Chapter 1 -- The Start of it All

A small girl was once told not to eat a thorny white rose. There were stories that even a glance was bewitching, but low and behold, that child chose to stick up her nose, and ventured to find the rose. In a far away place, she began to walk, jog, run, then pace. How far she searched, no one will ever know. She ran, and ran, and ran, as if in a timed race, while time maintained its ever slow pace. Once she reached her wonderland, she called out to it, in hopes and vain. Made demand after demand after demand, in hopes to find where the flower had chose to lain. There it stood, elegant, tall, and most importantly, breathtakingly beautiful. In nothing but awe, the past weary and hopeless girl became filled with despair. She soon noticed that despite its beauty, it was so fragile, that she was forced to be careful. Slowly lifting the stem from the soil, a huge gust of wind forced the jewel into the air. With nothing but terror, the small child began to stumble across the floor. She kept her eyes on the escaping rose, and continued to run through the mud and slops. The harder she ran, the desire to grasp the fleeting flower only grew more. Finally, with arms stretched out, she took a leap into the air and gripped the thorny rose. As she landed with a thump, red drops slowly filled the ground. However, the girl took no notice to her now bruised feet and maroon colored floor. Instead, she cupped the layered flower in her tiny hands, and slowly lifted it to her lips. She immediately breathed in the sweet and intoxicating scent that seemed to emit from the center of the rose. With wide eyes and salivating lips, she slowly licked the rim of each petal and hastily began munching away. The taste was exquisite, flavors she had never tasted before erupted within her mouth and caused the small girl to salivate even more. But soon, the girl noticed small red waterfalls drip down the corners of her mouth. In horror, she feverently wiped her face in hopes to smudge away the blood. Much to her dismay, the blood kept pouring down her mouth and slowly began filling up her entire orifice. Slowly, she began to lose oxygen and felt sharp objects begin to protrude out of her cheeks. Reaching up slowly, she rubbed her thumb along the sharp edges and winced when she felt blood trickle down her finger. Suddenly realizing that there were newly grown thorns, she let out a long and high-pitched wail. With only half of the rose left in her right hand, she angrily threw it to the ground and stomped on it. The small girl began to run back to where she came from. Past thorny bushes, into a deep ravine, and through the deep forest, the poor girl ran until she had no breath left with tears still streaming down her cheeks. Finally, she reached the garden filled with magnolias and orchids, paying no attention to the beautiful flowers; the child pushed open a heavy wooden door and stumbled into a dark corridor. Feeling around for the walls, the little one clutched the stones along the wall and let out a few more whimpers before reaching the entrance from where she came from. Once she reached the end and ran out of the tunnel, she turned back to see the tunnel suddenly disappear. With nothing but sore jaws and swollen eyes, the girl slowly limped back to her village.