these MEMORIES, how they HAUNT me >> open

[annie]

Fuck.


Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The damn mare, why did she had to be such, well such a mare. Goddamn. The thoughts lasted a mere moment as the teen stumbled into the loft, her right hand holding an open wound on her left arm. Blood was spilling from her fingers, not enough to be too serious, but enough to leave a trail, make one light headed. Although used to spilling her blood, the teen had been surprised by the mare's bite, worsened with a kick to the same arm. Sighing she wandered around the loft searching for a roll of paper towels, maybe a band aid, but she doubted there would be one big enough. Finding the towels she sank down on the couch and lifted her fingers off the wound. It had stopped bleeding for the most part, but had begun to turn a nasty shade of blue-green. Letting out another sigh she dabbed at the wound, smiling slightly as she saw the teeth marks, might leave an interesting scar, she thought. Wiping the blood off her hands she left the paper towels on the floor, it wasn't her job to pick up, so leave it for the cleaners.

Leaning back on the couch she stared up at the celling, thankful that it was near midnight, no one in their right mind would be at the stable at this hour. So that left her alone, alone, she was always alone. Since her brother had been murdered she had never cared for anyone, she had never cared what they thought or what they felt. She had become a loner, no one wanted to become in contact, no one wanted to come near. Even on the streets she was feared, people walked the other way, adverted their eyes. Only a few selected people had ever made it into her heart, a mistake on her part. He had been a bastard, she had ignored the warnings. He had a car, he had cash, he had a place to stay. He didn't have a juvie record, making him less noticed. But he had taken everything. The fucker had taken who she was and made her what she was now. He had run off with what money she'd had, leaving her broken. The teen had never looked back on him, she had dragged herself off the street, a broken arm, ribs, maybe a concussion. The girl had never looked back, not then, but she was now.

Maybe she was tired of being alone, tired of the fighting, of the abuse, but she would never be able to escape it, she would never be able to run off the path she was headed towards. She knew it would be an early death that would mark her grave, a painful long death, she would suffer. She would suffer just as her brother had, just as her mother had. And she would be alone.

Sighing the teen covered her face with her small hands, coking back a sob. She had not cried in years, she hadn't even uttered a sound with the deaths of the ones she had known. But now she was silently crying, tears running down her bruised and scarred face, she was again alone. Memories she had tried so hard to keep way came slowly back, flashes of her brother, images of her abusive father, pictures of her mother, they all came back.

[milkyway]

Chase Parker

"Illy!" Chase yelled, sitting up in his bed. He shook his head for a second, and then ran his hand down his face. He'd had a dream, a dream that that Illiad Blu, his beloved mare, had been freaking out in her stall at Pinewood, becasue it was her first night there. Then she broke down the stall door, injuring herself, but was crazy so she tried to run out the closed doors, where she had a head on collision and died instantly. This dream had occured three times already. Quickly, Chase threw on a a pair of pants over hisd boxers, not bothering to put a shirt on over his bare chest. He slipped on a pair of flip flops and ran out the front door of his trailer, where he started the old rusty engine. It splutered to life and he zoomed out of the park.

Normally he wasn't worried over dreams, but it was his first night at Pinewood and he was always iffy after he had a dream a few times in a row. It didn't take long to pull up to the stable, where he figured no one would be. He slid in and went to Illiad's stall. His dream wasn't true, of course, but she was a little antsy. Her nostrils kept flaring and her head was held high as she paced back and forth through her stall. When Chase slipped into it she came over to him and thrust her head into his hands. He patted her face, then rubbed her all over. But he wasn't completely okay. Why would Illy be so worked up about nothing? He exited and locked her stall, then walked down the aisle when he stepped in something wet. Becasue the stab;e was dark he couldn't exactly see what it was, but he was a little worried so he tried his best to follow it. It took a while but he managed to get to the steps to the loft after following it. Carefully he made his way up, and he saw a few bloody paper towels all around. He was alarmed, and paniced a little, then he loked up. He saw somone sitting on the couch, but he couldn't exactly pin point who it was or where the wound was.

"Hey!" he said, just trying to get the person's attention as he stood by the entranceway. "Are you okay? He walked over a little bit, a worried look played on his features.

[annie]

Startled by a sudden voice the teen looked up, surprised that someone would be here at this hour. It was not unusually for people to show in the places she usually hung out, but at the stable most of the sane people went home long before it grew dark, a few staying past nine. But they normally left not caring to spend more time at the stable, heading home before it got into the late night. Eyes lifted towards the figure who had spoken, standing in the door way she couldn't tell who it was, save it was a male. Using the backs of her hands to wipe the tears from her face, she winced slightly as the bite from the mare brushed against the couch. Holding back another sob she took a deep breath, ragged sounding, she had to take a few more before her breathing came back to normal.

Yea, I'm fucking fine. Ok? So you can piss off and leave me the hell alone.

Despite the anger in her words, they portrayed her weakness. Either from her memories or from the wound, the words lacked the power and hate they normally held. Not even trying to stand she turned her head to the floor hoping who ever it was would take her words and follow them. She didn't want to be around anyone, she didn't want to be close. Maybe fear of her heart breaking, or fear of her actions causing them pain. Whatever it was she just wanted to be alone, just wanted the figure to leave. here i am again, turning everyone i know away, the teen thought, memories wafting back again to her past. She had turned everyone away, forced them all to leave her alone, to look upon the ground when she stared them in the eyes. She made them feel weak, powerless and fearful. But now, she was the one left weak and powerless, fearful and haunted.



ooc// wow that has to be one of the worst posts ever.. sooo sorry :/