Tourniquet

She was in a kind of waking coma, not stopping until she solved it. The task at hand. Her's to solve. Each day she hoped would be the answer bearer. Born into this. There has to be a way out. She had seen it when she was a little girl, and forgotten that is was there. She saw it again, years later. It only grew larger. Seemingly, a simple answer for such a big problem. In her mind's eye she saw a pit, bottomless. Loud arguing, she heard from it, that had only gotten louder, deafening, violent. The answer. Reason.