The death of beauty

By Fleur De'La fay
She stands a silhouette under the canopy of leafy green trees, tears stain her face and the stark white fabric of her wrap top and the swirling white of her skirt soiled with mud and moss. Bits of bark grasp her elaborately strung up dark hair. She runs blindly, stepping in and out of the honey dappled sun rays that reach down to stroke the forest floor. The ornate jewelry still hanging off her slim frame. She throws her self to the brambles and thorns that threaten to tear her silken skin the shreds. Eyes welling with tears she howls her lamentation to the trees. Desperate to get away from the truth. But away was closer than she thought. With the intent to weep with her friend willow Aphrodite wills the energy into her body, drags herself up. With a soft swishing noise the beautiful golden arrow, one of 12 made by Hephaestus him self, screams toward her pale slender neck. Dazzling and shining in dieing rays of sun it hits its mark and sends the young goddess reeling back. Her arms pin wheeling desperately she stumbles and is pinned to the ebony white tree. The blood pools slowly and crimson droplets slip down her collar and spill onto her uniform.
"Give me your immortality to me!" Medusa screams as she approaches the tree where she’s pinned the Aphrodite with the golden arrow. The girl smiles sickly, sweet and raise’s her fingers to tear the bloody arrow out of her neck. Slowly she licks the blood off its gleaming shaft.
"I think it’s been 12 times that you've shot me with this arrow now." The girl murmurs, the scarlet fluid clinging to her lips. Blossoming like wild roses the blood leaks from her neck.
“You will never be beautiful again, nor will you ever be with your sisters! Whatever master you serve I spit on, but I can’t say I don’t welcome the escape, the innocence of childhood I will embrace with open arms.” She rasps.
Medusa watches silently, disappointed.
“I could have set you in the sky to blaze forever. Where your brilliance would shine forever, no such immortality would snuff you then, but instead you choose to live this lie, this fallacy that you are loved. You’re fading Aphrodite, soon your name will be nothing not even a foreign word in a dusty text book.”
“Your wrong” Aphrodite hisses.
“No, no I’m not.” Medusa angry and dejected screams.

A whip creaks and Medusa screams.
“No, no master, I meant not to kill her!”
“You wasted an opportunity to manipulate the girl!” The raspy sandpaper voice crackles and groans like old rusty hinges.
“You will not disobey me again….”