Hope was a concept that was so foreign to Sloane. She had never been taught to hope, to wish for something better than the life she had been given. She had been born with the world telling her this was the hand she had been dealt with and she simply had to make it work or scram. She couldn’t life with her mother or her triplet siblings. One would think that being a triplet would make her bond so closely to her brother and sister and yet, Sloane rarely thought about them. They were the favored children and she was an unfortunate accident. When her mother could no longer feed her, she was weaned far too early. She missed out on bonding and love, on something she so desperately needed in order to make her a softer, more nurturing individual.
Instead, from the moment her hooves hit the ground, she had been forced to fight. Fight to suckle from her mother’s teat, fight for affection, fight for all her basic needs. She had been fighting so long she didn’t know how to stop. Building up her walls were a crutch that kept her afloat. It was how she managed the hand that life had dealt her. It wasn’t efficient or helpful, but it was all she knew. She didn’t know how to hope. No one had cared enough to teach her.
The step more into the forest, Sloane missing the sound of the water rushing against the stones. She misses the sounds of chaos. It is this quietness that makes her uneasy. Ears are erect, her neck arched, her muscles tense. It is as if she is just waiting for something to come out of the quiet and ruin this moment. Because in her mind, what good could possibly come of this? What had she done to deserve an ounce of peace? It was a sad life she lived, a life that was more defensive. But then again, there had been no one to teach her otherwise. It would take a patient individual and time for her to see that there was so much more to life than she gave credit for.
His voice breaks up the silence of the forest (as silent as the chirping birds, the wind between the leaves, and the whispers of insects can be) and he is telling her that he would be her friend. She slows her pace, her eyes resting on him. She Shakes her head. “You don’t want me as your friend.” No one wanted her. It was a theme that had been playing deep in her thoughts since the beginning of her life. “You aren’t wanted, Sloane.” “No one will love you.” “No one will even blink when you die.” It was these thoughts that had been ingrained in her head from the moment she took her first breath. The damage had been done and no one had bothered to try and clean up the debris.
She halts, her sigh heavy as she looks up at him. There is a sense of determination in the way she looks at him, a look that tells him that she will not so easily be won over. “Look, buddy…I’m fifty shades of fucked up and you most definitely are too nice to get wrapped up in the likes of me.” He was far too pure to get tainted by the black cloud that seemed to hover over him. He deserved better than Sloane had to offer.
@Ipomoea
