When she saw his eyes lock onto her instead of anybody else's in that
cafe
she knew that she would die.
Each sliver of a moment following felt longer than physically possible.
She had previously feared dying. Certainly she neither expected nor wanted to die this young. But now that the moment had arrived it didn't seem all that bad.
The image of him approaching with the
knife
in his hand stained into her... whatever time remained of "her". And when the first few inches of the blade slid in through her ribcage she expected it to hurt so much. She expected to be yelling in a shriek. And yet it didn't come. The blade slid in another inch and she felt what it felt to be unable to breathe.