The morning light penetrates through the window of Misha's room letting her know to wake up.
Getting up without delay, Misha Pulls out a loose brick from underneath the window, and retrieves a stone just big enough to fit in her hand. The stone had been carved over several months into the shape of a knife and now the only work left to do is to finish sharpening it.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground Misha begins her work by scrapping the stone against the concrete.
An hour passes by and the stone finally looks finished. Misha stops and brings it up towards her arm.
Slowly she presses the sharpened side of the stone into her skin and slides it across with just the right amount of force.
Blood trickles down Misha's forearm putting a smile on her face that would send shivers down even Charles Manson's back.
She had spent months wallowing in self pity thinking of what she should have done differently to stop this tragedy from ever occurring.
Six months of wasteful regret had past before she remembered the parting words from her Grandmother.
"My beautiful daughter, I only wish we lived in times where you could easily conceal a weapon on transport. There are many snakes and perverts in this world, but don't forget women are the most dangerous when they use their Brain. Be smart Misty and don't worry I'll take good care of Misha for you."
Her Grandmother was probably the fiercest women Misha new to date, but also probably the most senile. However, it only took remembering those few words to lift Misha back up; despite the odds of her predicament.