Most of us are like roses. Lovely, fragrant, eye-catching and full of colour, but deep down we have thorns within us. The ones who try to pick us up from our sorrow, are the ones who feel our thorns. To them we show our vulnerability. They are pricked by our bad side and simultaneously get to know our best side. To others we show only our good, amiable countenance. They don't come too near to us, and thus are unharmed by our thorns and oblivious of that beautiful fragrance. To people we look joyful, always happy beings. But only our loved ones know the actual sorrow and happiness we are in everyday. So is the story of this girl. A tale of a girl fending for herself. Will anyone embrace her thorns alongside her fragrance? Or just look at her from afar and stay in their trance?