She stood there for what seemed like an eternity in the darkness, arms hung limply at her sides. The crowd was long gone, she only came when she knew it would be just her. Standing quietly, her lack of expression in the dark was the only witness to her true nature. There was no need for smiles here. 

She quietly steps out out of the mausoleum , seeing the limosine slowly pull up. The car slowly drove under steel skies. She watched as parallel lines undulate and unwind behind the rain-streaked windowpane.  

"Stop." She tells the driver, "Wait here."

She gets out in a rush, ignoring the pouring rain. She pushes the iron gates with a force, Walking past the once carefully manicured gardens that were now brown and dry. The center fountain was covered in brown vines filled with pale yellow water. A padlock and chain covered the enormous wooden double doors. Without flinching, she shoots it open.

The stale dead air greeted her. She moved around the house for one last time, the scene mocked her unsympathetically. Nothing moved but the dust. Broken bottles lay everwhere. She felt sick to her stomach. She walked up the huge staircase, to the bedroom. More broken bottles. Ripped lingerie. All she needed to see. 

Gun in hand she walks down the stairs and out the doors. The driver solemnly opens the door for her. 

"Home," she commands to the driver.