Ah. Alisa. She was a bright student. What a pity she had to go down that road. The demonstration organized by her was smart but foolish. It proved that the heart of the city was still beating despite the suffocating lies lavished upon it. The demonstration was shot at, the tanks leaving bodies of students in their wake, a slimy trail of blood and flesh. The neighbourhood church had held a funeral service for the deceased the very next day, students with tear-stained cheeks and parents with puffy red eyes professing their grief and regrets. One would think that their emotional suffering was truly masochistic. Everyone dies sooner or later. Just because so many people happened to die all at once, before they’ve reached old age, doesn’t make it any more “deathful” that it would be. And just because you knew the persons who’ve died doesn’t make them any more significant than a dead one in another part of the world.