Love

Shattered dishes surrounded her broken body in lovely disarray. The crystalline shards shimmered in the moonlight, sparkling in and out as heavy clouds passed steadily by, consuming the light. The kitchen floor had become slick with blood, not all of her own - but certainly in part.

Her once beautiful body had become marked with bruises and scars, evidence of the destruction that took place earlier that day. The scars crissed-crossed her arms and legs like crimson fishnets, designed to never be removed from the body; while the bruises gave her skin a sickening shading that no artist could properly portray. The golden-brown hue of her hair had become crisp from dry and semi-dry blood, but her face remained untouched. If she were to smile, her image would be both gorgeous and horrific all at once.

Selfish

Her distant brown eyes snapped open with the voice and her head rose slowly from the floor. Hours had past - hours of time to soak in the pool that left that wretched stench. Her head ached from the fall that she had taken, and her hand rose to touch the blood that coated her hair, failing to stop the throbbing pain.

Vain

She shook her head, then moved to balance herself while she rose. She winced as the glass in her legs embedded itself more deeply. She would not look herself in the mirror, the image of who she was and what had happened to her was not one she wished to see.

Slowly she made her way to the front door, following the trail of blood that he had left.

Liar... thief

He had taken the car, leaving her stranded. He had left her to die. A trickle of a tear started down her face and she reached to wipe it away, smearing blood in its place. Feeling the moisture spread, she fell to her knees by the door, staring at her hands.

Hate

Maybe, she thought, maybe I deserve what he's done to me.

He told her he hated her... many times. He even told her that he wished she was dead. But only a week before it had been 'Love' - and he had said that far more often than the hate he gave her now. That had lasted for years - everyday. Yet now, he was different. She had asked his reason for the hate, and he had not answered... not for a long time. In a hesitant reply, she would receive "I hate you because I love you. I both hate and love you."

A cryptic, yet stunningly forward and real answer. Beautiful in its own right.

What is this now? she asked herself, Love or hate?

Then she looked at the blood, scars, and lies... and she laughed. Love.