thing, but now a sin? There is no possible sane way you can place being different and adultery in the same category. Then again, there is no such thing as impossible anymore and to add onto that, the world was falling apart, so either way insane wouldn't exactly be a problem.

The world, our world was falling with us. Actually, we made it fall. When the world finally falls the only thing that will be heard is the screams of a flower dying.

The world has a soul that keeps the whole world in balance. If there is just one death, it must be replaced to keep the balance. It's a delicate seesaw of life and death, once one on the life side moves to the side of death a new one must appear on the life side. If the balance is broken only hell would live and take the world under to accompany its already red blooded world.

Everyone is linked to the world's soul, which was screaming out at this moment in pain. Sometimes the world would let you go because you were too weak but would let you swim again in its rivers of life. Maybe even in shallow parts, not in the deep blue areas where not even the light of the sun could reach.

The flower girl looked up at her flowers and walked away.