My feet persisted to move forward fast. Faster than they had ever before. Thin little spike-like grasses pricked at my skin.

They hadn’t when I entered the ball, but now that it was ripped, the grass had space to grow up:

I cocked my head upwards and saw the cylinder of bluish glow following me even quicker than it had last time I looked.

I then tripped on a root, filling into the trees. My dress ripped it every corner. Elegant, expensive fabric stretching just enough to pop.

Rough sticks dotted the forest floor. I pushed my hand up and felt something sharp dig into the palm of my hand. I pulled it up of the ground and felt cool blood drip down my arm.

A pool of blood had come from my hand. The worst part was that it didn’t belong to me. It was, purple? Strange.

I looked down at my gown that didn’t seem to be white anymore. Dirt and red blood backed the cloth. I felt myself try and scream but nothing came out. I wanted to collapse over on the ground. I thoug hit that was what would happen. It’s always what happened to the girls in the movies. Instead, I actually, I felt my body slowly lift up.

A strange blue glow surrounded me and I gave my self up. I had failed. But sometimes, failing is our destiny. And sometimes, that’s what we’re written to do. Sometimes.