

Amygdale
The tiles were cold, with drops of blood, some smeared across her skin. She looked at it fascinated, loving how it painted her skin. It was something she craved and yearned for and when she had done it again it was a relief, that it would do for sometime until she gets this adrenaline again. Some thought they knew her story, they knew what went wrong and how things turned left. she was just another victim...right?
