"The writer of the year award goes to Shannon Miles," announced the presenter.
The auditorium erupted with claps and whistles.
Shannon sat in disbelief, the tips of her ears red from surprise.
For the first time, she was given an award, which wasn't on her list; she had expected another degrading time amongst her co-workers.
Despite that, her efforts had finally paid off.
This was the book everyone made degrading comments and posts about, even having some people go as far as trolling her.
She remembered the times she almost took her own life but still persevered.
She wiped her sweaty palms on her gown, stood up, and held the edge of the table for support as she wavered.
The man by her side raised an inquiring brow at her. Shannon shook her head, taking hold of his arm, as he led her towards the stage.
"Shannon arranged her gown as she got on the stage, before taking the award.
"Uh, uh," she licked her lips, the palms of her shivering from the shimmering lights in her eyes, and the crowd below the stage, oh, the crowd, she never thought there'd be this many people in attendance.
"Is this how celebrities feel?" she muttered to herself, chuckling to ease up her tension. She moved closer to the mic, "uh, thank you for the award, thank you to those who believed in me, my agency, and my little fan base that kept me standing."
Giving a little smile, the sides of her almond eyes crinkled, with the light twinkle in her eyes, 'just maybe, maybe, there's truly hope in the end,' she thought, walking away from the stage.
When she suddenly felt a thick, red liquid on her hair, she slowed down. Touching the tips of her hair, she looked at her fingers; they were red, with blood everywhere.
Stage lights were on her; her image was zoomed in on the big screens, and the bucket fell to the floor with a loud clang.
Meanwhile, backstage, two figures hovered by the tension wire grid. A sinister smile was on the lady's face, satisfied with the outcome of the event, while the man looked at her in horror.
He had tried to stop her, but to no avail; she had a mind of her own. Not wanting this to link back to him, he walked away, his face grim. He couldn't hit a woman, even if that woman was his sister.
The man had gotten to the main stairs entrance of the hall just in time to see the girl on the carpeted floor, her shoulders shivering.
She looked up, her eyes landing on him; he felt her gaze piercing through his soul.
"What did I just do?" he muttered to himself. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Again, he was too weak to protect the very thing and person he loved, allowing his sister to manipulate and trample him again.
Shannon felt a slight chill as the plaque dropped to the carpet-covered floor with her handprint of blood on it.
Tears began to pour out of her eyes.
She looked down at the blood on her hand as she took her eyes off him.
All around her, cameras flashed, crude comments were made, Shannon didn't care anymore, her head felt heavy, she struggled to breathe, with each rise and fall of her chest, the hall spun round her, the flashes from cameras and phones alike blinding her till all she could see was white.
The bullying hadn't stopped. Why was she the most hated in the industry? She shivered, her shoulders shaking, more tears pouring, giving strangled sobs, in between each tremble.
The blood mixed with her tears as it dripped from her hair to her cheeks.
All she wanted to do was hide.
In the spur of the moment, she got up and ran out of the hall, wiping tears and blood with the edge of her elbow.
Shannon felt someone grab her elbow, but she yanked her arm free from the person's grip and ran head-on into the street.
When she heard a honk from a truck, the bright light from the truck's headlight entered her eyes, colliding with her.
The sharp impact threw her body to the ground, her arms scraping the rough, cool granite tarred road.
Her body felt numb from the impact, she was sure she had internal bleeding, and the whites of her eyes began turning red.
Her hair splattered around her, as a red splotch grew on the gown, and breathing felt hard.
She began to experience sharp pains in her side.
Tears dropped by the side of her eyes, a little book had fallen out of her pocket, lying a few meters apart from where she lay, "so this is how I'll go, death is a welcoming embrace," the words barely audible.
In the process of closing her eyes, his face flashed before her eyes, 'I can't leave him, but I'm tired.'
"If you had another chance, would you take it?" came a soft voice; a woman's own.
"I guess so," Shannon responded with the last of her breath, partially in disbelief, as the last of her consciousness slipped away.
This was it, her story coming to an end, her chapter was over, a welcome end befitting a reject.
She closed her eyes as it began to rain, little drops hitting her face, and the smell of burnt tyres wafted up into the air.
"Only the earth mourns my death," she sighed, taking her last breath.