Malicious whispers belabor against the divider of her mind between left and right. The torment and discomfort of her glassy eyes regard the merriment surrounding her. Her trembling limbs fail to guide her against the gelid touch of ice invading her very being. Agony waterfalls into her heart thrashing against the hollow corners.
She only remembers who she lost and the great misery replacing them. Joviality no longer lived here, and was replaced by quite the opposite. She forgot the solicitous
people still protecting her, and pushed them farther, only to land herself in an asylum.
Barbed wire fences cowered over Ainsley, and made her feel uneasy. Blinding blonde hair covered her sapphire eyes leaving a sense of questioning. Two monstrous men seized her and pulled her into a Cab, and left her holding the icy side of the car. Ainsley came to keel over into a sleep, reclining against the shoulder of Hulk.
The wrongly accused Ainsley Jones of manslaughter was somewhat schizophrenic. She hadn’t a single memory of any murder by her own hand. The last thing Ainsley could remember was a purple jumpsuit and a belt for a pair of trousers strained against her arteries. Then there was a gun shot, a flicker of light, and all was lost. What seemed like days later had converted into hours before she found herself with an undimmed police flashlight blanketing her. From there she met muscle man number one, and muscle man number two.
Her once satin hair and piercing azure eyes had been replaced. Probably by a sinister stranger deriving her once full life, leaving her with insipid tan hair and a featureless face.
Ainsley dreamed of absconding her life, the life she had two years ago. Before she was on her way to the mental institution. She was fully aware that she was non compos mentis. She knew where muscle man number one and muscle man two were taking her. The only thing she didn’t recognize, was how did they think she was such a loony, to need two body builders to holding her down?
Muscle man number two unmannerly shook her awake, and hauled her across the torn leather seats to face frigid weather. Her purple jumpsuit was stained, and gave her the look of vulgarity. She hung onto muscle man number two’s side, to support her unsteady limbs. Stained bricks fought to stay on the swaying building, and flickering lights caught her attention. Locked windows, and bars over most.
The two super humans kept their expressionless face, and practically lifted her above the room as they fumbled through numerous keys. They gripped her arm and imprisoned her in a padded room, with only a chair, a mirror, and a sink.
Soon she came to know that she would be served three meals a day, and was to scrub floors as punishment. They obviously thought of her as substandard, or it was because she was in a house for mentally unstable people. Maybe they thought she wasn’t insane and was positioned here because no one else would take her? That’s it, because Ainsley is completely and totally rational.
Everyone surrounding her had a disturbing aura clinging to their clothes. Insanity hung in the air, and tempted everyone to have a taste. Ainsley’s predictions brought her to a comfortable state of mind. Dementia was tempting everyone, which lead her to the thoughts of Sirens. She sworn she’d seen one last year, tantalized by the long mermaid hair, and the turquoise water surrounding the Siren. Ainsley had a reason for everything. The Siren swore her out into the water, Ainsley could’ve made it into the water if people hadn’t stopped her from jumping. It was not suicide, it was need.
Ainsley swore to prove everyone wrong, she is not crazy. She never was, nor will she ever be. Besides the fact she wasn’t mad, and was thrown into a bucket of scum, she was to stay here too.
Her Orchestra scripts sat closely to the imaginary bed on the padded floor, two weeks later. Ainsley’s brain grew two sizes too large and thrashed against her clear mind. A wrinkly hand clasped the sheets of music, and ripped them apart. She lugged herself out of bed, and pulled herself up to eye length the mirror.
Something wasn’t quite right. . . Blue eyes turned to gray. . . Blonde hair to white. . .
Ainsley was a 82 year old woman.