.If My Heart Keeps Singing.
.Will My Song Go Winging.
.To Someone Who'll Find Me.
.And Bring Back A Love Song To Me.

The girl's bright red, curly hair was pulled back in a messy bun. It would have been impossible to make a neat bun at any time, but especially after all the rain. After rain, her hair was particularly unmanagable. But she made do. Now the sun was shining and the birds singing joyfully from their trees, but the girl didn't seem to notice as she trudged across the grounds that had practically become a lake after the several days of rainy weather. She swept unnoticed through all the crowds of people, not a particularly noticable figure. She was really pretty average jane, but she didn't mind. It was to her benefit to be unnoticable most of the time, so she dealt with it accordingly.

Today her attire was a dark pink T-shirt with lighter pink hems that read "Move it or loose it" She hadn't bought it for the saying, obviously, because it was rather dorky, but clothes were just clothes to Sophie. She had never cared much what she looked like as long as it wasn't suggestive to the guys that she was some sort of pervert who'd just lay down like a dog and let them to her to their bed. No no, not at all. But that was pretty much her only requirement. She was always, almost kiddishly covered, and many thought it rediculous, but it got her point across. Not once had she been bothered, and she intended to keep it that way. Why branch out when you knew that something worked? Baggy black cargos covered her legs, and normally she would have been wearing DC's with them, but today, in all the muck, she wore simple, dorky rain boots.

She was free of the crowds now, her slim, hunched figure floating across the muck and mud. She was really a graceful mover, and it surprised many. She was also a pretty thing with porcelain hued, almost too pale skin, surprisingly free of freckles, bright red lips, and huge, green, doe-like eyes, the kind that could wrap a guy arond your finger in a matter of seconds if you batted them just so. She'd never tried. Never found a reason. Never wanted to. And so her weapon remained untouched through her last 13 years. Many thought it was a lack of hormones, but it wasn't so. She just wasn't drawn to guys. Well, people in general. Perhaps she would have been if she didn't have such a haunting fear of them. Any guy could have thrown her around easilly, like a doll, her form was so slim, and do I really need tell you when you can assume for yourself that men had thrown her around like a rag doll, that they had had their way with her on a couple occassions. She was too much a fighter, and it was quickly deemed not pleasant enough to be worth while, but still. The streets were a nasty place to be, and the government had gotten there too late to save her from half the horrors she saw.

And so now she is stuck with haunting memories and a lack of people skills and human contact. Many think that she doesn't like people. It's not that. She's scared of people, and she wants friends. But she is definately not one to give too much too soon. You'd have to work hard to earn her trust. But with that in mind, may I also mention that it wouldn't be impossible to get her to talk, to trust you, if you played your cards right. That isn't to say she's stupid. She can see just about every motive. She would know if someone was trying to befriend her just to stab her in the back again. Many would say she's psychic, but that is definately not so. Motives are something she learned to keep herself safe. A motive deemed whether a person was, and is, to be trusted or not, and she learned to read them quite well. So don't take her as a defensless porcelain figure, because she's far from it. She's got a shell harder than you'd picture, but inside the masks, she's soft and scared of just about everything...

Her head jerked as she heard someone speak to her. She hated people. Feared them. And worst of all, it was a guy! The gender that could toss her around like a rag doll. Her back was quickly turned to the boy, her cheeks flaming red, and her pace quickened to a jog as she disappeared into the tangled brush that was the vineyard.

Her short form was soon lost amung all the vines, and she herself had soon lost all sense of direction. That was ok. The vine yard wasn't so huge. When she was ready to leave, she could head in any direction and hit the edge in a matter of moments. She hadn't been going that fast after all, hadn't gone very far. That meant there was a lot of distance in another direction, but she was obviously not concerned as she wandered easilly amung the tangled vines.

((OOC: Sorry. That was crappy...))

Oh look. The boy. As long as she didn't turn, she'd know which way to go back out. So she sucked in a silent breath and held it, the vines crackling quietly around her as she slipped deeper into the vineyard.

She heaved a sigh as she found a relatively dry spot and slowly opened the book she was reading, sinking onto the ground, glancing up, wondering if he was following her and rather hoping not because here there wasn't anyone to see or help her.

((OOC: Ugh. You're still doing better than me..XD))

She sucked in a breath, and suddenly sneezed. Dang. So she was there. She had totally given away her hiding spot. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she just didn't like giving people a chance, because they might stab her in the back again.

She heaved a sigh, waiting for him to come track her down. She had read enough to know that it was rather romantic. The damsel in distress running, the prince in shining armour running after her, calling "Wait, come back!" But he's probably a looser wrapped in tinfoil.. she thought to herself.

((OOC: Don't worry, mine either.))

The redhead made no reply. Did she ever make a reply? No. Not really. Satisfied that he had left, she let out the breath she'd been holding and drew in several more deep breaths, wondering what she'd been thinking when she nearly suffocated herself. She gazed about the vineyard, shifting her position so she was facing the way she had last heard the boy come from, and that was that. The book was flipped open onto her knees, and she was soon deep within its pages, rather liking the feeling out here. The old, dusty vineyard went well with the book, although the cold breeze that ocassionaly ran through the vines was a little unnerving. Still, Sophie wasn't one to be unnerved.

She shook her head as she came back into reality, not at all thinking about the book. Rather, it was if maybe she should have given the boy a chance. She battled with herself. He LOOKED nice enough! her ra ther more sensible side cried. EVERYONE looks nice enough! The other half, the half more damaged by the life on the streets screamed. She closed her eyes. She got these arguements often. One half fighting with the other, both screaming at her to do the other thing and leaving her sick with indesicion. Ashamed of herself, she felt hot tears boil behind her eyes, and her knees were pulled up, her arms wrapped around them, the book lay forgotten next to her, and her forehead rested on the tops of her knees, hiding her face. She drew in breath, and then she lost it. Suddenly tears she couldn't control swept down her face from over-bright green, eyes. Silently, she wept. For nothing.