Upon the road I am walking, the pathway is tough. Thorns, needles, branches are everywhere surrounding me. Each step I take, the thorns brush against me tearing my skin off. The road is pointy with sharp rocks and nails. With every step I take, the nails dig into my feet. The wind is blowing in my face, like ice, my flesh being scraped apart. The road behind me drips with blood. The thorns, needles and leaves are all covered blood. As I continue walking, my clothes slowly shed onto the thorns leaving memories behind.