Beauty Kills.

A watercolor was being painted on the once clear, untainted canvas. Splotches of bright red covered her cheekbones, already fading to a light purple. Green eyes were rimmed in the matching color, burning against the beauty that was no longer seen in the painter. And, bleeding mascara raced down the portrait she was becoming, the tormented splatter painted design.

The artist smiled, taking a step back to admire his work. Now noticing the ashen marks covering her sides as he took a drag of his paintbrush. The stinging gashes that covered her legs as he took a swig of his broken bottle of paint. She twitched, art coming to life and he brought both of his tools in a clash against her face. She cried out, a masterpiece coming to life; just another one he would hang out to dry.

Eliza sobbed, standing as rationality rang like bells in her eardrums, her brain throbbing as he hit her again and again. Her shocked limbs worked as his easel, keeping her up as she stood on the glass plates she had broken out of fright. The unfamiliar taste of her own blood pooled at the back of her throat, homesickness stinging through all of her veins. It pounded so evenly through her heart as broken glass scraped at her nerves. As she cried, screamed and ached to feel at home; he slurred, pushed her and hurt her more.

Velvet rose petals sprang up from the top of the green stem. A single rose blooming on the bush. She reached out for it, bright eyes and an entraced smile. Her thumb traced over the fluorescent red and down the stem. "Eliza, be careful not prick yourself on the ro--" A slight sting made her twitch. Blood trailed down the inside of her thumb. Seeping down with life, she stared down in amazement, not even noticing her mother gasp and run to her. As her mother's hand reached out, pain rang through Eliza and she stuck her freckled thumb into her mouth. Her untrimmed fingernail clawed at her loose teeth and she felt tears run down her cheeks. Her mother pouted and held her as she cried uncontrollably. How could something so beautiful and glorious hurt her so? "You have to be careful, baby! Listen to me!"

Then, the taste was innocent, boiling with confusion and shock. Switching to comfort once her mom's arms wrapped around her.

His greasy palms slid over her newly formed bruises and she writhed in pain. This wasn't what home was. With the might that stung through her open veins, her weak arms sprang up from her sides and the easel dropped down the floor along with him. He cursed and screamed in slurs as the shards pierced his back. And, she ran from the kitchen. Adrenaline pumping through her veins as she made her escape, wiping her face clean of his watercolors and her arms from his blotches and thorns. Finally stepping away from the rose bush, thumb in mouth.