|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Sept 28, 2008 16:50:39 GMT -5
She knew the worked sucked, and she doubted that he even liked it. Not many people enjoyed mucking out stalls. It was just one of those things that had to be done. Otherwise, the horse would end up getting sick. He could possibly even die if he lived in his own feces long enough. She looked up to Anthony and stopped for a few minutes. "Once a day. It really depends on how much time the horse spends out in the pasture each day." She said as she went back to shoveling out the shit. Once he was finished he went with the wheel barrow to dump the manure in with the rest. She took the deodorizer and started to sprinkle it over the floor. She picked up a rake and started to spread it out in thought.
It hat been a while since she'd stepped foot into a stable. It was amazing she hadn't forgotten everything she ever knew about taking care of horses. At first she'd missed it but didn't want to set foot in another stable. It hurt too much to remember what she had been. What her mother had been to her. All she had to do was step into the trophy room at home and there was no only her legacy, but her mother's legacy in horse shows. She didn't want to remember that. It just... it hurt too much. She stopped and looked out the top of the stall door that led to the stable courtyard in thought. The trees were starting to turn all manners of colors. Spring and Autumn always fascinated her. There was always a variety of colors. They were the best season's to paint and they were her favorite because it was never too cold and never too hot. It was always just right.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Sept 28, 2008 20:48:49 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* He dumped the load and set it down, looking up at the stable once more before leaving. It wasn’t like he had better things to do; he just didn’t want to do that right now. He was not in the mood to clean and do whatever else she had the mind to do. He didn’t want to do it and he wouldn’t do it since he didn’t want too. Sure, call him a lazy piece of shut but he was entirely and didn’t care. He was forced to be here and he was going to pout about it. He was going to sit out his days here and wait until it was over. He was going to do what he wanted and that did not involve cleaning right now. He was sore and he was feeling lazy. That was the end of everything and he decided that he was going off to find something to eat. He ran off past the stable and snuck back into the building, lurking through the halls.
He ate, and changed his clothes. Washed his hair and cleaned his body. Not in that order of course, but he felt better. He swallowed down a few pain pills and changed the bandage on his hand after getting out of the shower. He walked outside with an apple, his sweats and a sleeveless wife beater covering his body. The clothes were loose on him and comfortable. His hair was stringy and still wet but he didn’t mind it. His light bit of make up was mostly washed off, but it was still smeared slightly, making his odd paleness show a little bit more, but he didn’t mind. It was dark out. He had some slip on sandals and his red socks showed at his toes where the sweats weren’t covering. He pulled at the bottom, wrapping it over his heel and walked quietly, cutting chunks off the apple as he walked. He stuck the knife in the apple and pulled the cigarette from his lips, the glowing embers at the end of the stick were all that was seen in the darkness. He couldn’t really even see his fingernails in the lack of light this evening. He could see the basic shape, but that was all. He exhaled the smoke, watching the thin grey cloud rise. He dropped the butt to the ground and dug it into the dirt, seeing the orange fade as he cut into his apple again, eating a small chunk. He was getting full after only half the apple and wondered if he could find Bruce again.
He walked into the stable and looked around at the name plates. He found Bruce and whispered softly to the horse, cutting the apple for him, carefully feeding him chunks which he took in happily. He looked clean and the stall was clean. There was food, but his water was gone. He set the apple just outside the bars and opened the door a bit, carefully slipping through a small crack and pulled the bucket out. He went and filled it with water again and when he returned the apple was gone and the knife remained. He watched Bruce eat it through the door and smirked a little, returning the bucket to the hook from which it hung on the wall. He carefully approached the creature and touched his nose gently, saying good night.
He climbed up, putting his foot on the door and hoisting himself up to the storage area above the stalls. He didn’t have a place to sleep tonight, having seen the staff waiting for him to return. So he was here again. He brushed the straw or whatever away from him and sneezed softly, but he caught it with a rag pulled from his waist and stretched out carefully, glad that his soft sneeze had not disturbed any of the creatures, most of which who were sleeping and Bruce who had his head cocked, looking up at Anthony. He moved back away from the edge and soon enough Bruce moved away and stopped watching. Anthony looked around for a second, ready to sleep when he saw someone else sitting up here. He shifted quickly, watching the figure carefully.
•• words 706 •• mood tired, friendly, shocked. •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Sept 28, 2008 21:21:35 GMT -5
Adrienne had realized that he'd left her. She just shrugged it off though even though it kind of made her mad. Bruce managed to cheer her up though after she'd finished the stall and went to give him a bath. He was a very affectionate horse, and she liked that. Once she had Bruce spick and span, clean hooves and a beautifully glossy chestnut coat, she went and spent a little more time with Calliope and put her to pasture while Adrienne cleaned out the mare's stall and fed and watered her for the night.
She found comfort in the mare before she left her for the night. "No one but you understand." She murmured to the mare in thought as she gently stroked her neck. She brushed a soft kiss over the mare's nose before she left her for the night. She murmured a goodbye and got a soft whicker in return before she shut the door and latched it shut. She looked out a window towards the cabins in thought. She didn't want to go back over there. She just wanted to be by herself for a while. So instead she collected her stuff and found a flashlight and went in search of the loft. She found the ladder and slowly climbed up to the loft and found a small light she could use instead of the flashlight.
She watched the sunset from a large window that opened to look out over the stable courtyards. She pulled out her drawing materials and her iPod and plugged her ear buds into her ears. She then bent over the drawing pad and just drew away. She'd glance up at the sunset every few minutes as the picture started to take shape. It was a dream she'd had last night. It was her on top of Calliope. She was riding bareback splashing through a small creek in the middle of a forest, and she was actually truly smiling while the two of them were splashing water up around them. She hadn't smiled like that in a long time. She actually kind of missed it. She just set the drawing down next to her as she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees as she watched the sunset transition into a sparkling night sky.
She didn't know what it was that she sensed, but she turned around and gasped, nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of somebody else up there. She put a hand to her heart and took a deep calming breath before she turned off her ipod and looked up at the new comer. It was Anthony. She was a little surprised by that. Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at him. "Trouble getting to sleep?" She asked gently as she relaxed a little
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Sept 30, 2008 5:38:53 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* After studying the figure quietly he’d come to the conclusion that it was the girl he’d runaway from earlier; Adrienne. It seemed as though he’d surprised her, caught her off guard, by the way she reacted to having him up here. He wasn’t going to leave, though, no matter how terribly scared she’d been. Her hand flew to cover her heart and he just laid there silently until he was spoken too. Her question stirred a small laugh from him and he nodded in confirmation. He only laughed because in this place, it has seemed to be a regular thing where he and sleep do not get along. “It is just that, I haven’t been able to sleep well since I arrived here...” he said, sighing unhappily as he stretched his arms out and folded them under his head to act as a small, slightly comfortable pillow as his black eyes turned to gave over in her direction to see what it was that she might be doing up here.
He could see the small light she brought with her, but as for what else she was doing he could not tell and he decided to ask before letting his mind wander the possibilities. “What has kept you up here? I figured I was the only one who avoided my cabin and came here for the nights...” he questioned calmly, adding in a comment of his own as he laid there in the darkness, having a bit of distance between himself and her. He didn’t really care to be any closer because from where he was right now he could hear her just fine and he didn’t want to know how she felt due to his abandoning her earlier. The thought had circled around his mind a few times during the time away, but it was nothing he’d loose sleep over since he probably wouldn’t sleep very well this evening anyway.
He pulled at the hem of his wifebeater, finding it to be choking him as he laid there oddly. He shifted himself and laid on his back for a moment, keeping his shirt on, but stretching it out a little bit so it wasn’t so clingy. He only wore it to keep the cold away from his body as he laid up here in the loft. He got cold very, very easily and besides, he didn’t want be stripping right here. He didn’t need the same reaction twice in one day of having someone see him without a shirt.
•• words 420 •• mood tired, quiet •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Sept 30, 2008 6:30:16 GMT -5
She could understand that. She had trouble sleeping the first two or three days here, but she was starting to grow accustom to a sleeping habit. She watched him in the dim light before she looked back out the window. She wasn't sleeping as well as she would have liked now, but at least she was getting some sleep. She usually snuck in after her cabin mates were asleep. She looked up to him and contemplated for a moment. "I just... had to find a place to sit and think for a while. Didn't really want to go back to my cabin." She said softly looking back to Him for a moment.
She rubbed her arms, which were covered by her hoodie sleeves. She kept the scars hidden. She had a horrible habit of abusing her body, and it was mostly the reason she was here. She looked to the sky in thought as she watched the stars start to sparkle to life. She remembered when her mother and her used to sit up in the loft and point out all the constellations. She was in a brooding mood. She usually liked to keep to herself when she was brooding. She couldn't seem to find a good spot for that though, and she didn't blame Anthony.
The soft nicker of one of the horses sent her momentarily into the past. It used to be that this was the only place you could ever find her. In the stables around the horses, but after her and her mother's accident, she'd changed. She wasn't the sweet bubbly social butterfly she used to be. She liked to keep to herself. It had worried her father and her brother, so she could really only blame herself for this. She just couldn't see why her father couldn't see that she didn't want to be here though? Of all the places in the world, it had to be here, where she was constantly reminded of her mother. She sighed and leaned down against her knees wrapping her arms under her arched legs as she looked out the window up to the stars. "Reach for the stars. Adrienne. No matter what." She could almost hear her mother saying that instead of her saying it in her head.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Sept 30, 2008 15:37:06 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* “Well, I can leave you too your thoughts again if you like. Sure, you won’t be alone as I don’t have a better place to crash tonight, but I can stop talking.” Chances were better than good that if he stopped talking he’d drift off to sleep up here, which was the entire goal of coming up here. He had not ‘safe’ place to sleep tonight so it was up in the lofts for the evening and until the morning when he could return to his cabin. Sometimes he really hated himself for getting in trouble so often but he magnetized himself to it. He was always doing things that he knew he probably shouldn’t be doing and did them anyway. He couldn’t help himself. Sometimes he wondered if there was a name for always getting yourself in trouble. He knew that a kleptomaniac was one who had a compulsive habit of taking things and that there was surely some kind of ‘disorder’ for people who just refused to follow the rules, but was there something for always seeking trouble? He wasn’t sure.
He distracted himself from his rambling thoughts as he got that sudden sensation where it felt as though he were falling. He didn’t know if it was just him or if everyone suddenly got that feeling. He’d been laying there, obviously far away from the edge and at random he felt like he was going to just fall off. His hard was pounding and everything. He didn’t know what caused such a random and realistic hallucination but it was annoying and it just rushed him into feeling uncomfortable. He shifted, moving himself further away from the edge just as a precaution and looked back over to Adrienne wonderingly. He’d gladly try and get sleep but he could almost say that he liked talking to her. She was interesting, aside from now when she seemed more withdrawn and quiet than he was. However, that didn’t matter. He just rested his chin against his folded arms again and watched her in silence as he waited for her answer as to whether he should just leave her be or if he could continue to speak with her and be company.
He looked away as one of the horses made a soft noise again. He didn’t remember what she’d called that, but he looked around, trying to find the one who did it. After a minute or two he ceased the hunt for the slightly noisy creature. He didn’t know what one it was that made the noise and he supposed he really didn’t care. It hadn’t bothered him, so long as they all stay quiet. If they started getting noisy then he was going to throw something at them...
•• words 459 •• mood not tired, curious •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Sept 30, 2008 17:24:28 GMT -5
"Reach for the stars." She heard her mother that time. She tensed for a moment then looked up to the sparkling stars, just watching through those violet pools. She looked to Anthony for a moment and laid her head down on her knees watching him for a moment. Did she want a little company? It wasn't so much that she didn't want company. It was just that she wanted the right kind of company. The question was, was Anthony the company she wanted?
She looked out the window to the rolling pastures that were now empty. All the pretty horses were put away for the night. She could remember how she used to play with nothing but toy horses. She had the biggest Grand Champion horse Collection on the face of the planet. No Barbie and Ken for her. Unless Barbie came with a horse, there was no way she would touch them. She looked down at her dainty little feet for a moment. She'd slipped off her boots earlier so she could relax a little more, but she was going to have to put her socks back on pretty soon. She was getting kind of cold. "Anthony," She murmured as she looked to him and laid her head down on her knees again, "have you ever tried and reached to the stars, and just when you think you're about to touch one... you fall or something happens to make you fall?" She asked softly looking to him.
She had no clue where that came from. She tried asking herself that now, but she just didn't know. Maybe it was because that's how she felt at this moment in time. She felt as if she'd tried to reach, and then she fell, and she couldn't reach them again.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Oct 11, 2008 13:14:07 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* “Reaching for the stars? Do you mean like... trying to reach something in life? Or literally reaching for the stars?” he questioned lightly, being a little confused as how to answer her question, but he didn’t really expect an answer because he was thinking now so if she did answer him it wouldn’t mean much. He couldn’t say that he’d ever actually felt like he could touch a star... Well, there was this one time when he was high that he felt like he’d be able to jump off the roof and go soaring into the sky... but he was sure that was not what she was asking about. He was sure that there was some deeper kind of meaning, because not everyone was into the kind of drugs he’d done. For some reason she didn’t really strike him as an addict, she looked too healthy to be an addict so the deeper meaning of her question made him think that she was leaning more toward something in life... maybe like, reaching toward a goal, but losing your feet from underneath you... Honestly, he’s never had a really huge goal. Finding his real mom and dad sure, but he didn’t want to ruin there life with the shit that he’s turned into; a half gay, drug addict, angry little teenager that refuses to listen to authority and tries to make his life a living hell.
“If I’m thinking right, I can’t say that I have. Drugs, shit loads of drugs, have ruined my life, and every day I crave them more and more. Other than ‘feeling’ like I could touch the stars, I don’t think I have...” he admitted quietly. He knew better than to not mention his drugs, he knew damn well she knew he was an addict, and he thought that his answer should be a little on the honest side since she seemed a little, uneasy, almost? He didn’t know what had stirred her mind to ask him, him of all people, such a question. He certainly didn’t look like a dreamer and he couldn’t honestly say he had a lot of dreams that he wanted to put effort into. He didn’t want to go back to school, but he did want a job to make money, he wanted more drugs, but he knew they were bad, and he wanted to find his family. The family that would love and care for him no matter who he was and how he acted. He wanted someone that would love him, not claim rape and ship him off to some place that was everything he despised with every fiber of his being.
He looked back over to her, speaking softly, watching her from where he was stretched out, “What makes you ask? Especially someone like me?” Hoenstly, he thought it might just be that he was the only person around for her to talk to. He didn’t think there was anything else behind such a question. He couldn’t be sure though, that was probably pretty reasonable logic.
•• words 508 •• mood quiet, curious •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Oct 11, 2008 14:06:24 GMT -5
Adrienne looked out over the courtyard in thought. How to answer him. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going with that question. She licked her lips trying to think of the answer to his question. It was kind of a bit of both really. She knew she felt like that all the time. The only difference was that her mother wasn't there to encourage her to stand up and try again. She was about to answer him when, he answered anyways. Her head tilted softly.
She would never fully understand why somebody would want to do that with drugs. Obviously they knew, at least subconsciously if not consciously, that it ruined their lives. "If you know it ruins your life... then why did you continue to use it?" She asked softly looking at him through soft violet pools. She wanted to understand. She didn't, but she wanted to. That was something about Adrienne that had never left her, even after the accident. She liked to understand. Understanding meant you could judge without any bias really.
She frowned at his question and looked out the window. She slowly crossed her legs indian style and leaned back on her hands looking up at the sky. "I'm not entirely sure myself." She said gently as she flicked her head, flicking hair out of her face. She blew a wispy strand of hair out of her face and looked back to Anthony. She looked away though and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Oct 11, 2008 15:34:05 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* “I hate to give you such a common answer, but it runs my life... I can’t stop using... it drives me insane. I’m so used to having it that I can hardly eat more than one small thing, I can’t sleep without it, I can’t think without it. Everything is so hard and so frustrating... It was my escape.” he murmured quietly. That was not going to make any sense to someone who didn’t realize how good the drugs made him feel. He felt relaxed, he felt strong, he’d never been afraid of anything. He never had to worry about eating, or lack of energy. Sure it was a little pricey to get the better stuff, but the better quality the better the high and the more at ease he felt. It was like he’d reached his peace. He didn’t have to worry anymore, and that was a nice feeling. However, when it was taken away from him, he got violent. “It’s harder than most people think, to quit something you’ve done for too long. It’s like...” Anthony sighed a little bit, trying to think of an example for what he wanted to say. He could only come up with completely weird examples but he thought of something semi-normal. “It’s like getting braces. It’s a long, drawn out process that uses a lot of money, and sometimes... it doesn’t even work. That’s rehab for ya. This is the first actual rehabilitation place I’ve been, but my foster father tried multiple things and I had my jaw wired shut for a year and that was about the equivalent. I still used when I got it off, if not more than I had before. It’s like... a way of life.” he shook his head, and when she looked up toward the window he was glad. He ran his hands over his body, feeling each of his ribs and his hips. He could feel a few of the vertebrae in the small of his back and his shoulder blades weren’t hidden. He was a bag of bones, pretty literally. He pulled his hands away from himself, clenching them into tight fists as to stop touching himself when she looked back.
He smirked a little bit as she said she didn’t really know why she would ask him. He supposed that her answer could have been worse, or could have been odd but it hadn’t been either thing so he guessed it was alright, just a random wonder that needed to be vocalized to see if she wasn’t alone when it came to feeling such a thing. However, she kind of was, since he did not think that he’d ever done such a thing. “Well, that’s alright. I was just wondering. It seemed so... not random... just, out of the ordinary. I’m not usually the one people ask deep, mind racking questions too.”
•• words 479 •• mood unsure, curious •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Oct 11, 2008 16:52:47 GMT -5
She looked to him as he talked she could understand that easily. That was the same thing with her, only instead of drugs it was riding. With the exception of not wanting to eat and all that other stuff he said, she knew exactly how it felt. Riding, and show jumping had been her life. That high from the adrenaline in the competitions and the feeling that you could fly when you were just out riding around racing through pastures and woods on trails. Sailing over fallen logs and splashing through creeks and streams. She looked to him when he started to explain how hard it was to stop. "Believe it or not, I know how it feels." She said softly looking towards the stalls at the sound of a soft nicker. When her mother died it had been hard to stay out of the stables. It was the one place where she had friends that could understand her and listen to her as she cried and mourned her mother.
It had been too much of a reminder though. All the pictures and trophies. The ribbons and medals. Eventually, one by one, she'd taken down all the trophies and awards that had been in her room. The only picture she didn't get rid of was the one of her and her mother. The same one she'd brought with her to Willow Brooke. She sat up and then laid down on her stomach facing him as she propped her elbows up and rested her chin in her palms. "I can't see why not. Some of the smartest people in the world were drug abusers." She said calmly smiling softly. "Like Hitler. Sure, he was mentally insane, but that was only because he shot up on meth so much." She said calmly as she looked up at her.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Oct 12, 2008 9:04:32 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* “I didn’t think you’d be able to imagine... It’s such a complicated feeling... I still don’t even feel like I explained it right. People ask me why and there’s so many reasons. There’s so many things that I could, and probably should say, but I just can’t get them all out.” he shook his head, a slightly frustrated look crossing over his hollow face. “People look at me and ask why I would do such a thing and I can’t answer them because of so many reasons. Other than being weak minded, I don’t have an explanation and when I do they still look at me with those horrified eyes.” His words came soft as he explained in a small voice. He didn’t know why he was spilling his thoughts like that but subconsciously he knew that she was the only one who’d not changed the subject and walked away when he took his shirt off without thinking earlier. She’d been the only one that had not glared at him in disgust and asked him ten million questions and stared at him with piercing eyes. She’d approached the subject and backed away when he’d showed his discomfort with the question. So he could reason that it was ok to talk to her, and that term was used very loosely because he didn’t get close to anyone and sharing his feelings was a huge thing. Somehow, in the back of his mind he believed he could trust her, just enough to tell her these things. He quickly shifted his thoughts and dropped his eyes to find where the nicker had come from. He pulled his legs into his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, resting his chin on his knees. He wasn’t cold or anything, just uncomfortable.
He laughed very softly, as she spoke of some of the smartest people being drug users. He wasn’t smart and he knew that. He’d had a learning disability for many years, leaving him very behind on his schooling and it was embarrassing. He felt stupid, and never had he felt smart in his whole life. “I’m not smart...” says in a ‘for sure’ voice, debating on whether or not he should dare mention it, and he decided, hey, why not? He wasn’t stupid because of the drugs. Sure, maybe dulled a little bit while he was off them, but they weren’t what caused his stupidity. “I’ve had a learning disability since I was a little kid... I’m the equivalent to a freshman in high school...” he said very quietly. “Hitler was a genius. He was able to get all those people to believe what he said, purely by his power and the way he spoke to the people, I’m not like that. No one cares what I think. No one has ever cared what I think. It’s all about what they think and how they can manipulate me to get what they want.” He bit his lip as he finished speaking. He diverted his black eyes, not being able to look at her. No one had ever even hinted at the idea that he might be smart, and now the first thing he did was totally stomp it out. He didn’t take compliments well because usually they were sarcastic, or they were coming from people that were paid to say good things...
•• words 559 •• mood doubtful, rejecting •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Oct 12, 2008 10:12:25 GMT -5
She looked down at the hay they laid on and swirled a finger around a small straw of hay. "I don't know what the drugs are like, but I know what it's like to give up something you enjoy." She said softly looking up at him. "Until today... I hadn't stepped foot in a stable in almost a year and a half." She said softly looking down at the straw in thought. A year and a half. By the time the anniversary of her mother's death came around, her father had seen that there was no point. He sold her horse because it was always him taking care of the champion horse. He was off at a riding school, enjoying the attentions of younger riders. Adrienne hadn't wanted him to be sold, but she didn't want to go into that stable. Every small scent, every little piece of tack. Anything in it was a constant reminder of that day. Everything.
She looked back to him and her head tilted. He wasn't stupid. "Yes you are!" She exclaimed softly looking at him. She listened to him and her head tilted softly. She shook her head softly. "And?.. That shouldn't matter. You're smart, just no at the same level as other people. No two people have the same exact IQ. We all have our own unique quirks." She said softly watching him. She thought about Hitler for a moment. He'd been mad with power. There had been a fine line between genius and insanity. He had crossed it. She frowned and shook her head. She was slowly starting to understand. "That's not true. You care to someone. You wouldn't be here if you didn't." She said softly as she thought about why she was here.. at Willow Brooke. Her father wanted the old Adrienne back. He would never have her back. Not fully. A part of her had gone with her mother.
|
|
|
Post by vanlouden on Oct 12, 2008 10:36:09 GMT -5
anthony marke van louden. *{.{ contemplating all the things you've never said }.}* He listened to her quietly, not speaking until he felt she was done with the comments. He nodded a little bit, seeing that it had been a long time since she’d been around or near horses. He supposed that was like drugs, if she was that addicted and had that strong of a love toward them. “You don’t wanna know what drugs are like.” he said with a soft laugh, a half hearted laugh, trying to at least keep the comment light. “That’s a long time to avoid them. What made you decide to actually interact with them? You seemed at ease with your horse today...” He shrugged a little as he spoke, showing that if she didn’t have an answer then he didn’t really mind. He wasn’t the kind of person that really cared if he got an answer for every question that he asked. He didn’t answer some questions so he didn’t expect everyone else to answer every question thrown at them. Some were just wrong and uncomfortable to answer. He wouldn’t make anyone answer anything.
He looked at her, slightly shocked by her exclamation. He didn’t know where she came up with that conclusion, but in response to his explanation she told him that shouldn’t matter and she told him that everyone was unique. He cast his eyes away still as she watched him. He shook his head faintly, disagreeing with her. He was never one to accept compliments; he didn’t believe they were true, ever. He’d gone so long in life without a real compliment that they had all blurred into one big lie and he couldn’t tell the difference between sincerity and lies. “You say you don’t know drugs, and yet you’re saying all this? You must be smoking something...” There was a small hint of playfulness in his words, but it wasn’t enough to show that what he said he thought could be logical. No, he wasn’t saying he thought she was a user, but he thought she was crazy for saying what she’d said with such confidence. He shook his head again, more prominently as she told him that he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t cared for. “That, is false. You can reason as much as you want, but I’m here because of my drug use, assault on my father... and a claim of rape. My foster parents wanted me out of that house and they did all that they could to make sure that was what they got. I won’t object to the violence and abuse, but rape? I didn’t hurt anyone like that. It was a story they used when they caught me with my foster brother. They got me out of the house and that’s just what they wanted. You should have seen that man’s face in court when the judge ruled me here... He was grinning like the cold hard bastard that he is...” Anger backed his words, a lot of anger backed his words, but he sat still. He forced himself to sit still, the whole time. He was not going to get himself worked up, but he’d object any other theory that came toward him when he argued about people caring for him. He didn’t believe such a thing existed for people of his level. He knew those people didn’t love him. Liam had loved him, but those people would not let him love Anthony.
•• words 569 •• mood angered, sure, defiant •• stats done
|
|
|
Post by Adrienne Dionas on Oct 12, 2008 11:16:54 GMT -5
She let out a snort of amusement and laid her arms down, resting her cheek over them. "I have a good idea. Riding....it was like a drug for me." She murmured softly as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked to him after his question then let her gaze drop to right in front of her. "I figured... I'm stuck here. I might as well do something. Like I said earlier. The horses... they listen, and they can't really talk back, but they understand. They comfort when you're upset or hurting, and they do things to try and perk you back up." She said softly looking back up at him. Horses had been her life. Before she had lived and breathed horses, and then her mother had died, and her world forever changed. She couldn't look at the trophies and ribbons and pictures that sat on shelves and hung on her walls anymore. So she packed them all away. Her father carefully wrapped the trophies and plaques in bubble wrap, and all the awards and honors were packed away in their attic.
She looked at him and laughed light when he said she must have been smoking something. "Oh, yes, I have a whole stash hidden away in my cabin. Wanna help me come smoke it all away?" She said sarcastically, but she was trying to be playful. She sighed and laid her head down on her crossed arms and listened. She looked up at him when she heard the anger. She could see it in him, and she felt it in herself. He may have been their adoptive child, but still... She didn't know what to say to his argument so she closed her eyes and bowed her head taking a deep breath for a moment before she looked back up at him. "They may not care about you, but there's someone out there who does." She said softly looking at him through those soft violet eyes.
She never thought in her entire life she would be sitting here in a loft, with a cute guy having such an in depth conversation. He wasn't stupid, and she didn't see how he could think such a thing. She just laid her head down and closed her eyes taking a deep breath and letting out a soft sigh.
|
|