A figure floated at the end of the path. Its head seemed disconnected from its body. I nearly missed it in the red flowers surrounding the red dusty path.

I took in a slow breath and stepped forward. The dried petals crunched under my feet. I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what would have happened if I had not followed this path twelve years ago.

I put my right foot in frunt of my left and let my breath flow out of my lungs. Then the whispers started. They always did. They hadn’t stopped since I first walked down this path. Or ran.

I felt the tears prick at my eyes. A sharp pain stung through my arms. A shock surged through my veins when I touched the petals beside the path. I shighed and wiped my tears with the back of my wrist.

I bent over and opened my eye. I began shuffling my fingers through the fallen red leafs in search of my necklace. I had lost it years ago. My gold chain and ruby. It was what brought me here and what could get me out of it.

I became hung up in my thoughts. I missed home. The city was everything I ever knew and I lost it in one day. One day twelve years ago. Images of the busy streets filled my mind. Voices from the business and a passing cars ringed through my mind along with the whispers. The spirits whispers.

I balled my fists and shut my eyes in attempt to stop the tears. They didn’t even slow, but instead they poured faster. One after another slipped down my cheeks leaving my skin raw until there was no hope left in my heart. I was chocked in tears and exhausted. I wished more then ever for a break from the sounds. I toppped onto my side and began to scream.

I rolled around in the dirt. Splinters shot their way into my heart. I opened my eyes and saw the spirit in their red robes looming over me. I let out one last scream until I was in silence. I continued to shiver in my own pool of blood until the last voice in my head was the blood singing. That was the voice of the wispers.

The twelve years I spent in this filthy red prison it was my blood whispering to me. The lovely voice of my blood that sang. For the rest of time I withered and rotted away, listening to my blood and eventually growing into one of the many flowers beside the red path.

For years I watched other unfortunate people lose themselves in this haunting world and forever I would do nothing but watch. For once one is trapped in the grasp of the spirit of the red rose path, there is no escaping. Ever.