Natalie's tears stained her face covered with make-up covering the little bruise she have in her chin. The old woman, face also with make-up, standing on her side was outraged, sending Natalie a hard slap on the face. Her cheek became numb, and sooner, she felt the texture of the brush touching her skin. Her face was perfect again, her curls lying on her shoulder, her eyelashes pretty long, and her lips red.
She closed her eyes, managed to form a smile, and now, the stage is all hers.
We don't have love, we show mercy.
What you want is knife or tears, roses or escape.
Dust, fear, blood.
The woman on the ground is twitching, blood constantly spilled from her mouth, the whites of the eyes all over the blood, she mumbles in a gravel friction rustle sound. She sobbed, unwilling to die, the body to the man wriggling, as if in need of help.
She has no idea what's going on, poor little thing.