Vanity

Vanity is what my Mother called the mirror resting against the wall.

She beat into me the ideals of beauty... till the marks reached down into my very core.

"Everything I do I do for you", became her flippant call-

To arms.

Arms the wrapped around my neck, smothering, calling me a whore's burden.

Lost daughter?

Who'll lay claim?

None, I was the offspring of a wicked witch she said.

I stabbed...

The blood dripped down and slithered onto the floor.

I waited, knife in hand, for the whole world to see who was truly the fairest of them all...