Ireland, 1982

It took her two years to get this far, she won’t give up now. No matter what’s going to happen. She’ll do it, she’ll make it. No one’s going to stop her. Not now, not at this point.
‘Too bad, I didn’t plan to die tonight. Hope you don’t mind?!’ she screams at the angel right in front of her.
I’m not scared, I won’t run. I will win.
The angel walks up to her and pushes her out of his way. Damy turns around and looks at it. It’s gone? Just a few seconds ago he was there, well, it was there. And now gone. Like it has never been there. ‘That’s impossible. It has got to be somewhere! It can’t disappear, can it?’ Damy sits on the ground, looking across the black water. ‘No Damy, that’s impossible.’ She keeps telling herself.
Maybe it was a dream? Maybe this is all an illusion? But how longer she’s trying to believe it’s an illusion, the more it becomes realistic. Damy stands up and walks away. ‘Not possible. Not possible.’ She’s whispering to herself.

Damy finds herself laying on the couch. How did she get there? Then maybe, it was all a dream. Damy stands up and walks into the kitchen. Blood. A lot of blood. ‘Oh my God!’ she screams. Right in front of her stands the angel who was trying to kill her last night. Where did all the blood came from? Don’t pay attention to that now. There’s an angel right in front of you, who wants to kill you. Damy walks to the knives, but before she was there, the angel grabs her. Damy quickly grabs a knife. ‘No bitch, I’m not dying today!’ Damy pushes the knife into the angel. No blood. It isn’t dying. Damy is in panic. God damn! Why isn’t it dead? Why is it still alive?!
‘Focus, Damy, DAMN focus!’ Damy tries to break free, not possible. She’s dying, she’s dead. She knows it.