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After one of my greatest achievements, I had one of my greatest downfalls. I was a queen in ancient Mesopotamia. Consider my death. I was cast down from a tower by men, and tumbled to my death. The men threw me down, though they were not men, but eunuchs, emasculated boys at that. Even though I was a queen, I was betrayed by my own subjects, those that feared a new rival prince. He was one of many that sought my throne.

My body fell against a wall on the way down, blood splattered on its jagged sides. Once my body hit the dirt, my body was then trampled on by horse hoofs, while I was briefly semiconscious. The beating of my body continued until the only distinguishable parts of my body that remained recognizable were my hands, feet and my skull


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