Generation Freaks✔️

Chapter 3.

Paisley threw herself down on the twin bed framed by rusty bed hinges and rails, the springy mattress squeaked beneath her weight. She fell back onto her wool pillow and gazed somberly up at the wooden beams that kept the ceiling from caving in on the room.

The hollow hole in her stomach twisted painfully, yelling at her for the lack of food. Mentally, she cursed herself for skipping on lunch earlier that day at school.

"Paisels," Paris spoke as if consoling an upset child. "Look, we're on break tomorrow, we can go to the Hideout. They always have loads of food, we'll be totally fine."

Paisley shifted her gaze to her best friend, staring at her dully. "The food isn't the issue Paris." She rubbed her temples, as if there was a headache beginning to form once again. "I just – I want her to get better."

The second mattress of the other twin bed in the room groaned in protest as Paris settled her weight on her own bed, rustling the handmade quilt thrown carelessly over it. "She chooses what she wants Paisels, you know that. Miss Guilding doesn't want to be fixed, she wants to live naturally. We have to respect that."

Paisley folded her arms behind her head, returning her attention to the wooden beams once again, furrowing her eyebrows as she began to count them for about the millionth time in her life. It was a coping mechanism to keep her anger under murky waters.

"Why can't she see what it's doing to us? She's being selfish, killing herself this way. It isn't fair."

"Paisley," Paris scolded, her tone slightly harsh to emphasize the name she spoke. "This is her decision, she has every right to want this. It's her life-"

"What about our lives? Huh? She's going to leave us alone, just like our other families did!"

"Paisley, they had to and you know that. They didn't want to risk our lives, so they did what was best for us and left us behind. Maybe the circumstances of how we grew up weren't the best, but it was better then what could've happened to us."

"But Miss Guilding has a choice-"

"And she's made it. We should respect that Paisels. I don't blame her, I wouldn't want to be clarified as a Wise, yet look like a Middle. I want to look the way I really am, whenever or whatever that is."

Paisley's head turned sharply, her eyes narrowing at Paris as she pursed her lips. "You don't really mean that, do you?" The inquisition was hissed between clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring.

Silence followed as thick as Break Time clouds, a dense fog pressed downwards, blocking all penetrating sounds.

"I do mean that." Paris' calm natured voice cracked the sound barriers. "One day, we'll thrive again. People won't be afraid of us anymore, they'll see us as regulars. They'll know we won't harm them. So yeah, I do mean it, because one day we'll be able to show ourselves."

Paisley threw her head back on her pillow, an exasperated groan leaving her lips as she pressed her palms into her eyes. "Do you not understand they'll never accept us? Not after what The Generals did. For Goddess sake, why can't you just get it in your head we'll never be liked for who we are? Our kind has done too much damage, its irreparable."

"One day Paisley," hope lay thick like a white cushion of snow in her voice. "One day they'll accept us again."

Paisley's hands dropped on the bed on each side of her, bouncing lightly as they hit the mattress and her eyes squeezed shut. "You sound so much like Theo, it's totally creepy sometimes."

"Theo is a good man, he knows what he's talking about."

"Oh, shut up, you're just in love with him. Admit it."