She lifted her hands which were dripping with blood. She had been shot by the soldiers who were now looking at her. In some ways she had always expected to someday be shot, but now that it had happened she was overcome with outrage, along with fear and pain. "Five people die of flu", she thought, "and everyone is crazy with fear. On the same day I, along with 300 or more others, are shot, and no one even notices." She was panting, unable to catch her breath. She was cold. She sat down on the ground to rest. She was tired, very tired. The soldiers were watching her, but did nothing to help her. She had come to this place to protest the war. She had come with good intentions and a knowledge that it would be dangerous. She had been in dangerous places before. She had never been shot before. It was getting dark and though she had called out several times that she needed a doctor, no doctor came. She shivered. She laid down on the ground. She thought of her husband and son who were not with her. She thought of the war and how terrible it was. She shivered. She looked over at her hands which were covered with blood.

Stumble It!