Nestled underneath the tall, shadowy oak of the school campus, Liz spent her school day as usual...wasting it away.
Even as the sun's rays basked and sizzled against her pale, ghostly complexion, the girl couldn't help but feel no warmth at all piercing her frail skin....skin marred with several cuts, several red and black scars, the grisly results of her melancholy scraping across the fragile flesh in the form of a razor blade or a lit cigarette, the searing...hellish agony giving her some sort of release, some sort of comfort as the blood trickled down her arms and fell from her slender fingertips. She had covered the scars with various tattoos, just as she hid her tired, bloodshot eyes behind tousled strands of hair dyed blue, ugly streaks of red bristling around an orb of emerald green like crimson lightning. Thick, black chasms weighed deep under her eyelids as a result from countless nights left awake lamenting and trapped in lachrymose, and clenched between her lips was yet another cigarette already lit, bent and crumpled.
"Another year....." She muttered to herself in a sigh, an exhale of thin white smoke to follow. She really had no cares at all if smoking wasn't allowed is school, nor did she give a shit what her "parents" would say about it. All Elizabeth ever cared for...was herself. Her focus remained attentive on the sketchbook in her lap, barely even noticing how much time had passed at all as she was zoned out, entranced in two of her loves...art and music. Her pencil kept moving between her two fingers as Crosses by Jose Gonzales played softly in her ears, each stroke either broad or slender creating her masterpiece before her very eyes, a vision pulled from the confines of her imagination and spilled out unto the cream white page. Once she was done, she looked down at her creation, a detailed sketch of a girl sitting beside the ocean, rather pleased with it. Just a few more finishing touches on the shading and whatnot and she closed her book setting it aside and switching off her Mp3, stuffing it in the pocket of her flannel before resting against the thick trunk and yawning.