Generation Freaks✔️

Chapter 12

The blades of grass pricked her ankles, stroking her flesh, scraping against the bottom of her feet. But pain wasn't something she felt, it was as if she were walking on those rare treats named marshmallows, they were gooey and soft to the touch. Just like the path she walked on.

"Paisley." The sultry voice whispered, drifting through the air on a bed of swishing wind. "Paisley."

She knew the feminine voice, there was no mistaking it, but naming it was the problem. It lay on the top of her tongue, but spilling forth was not something it was willing to do. She whipped her head around, eyes darting in every direction to find the sole source of the voice. But where it came from went undetected.

"Paisley," chimes singing in the air danced over her, flicking sparkles of glitter to rain down upon her.

Paris? Her mouth wouldn't move, it couldn't, but the name skipped through the air, halting the melodious voice that had sang her name.

A deafening silence pushed down on her lungs, twisting them into braids, and yet, there was still no pain. She had halted, an action that had gone unnoticed in her search for the speaker until now, and Paisley glanced around. The surroundings, just as the voice had been, were familiar, but the name once again lost in the turmoil that spun in a swirl of grey within her mind. She'd been here before, but when? How?

"Come home, Paisley." There it was again, coaxing her with words she knew nothing about.

Home? She had no home, hadn't in such a long time, or so it felt like it. Miss Guilding had given her a home, hit she had never truly felt at place in there, no matter how hard she'd tried. Home was just another word in Paisley's vocabulary that she knew, it had no sharp definition she could hold it to. Where was this home that the mystical voice spoke of? Paisley could only keep rooted to her spot, staring into a void of nothing.

The air glimmered, closing in, deepening in color. Orange began to swirl into a dark rich purple and the ground beneath her feet shook violently, rocking Paisley backwards, making her stumble and fall on her back. Once more, there was no pain, she couldn't feel a single thing. The sky above bounced in waves above her and making her feel as though she were floating on her back in water. It was so soothing, so calming, and sent Paisley hovering into the air.

"Paisley, come home." The whispering voices were being whisked away, sounding muffled, as if hidden behind a closed door.

Disturbed from relaxation, Paisley stirred and sat up stiffly, eyes straight ahead. There was no source for the voice, no shadow bouncing away through the field surrounding her. It was grass only, bristled by an invisible wind, murmuring her name in echo. Turning in a one-eighty degree angle, she found, just as before, there was nothing around. Only a glimmer of metal in the distance sparked and Paisley knew that if she walked towards it, it would slip away from her, just as the voice had done, with every step she took. A clap of thunder smashed through the sky, trembling the ground beneath her feet. Stumbling back, Paisley locked her knees to keep herself from falling back to the ground. The sky began to blotch in black dots, the ink began to spread, crawling over the sky, spreading. Icy prickles twirled up her legs, freezing her to the spot in which she stood. Helpless, Paisley reached out in front of her, desperate to latch onto something, anything. But even in the growing darkness, there was nothing to save her.

A scrape of nails scratched at the flesh of her arms, bony fingers as cold as the water at the bottom of a frozen ravine scampered across her flesh, curling around her wrists. Paisley jerked, a futile attempt to break free of her captor. The veins that pumped blood through her system began to fool, crusting over in ice. Her mouth opened, all intent to scream within the movement, but it was to no avail. There was no sound to come forth. Writhing in the grip, she began to feel the restriction of her lungs. Colors began to spin in front of her eyes, she couldn't feel her limbs, the cold had seeped through to her bones. The sky began to dribble, almost as if a blast of heat was being blown onto it, melting the very fabric that stitched it together.