Dark thoughts circling her mind. Twisting everything that might turn out happy into a black version of reality. Red rose petals shrivel and fall. They form a river of crimson. She turns towards the blackness, and reaches for the dying flowers, only to find her fingers pricked and stinging. Blood flows down and falls into the river, matching colors. She pulls her hand into a fist that instinctively rests at her heart. There’s no way out of this dark. -Kelly J.