SURPRISE! It's a stick!

Ignore the title that means nothing what so ever.
All right, so I was bored today in English and started writing (cha, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be telling you!) and these strange scene developed in my head of a woman—because I love bad@ss women—being held hostage for information and after giving them what they want (yeah, she lied, because she’s like me and loves getting satisfaction that those sonofabitches are going down, too) she gets shot in the stomach.
That already is a god-awful painful way to die; your stomach acid eating away at your body… but before she succumbs, she gets the shit beaten out of her (I always make my characters bleed…) and then tossed back out onto the sand, because she’s in the Sahara, which is mostly rock, but I put her in Egypt, because that place kicks @ss. Don’t ask me why she’s there, I haven’t figured it out yet.
Now, how exactly do you write a person dying? She’s in agony, knows that she won, accepts that, and is tired of cheating death. This woman wants to finally get peace, so I’m giving it to her. But how in gods name do you write it?! All those people who have written a dying scene, send me some stories and where it is and you get a nice critic in return.
Note: I’m writing it in third person, so those stories are great, but I’ll go with first person as well. Anything but second.

Onto the second part of this journal; Brittany and I were sitting, with Kristen of course, at our normal table in the library, when we all suddenly came up with this fantastic idea that we would rule the world. But then came the problem; the rebellious people. What should we do? At first it was “lets hand them over to Kristen and see how long it takes before they crack or die” (That is a joke, by the way—seeing that people have been taking my crap way too seriously—we do not have a mass murder in our group. Thank you.) when someone, I don’t remember who, got this fantastic idea; why don’t we put them in a room with Brittany and have her just stare at them for a long time until they crack? Don’t do anything, just stare.
It is extremely unnerving. I will tell you that.
However, one problem; she can’t keep a straight face. So, here comes the best part. “Why don’t you smile and stare at them?” Someone watching you with a grin is even more unnerving than not. Brittany nodded her agreement before she turned to me with that infamous smirk.
Then, she poked me. Repeatedly.
Kristen started laughing, saying that the stare, smile, and poke would be some new invention of the Chinese Water Torture (Go look it up if you have no idea what I’m talking about).
But, anyways, I'm turning this into a story. About us ruling the world. Cha! FUN!

Now, I want all you people reading this to answer two questions;

1.Would this drive you insane?
2.How long would it take for you to crack under the pressure?

And here’s a crack poem for you:
I’m off to write a story
A story on monkeys in bras
I hear it is a terrible thing
If ever a thing there was!
If ever oh ever a thing there was
The monkeys in bras are one because
Because, because, because, because, because!
Because of the horrible things they’ve done!
I’m off to write a story
A story on monkeys in bras!