Knomon

You were already washed up. they carried the jugs of lemon and
bitter water past you, past you again then you remembered her hair in
the breeze, and the way she had told you that today it was going to be
hot, and that they painted the walls white because it reflected the
sun, your eyes hurt because of the sun, so you went into the shade, and
they cut your throat, like she had told you they would, you should have
believed her.