She had an angelic glow around her hovering body, although her rather large sin would be sending her directly to hell. Her delicate neck slumped limp to one side, causing her corpse to waver slightly in the gentle breeze. A chill would coarse through anyone's body; not because of the coldness of her empty touch, but because of all the warming life she still held in her. Leaves and small twigs had become entangled in her dark locks. Meanwhile, a young spider had made its home in the gap of her stiff, curved, hand.
The branch above her would crack ever-so-slightly whenever it had to fight against a tremendous gust of wind. Old stains of blood and trauma laced the aged bark with tainted memories. Its rotting core held pests that would feast on the fallen for weeks. Many of the tree's branches had snapped and fallen due to others like her. But, unlike the others, her light body hung like a Christmas ornament; her bleach-white skin twinkled in the sun's rays like tinsel.