Scarlet
When she woke up, she was in a sterile-looking room with the dull silver curtains closed. A drip of blood was attached to her arm. The place where the needle pierced her hard skin, felt hot as if it was burning but the steady flow of blood into her system was invigorating.
Her body felt as good as new and after a long time, she wasn’t thirsty. She tried to recollect what had happened but the last thing she remembered was intolerable grief.
The memory of the feeling itself brought back the pain and cold tears ran through her eyes onto her cheeks. Why the hell can’t I remember anything? What is this sorrow all about? What have I lost?
Try as she may, she couldn’t get anything from her brain. She remembered in bits and pieces that she was following the command of a witch. But who
