Her face was ashen.
The cold went through her thin clothing.
Her hands struggled to hold onto the money to purchase bread.
Her legs dragged her weak and battered body along the street.
The rain started to pour and the ones from her eyes followed suit.
There was a loud one accompanied by thunder and lightning.
And there was a silent one, bearing the grief in the heart.
Only the heart could feel the pain.
Only the eyes could stand the gaze.
It was a loud silence.

She continued to move, despite all odds.
The rain continued pouring; the one from the sky and the one from her hazel eyes.
Everywhere was blurry.
Soon, she could hear the sound of feets shuffling behind her, despite the noise her company, the rain made.
Not one. Not two. Not three. There were a few. And they were coming near her.
But she was...