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She fell into a nightmare-filled sleep made up of memories, not imagination. Getting ripped away from her mother, watching her mother try to fight for her and get beaten, getting beaten herself because she couldn't yet stand. From the moment she opened her eyes her life had been a horror story. Why did she think good humans could exist? She'd never met one. But she had heard a story once. That someone would save them right before they were killed, taking them to a place of green pastures, clear streams, and happy, painless horses. She was starting to think it was fake. A foal-hood story told by older horses to keep themselves from losing hope. Because when there is no hope, there is nothing. She no longer knew. 2.5 years of beatings was all she knew. Pain. Fear and hunger, was there anything else, she didn't know. But didn't let on that she didn't. She had to act confident, it was the only way to survive.