I am trapped in this cursed world.

Yes, I have delivered the biscuits to my grandmother-

walked on that path-

Thousands-

Thusands of times.

My destiny is ever unchanged- until now.

The flowers- which I once collected- sprout thorns and push me away.

_Don__’__t fall for the illusions the wolf has set for you!_ they say.

Yet-

however much blood I must shed-

when I reach the flowers on this wretched path-

My fingers are no longer my own.

I grit my teeth in pain as the blood I shed from the the flower’s thorns drip onto the path that I must again take-

over

and

over

again.

Today,

the hunter did not arrive.

I will travel on this path,

forever more,

bringing

to an old, abandoned shack in the forest,

pastries

stained red.