Thorns grew from the petals of roses around, forming a spiral shape. The air, husky and aggressive. Lana, clothed in white linen that stopped around her knees, barefoot walked the straight path to where she could see brightness. Jerked out of her trance, she whined in pain, reaching for her feet. They were bleeding, having been pricked countless times by the thorns on the path she wasn't conscious of.She sat, trying to pick them out. Where was she? How did she change into white, transparent linen that barely covered her nakedness? Dealing with the splinter, she heard the happy giggles of a child who soon grew into cries. Lana jolted to her feet, ignoring the harshness of her twinge. Her mind was confused.All traces of the flower withered, and it began to rain. Not water, but blood. Lana was drenched in blood, her white linen stained. She broke down in tears, sobbing, palms over her face.Determined to leave her current state and find answers that could explain where she was and why s
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