And that's how it ended,

with her strung out on eyeliner and foundation, clinging to the mascara brush and the little applicator sponge.  I told her it was bad, bad, stuff, but she wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t give it up, addicted to the high, the color, the coverage.

I walked out the door, knowing I would never return.  A tear rolled down my cheek as I turned to say goodbye and saw her, eyes rimmed red, backed into a corner with a fresh Estee Lauder Automatic Creme Concealer, listed at $17.50 on their website, held tightly in her hands….