What Isabella could see was the whole world. She could see trees of green, and yes, red roses too. But she could also see fear, sadness, deprivation, poverty, pain.

The beauty of the world was evaporating in her eyes. She saw the sun and the moon, she saw stars and oceans, she saw skyscrapers and city blocks, and then she saw nothing. She dies as the world dies.

She saw the present. A whirlwind of bottles and cigarette butts whizz around her, while a stench of uncare pollutes the planet. Indifference is the taste on her lips and it was going sour.

She saw how the past was intermingling with the future. Shards of glass beautify the scene around her. Rifles strewn majestically along the battlefield, amber streaks decorating the sky, a tribute to the previous defenders of the place. The whole world had regressed. It was back to the beginning, and about to start again.

She is nature, and she is despair.