No one ever saw it coming.

There, in the most painful, poetic way, lay the most beautiful, artistic person. Wrapped up in a sea of hair and blood.

Amina.

Funny how no one ever saw it coming. But would find time out of their busy schedules to attend her funeral on the third day following her death.

Time they never had while she was still with them.

Then again, no one ever has time for you until you die. Then, all the hours they couldn't spare can be shuffled up into one hour, commemorating your life, and singing your praises.

A life they knew nothing about, and empty praises from lying hearts that never held your memories in them.

Lying in a pool of blood, she knew that ultimately, she had the last laugh. Because in her heart, at her last moment, hearing the booming music downstairs, her parents laughing jovially and friends probably saying stuff about her behind her back, she knew something first before anyone else.

She wouldn't be joining the new year. A real joke.

As her life faded away, she could distinctly make out the countdown.

Five,

Four,

Three,

Two,

One,

Happy New Year.