Song turned Novel - Wrap me in Plastic

Ever listened to a song and thought, 'wow! This song would be great if it had a story' Nyx Keira got your back.Disclaimer: I do not own the songs, nor the meanings or inspiration behind the songs. I am simply writing short stories in a way I think fits the songs. All the characters are my OC, and that is all. *WRAP ME IN PLASTIC*This story depicts drug abuse, forced labour and brutal inhumanity amongst others. Proceed with caution.The room was cold, not the kind that came with a heavy rain and morning chill, or the kind that came with a strong winter breeze. This was the kind that associated an abandoned life, the kind that emanated from the very bones. The kind that made one stoop over all the time, the one that made one wrap themselves up to keep the cold away.That was the very first thing Ainsley noticed. Following it was the pain. From her legs. Feet actually. In fact, more accurately, the pain originated from her ankles. It operated through her entire body, numbing her, keeping her trapped in a vicious loop of 'pain, cold, pain, cold...'Then she heard it. The slow, rhythmic 'drip, drip, drip...' of a liquid somewhere. Far away, but wherever she was was quiet enough for the drips to echo into her very soul and rattle her bones. Her body shivered violently, cold aching fingers bending a little to scratch at the floor beneath her.Finally, her sight came to her. As her eyes fluttered open, her head began to ache. Not the one that came with a wild night out, nor the one that came with hitting the skull against a surface. This one felt like her brain was struggling with her skull, breaking through the cranium to escape.From what? She did not know.She immediately shut her eyes close, trying to will the pain back into faint nonexistence, but it continued with relentless force, as if opening her eyes had triggered a switch that could never go off on.Fine.Ignoring the headache, Ainsley opened her eyes again, and noticed her head was hanging down. Wrapped around her neck was something cold. And heavy. And oppressive. She tried to swallow against her dried tongue.Hopeless.She carefully lifted her head, biting back a whimper as she looked around. Everywhere was dark. No light. No window. Nothing. It was like she was in a small metal box.Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what she was doing here. She couldn't remember how she got here. The more she tried to recall, the harder her brain fought, until she just gave up.At that very moment, an odd screeching sound assaulted her recovering and twitchy senses, causing her to flinch with too much force. Her muscles rebelled, pulling against her skin, causing the whimper she had been holding in to slip out.Up ahead, where the sound was originating from, a door rose up, and bright light filled the room Ainsley was in, causing her retinas to yell in pain, and her to bend her head.Then footsteps. Or, more accurately, the definite 'click, click' of a pair of heels that knew exactly where they were headed and how they were headed. Ainsley managed to lift her head, dull eyes falling on a pair of heels standing before her. Bright red, the kind that harassed weak retinas.The person crouched, and a perfectly manicured finger hovered under Ainsley's chin. And pushed up, causing Ainsley to look away from the ground.And into a pair of cold, flawless, violet eyes that roved around her, head to toe. Like she was cattle, or a piece of furniture.Finally, the woman removed her finger, and Ainsley felt her head hanging back down."She's OK." The woman said, her voice light and chirpy like an excited bird.Ainsley's ears protested.More footsteps followed, and hands moved around Ainsley. Iron shackles fell, and Ainsley realised that was what caused the pain and discomfort around her neck and ankles.Hands wrapped around the skinny forearms, lifting her up to her unstable feet. Ainsley did not have time to catch up before she was dragged, literally, away, into a room so pink, and so bright, and so loud Ainsley felt sick. Well, sicker.This room, was filled with mirrors, and people, bustling. The counters and vanities had various makeup equipments, and a few things that looked like they belonged in a machinery. Ainsley could not look around, as she was roughly led to a seat. The moment she was pushed in it, her arms were placed on the armrest, and locked in place. Confused, Ainsley turned and watched the men who dragged her in leaving. She then looked to her right, and for the first time since she woke up, she felt pure unadulterated terror.Strapped to the chair beside her was a man, whose hair was slicked back like that of a doll. His outfit also looked plastic, and shoes too. Two women were attending to his fingers painting and layering, transforming the grotesque skinny digits into doll lookalikes.But what terrified Ainsley was his face. His blue eyes, bright and synthetic were wide with pain and panic, but his lips were strechted into an unnatural grin. A grim that literally went from ear to ear. His skin had split, his life essence spilling down his 'perfect' skin. Standing in front of him was a man, who was busy stitching the smile in place, ignoring the red liquid that marred his face Ainsley's body shook wildly as she began to grapple in her seat with her limited strength. But nobody looked at her. Nobody flinched. Nobody even blinked in her direction.Dread pooled in the pit of Ainsley's stomach as she fought again. Just then, five people arrived, each holding what looked like a makeup box. And one a loaded syringe.Ainsley tried to struggle, but with a blank face, the one with the syringe approached, and immediately injected Ainsley.The result was immediate. Everywhere went dark. Her eyelids did not drop, but the world went dark.******When Ainsley came around, five senses hit her at once. She was in pain all over. Not the mild kind. The kind that made one prefer to die. She was standing, and cramped, and her face felt pulled apart and reconstructed. Next, everywhere was loud. Music. People screaming. It was too bright. Pink, blue, white and red flashes everywhere, plus the main golden that blinded her.She tried to tune out the excess information, but then, the music changed, and she began moving. That terrified her. Because her brain was not giving instructions, and yet, her hands were going up, her legs bending, her body twirling. Each move sent a wave of pain and nausea through her, and the faint sound of something rough like rusted unoiled machines.That was when she saw her reflection up ahead, above the sea of heads that filled the audience. Her black hair was now blonde and held up in an elaborate hairstyle that made her look like 1800s fashionistas. Her face was smooth. Plastic smooth. Her eyes were blue, and round, like that of a doll. Her cheeks were red with rouge. And her mouth. Ainsley shuddered as she executed a turn. Her mouth was smiling, the edges drawn all the way to her ears. Her teeth, white and unreal shone back at her, smiling at the audience.Ainsley continues to dance, despite not knowing why. When she finally finished, she walked off stage, mechanically as another doll passed her, looking exactly as terrified and as plastic as she was.Ainsley moved without her accord, into a small room where that woman from earlier was. She Ignored Ainsley's entrance, speaking over her phone. Then she approached Ainsley and pasted a sml note on her chest. Before she left.Before Ainsley was a mirror, and a note on her chest that read: 'Plastic Doll 0978'

Referral Earning

Points-to-Coupons