"I don't want to die yet..."
-------------
The memory of that frigid, fateful night was seared into his mind.
Nestled within his mother's arms, the little boy cried from pain. His mother was crying too, but she did not let the curtain of tears impede their progress.
With a fierce determination etched on her face, she sprinted towards the cliff's edge. The world around them was a cacophony of violence -- the wind howling past their ears, the waves beneath their feet slamming relentlessly against the jagged rocks at the side of the cliff.
Amidst the storm's fury, several jarring sounds pierced the air -- the staccato rhythm of gunshots, a chilling punctuation mark in this desperate flight.
"Laurent," his mother sobbed. "Laurent, my baby..."
