Mixing

"try that, the red one"
Alex cringed as once again his mother stood over his shoulder, pointing out the faults with his newest project. The painting was coming along well, or so he though. He wasn't great yet, just a beginner, really, but he'd sold a few paintings and drawings so far, and thought that he might have a career at it if only he could get out of this house.
"You shouldn't be mixing those two colors..they clash."
"THAT'S THE POINT" Alex's head screamed at him in frustration, and he tried to block out the incessant nagging of his overbearing mother. He wished she'd just go away.

The doorbell rang about fifteen minutes later, much to the beleaguered boy's relief. Finally, he could get things done. He'd done as little as he could while she was in his studio so he wouldn't have to do much damage control. A few splashes of paint later and he was right back on track. his new piece was a work of art from concept. The unbridled love between all types humans can express, and in the center, the heartache of that love's destruction. It would be his first masterpiece. he was excited, and that excitement manifested in frantic energy. He worked, and painted, and fumed angry at his lack of inspiration, and found that inspiration in banal things, before finally looking at the canvas, and realizing that perhaps his reach exceeded his grasp. but no, he couldn't stop. he'd poured too much of himself into this and couldn't stop now. he was so close, so close.
His mother came in on him, his room stinking of effort.
"It's been five days, Alex, and i don't see anything you've done. now put the brush down and go take a shower. You stink"
Alex ignored her, putting touches here and there, and mumbling in his sleep-deprived mind.
"No, not that, not yet..here? maybe."

"ALEX! you listen to me right now!"
His mother reached out, and grabbed at his hand, her fingers finding his paint brush instead. She smirked and wrenched it from his hand, causing the crazed teen to look at her with a mad frenzy, and in a near overwhelming rage lunge for it. His mother laughed sadistically and held it out of his grasp, backing out of the room.
"You can have it back after you take a shower and clean this place up., Now do what i say."

Alex slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated, for just a second, before grabbing a nearby pallet and slamming it against his mother's scalp causing the woman to shriek and fall to the floor. Again and again, he brought the pallet down onto her, smashing her face, and head, silencing her cries and her disdain, her criticism for goo, until nothing but a bloody pulp remained on the floor of his studio. Blood spattered all over the walls and empty canvases. not even his masterpiece was spared, and he turned to it after picking his paint brush up out of his mothers cooling hand.
He stared blankly at the blood flowing through the paint, smearing the work he'd been so fervent about getting just right, and his hand released the brush.

"perfect.." he said, in a low, whispered tone.