prologue
Wounded, like a deer that got hit by a car. She laid there, her eyes empty as the wind, her skin cold to the touch, and tears coming down in a line neatly. The hardwood floor was cold and damp from her rain covered clothes. Her hair was the color of midnight and eyes the color of dusk. She closed her eyes as she turned pale and a puddle formed around her. With a cut in her side, her veins emptied. She let out silent screams, yet her mouth did not open. That’s when the flames within her body consumed her, and the room was left silent.
This is the story of the girl with a heart made of thorns.
