Contrivance

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contrivance
/kənˈtraɪv(ə)ns/
noun
a complicated machine piece of equipment designed for a particular purpose.  

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"You can't wake up, this is not a dream,
You're part of a machine, you are not a human being.
With your face all made up, living on a screen,
Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline.

Oh, oh, oh, oh,
I think there's a flaw in my code,
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
These voices won't leave me alone,"
-Gasoline, Halsey


"Hard wired, Shot through,the desire to record and devour you.
The flinch, the system crash,
10101111101
so close, now i can show you, all the inner working things,
the hard driver's, heart never saved me ... s-s-s-sound so heavy.
stay,
halo heavy,
you made me,
a bad machine."
-Bad Machine by Nostalgia ft. Insomnia 

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WARNING: THIS STORY DOES NOT CONTAIN TRACES OF ROMANCE ALIKE OTHERS. 

~PROMPT: LOVE FOR ONESELF IS BROKEN.~

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I warned u the contrivance chapter would be different (some serious dystopian-like alice in wonder land shit so) (also this quinn IS quinn from darkness prevails, my other novel, and this will be featured in a chapter there, but assonance sees it ...

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I warned u the contrivance chapter would be different (some serious dystopian-like alice in wonder land shit so) (also this quinn IS quinn from darkness prevails, my other novel, and this will be featured in a chapter there, but assonance sees it first)

⥂♫⥃

dedicated to 3.14 , she's the queen of paranormal , seriously (villain academy *sighs longingly*)

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IT WAS A QUIET DAY in the Lancaster household. Quinn lay back on her bed, in a state of unease. She felt out of place; like someone had ripped her soul from her body and placed her in another. Each blink, each breath; every action done feeling foreign and unaccustomed to. Like each movement was an act from the natural preparedness of the brain, and her aura felt sluggish to follow in response, creating a slow reaction in its wake. She couldn't remember how she got home, or even in bed. Her body was pyjamas clad, flat on top of her sheets, the blankets and pillows feeling unusually soft and crisp.

Her mind wandered as her body stilled. What had she been doing? What time was it? Why was she in her room?

She turned her head, gazing around to find that it was night time. Darkness coated the room like a second skin, snug tight, fitting into every crack and crevice excluding what the circular window on the right wall allowed in. That being the only light source, Quinn could barely make out what surrounded her even though it was the room she had lived in all her life. 

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