Her Orange Dreadlocks

E.I.G.H.T. Sing me to sleep.

[I hope you enjoy it!]

E.I.G.H.T.

"Elizabeth! Don't you walk away from me, young lady." her mother's sharp tongue lashed out at her from across the dinner table as she placed her large green coffee cup down on the table in front of her. They had been discussing Elizabeth's declaration to join Marilyn's tour group, and her mother did not approve. Elizabeth stood and was on her way to walk out the door when she turned to face her mother.

"Honestly, mom. I don't really care what tone you use with me. I'm not in the mood for your crap this morning." she said, her voice was cold and distant, and it caused her mother to stare at her in utter shock.

"What the hell did you just say to me, Elizabeth Angelique Schroeder, oh...I know you did not dare give me that tone." she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she slowly stood from her seat at the table.

Eliza grimaced at her usage of her full name. She thought of her father, and what her daddy would think about her talking to her mom this way, but she thought a sincere apology, because she couldn't do this with her mother anymore.

"Look, mom." she started, turning fully to face her short mother now. "I love you to death and back, but you are trying to turn me into someone that I will never, ever be. I can't do that anymore. I've pretended for four years, ever since my father died, that it would be alright to please you this way. To become part of your vicarious dream of acting, but I don't even really like acting, so why in the hell would I ever be a good one?" Eliza pleaded, "Besides, oh god....I just...how can you believe that I'd want to be like you? I am my own person with my own desires, and you've known that since I was seven years old, mom! I'm not seven anymore! I am going to be twenty years old next month, and depending on how this month goes with the band, I may or may not be living here for the next year!" Eliza shrugged and then turned around, but before she left she turned her head to the side.

"Mom. I love you, you're beautiful. We need to be soft with each other, and we need to understand each other. I am not bailing on your plans to buy that house, nor do I have any idea why you want it so badly, but I will still help you out as best that I can, but if I can't help you then you will have to understand that this tour thing is MY thing, and I want to do it with or without you in my way, I love you mom." Eliza turned her back and grabbed her bag before leaving.

Marilyn had instructed her that she would meet him at the club, and they would begin their training there. He was going to teach her how to sing, how to dance, move and walk while singing and keeping pitch, and also how to keep a show going while on stage.

"It's your job to keep the people in that audience entertained. They're savages, they want your blood. So, you have to train yourself to fight them, also." Manson had explained to her. Even though, at the time it didn't make any kind of sense that the fans out in the audience would be looking for her blood, but she decided to trust him on that one, because who was the expert in this situation? He was.

Eliza was taking a break, sitting on the stage in the club when Marilyn came up to her and sat beside her. He was panting lightly from their exercise only moments before and so she couldn't help but smile that he'd worn himself out. He looked up from his spot and raised his eyebrow at her.

"What?" he asked her loudly, feigning annoyance.

Eliza chuckled. "Nothing, Nothing." she said, looking at his face. It was different, seeing him without makeup. You could tell how he applied the makeup and how it made his face look like it had more definition than it really did. However, you could tell that he was Marilyn Manson, with or without his makeup applications. Eliza knew it, and she knew she'd never forget seeing him without it, and she'd never forget how surreal this entire month had been for her.