BADLANDS

castle

PART ONE: THE BADLANDS

"tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised."

2 MONTHS LATER

9:07 AM

the warmth of the tea in the rusty glass flask sears through her hands, spreading heat that seeps into her bruised, icy cold fingers.

its morning, ashley, she tells her vacant eyes reflected in the flask, go back to sleep.

but she's waken up with an idea, and she can't rest until she's got it scribbled down somewhere, whether it be a piece of jagged notebook paper or her skin.

she stirs, sinking deeper into the hard, stiff mattress as she stares at the peeling brown wall, cracks running through the paper. she feels the same way every time she wakes up; hollow.

the empty sensation lingers in her chest, sending a rush of longing through her, from her trembling fingers to her cold lips.

she's always disappointed that she wakes up alive in this disgusting city.

trying to forget this eerie feeling, she closes her eyes, trying to remember the music she had dreamed of.

her idea is just this music running through her head and inside her veins, a simple loop. it's the sound of a gospel chorus, a blending of voices singing straight to the heavens.

there are no lyrics to accompany it, though. it's just noise, and she's sick of all of it.

this idea is useless if there's no lyrics.

that's what the man in the suit had told the girl, exactly 6 weeks ago. he had told her what she needed to write.

"i can make you a star," he had whispered, leaning deep into his chair.
"i can get you out of this place..."

she shudders now, remembering the vicious smile that had spread his face, darkening his jade green eyes.

he had given her a new name, after laughing when she told him she didn't have one.

he told her that her name was now ashley.

she rolls it off her tongue again, sounding out the pretty syllables. it reminded her of blue, like the sky. a perfect name for a happy girl, unlike her.

and she was a mess of a girl, trapped inside her own fucked up world.

huddled under thin, scratchy wool blankets, ashley makes out the cluttered space next to her bed. her apartment stares blankly back at her.

she hears the sounds of the badlands pass by from her foggy window, trains blaring, cars rushing, occasional gun shots.

no sirens ever sound.

this was most of what she knew of the place she lived in, since she doesn't even leave her apartment, fearful of the world outside.

her lack of memories sends a sharp pang through her.

she leans over to the table, letting her bright blue hair spill over her shoulders. she scrawls down a word, CASTLE, onto a post-it note in brash lettering, before she sets down her tea and passes back out on the mattress, shuddering as if she feels the wings of a moth flit by her.

she decides right before her vision fades to black that she is going to meet with the man soon.

-------

"now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it."

10:17 PM

"ID?" the mans gruff voice barks at her, cocking his rifle inches away from the curves of her chest. his hair is slicked back underneath his camouflage hat, signifying he's fed from the hands of the military.