{ storybrooke }

00. { welcome in storybrooke }

They all look alike, she thinks.

Her hazel eyes glance at the trees surrounding her while her mind wanders. She had no idea where she was or how long she was there for. It felt like months, almost, though the rational side of her mind says it couldn't have been more than a few days.

She drags herself forward, her feet shuffling over the ground. Her once white socks were now a dirty brown. Her clothing too was dirty and in some places ripped from getting stuck in branches. Once she fell over the root of a tree and hurt her knees. But she couldn't give up. If she stopped somewhere for too long, she might risk getting caught.

A while ago, she wasn't exactly sure how long, she had ran away from her foster parents and she was still on the run now.

The girl didn't think highly of them, though they had perfectly mastered a mask of kindness and innocence to the outside world. After all, she was a problem child and they were the perfect suburbian family.

However, behind the scenes, they treated her differently from their biological children and only had her to earn more money.

Sometimes she could spend weeks on in their moldy, damp cellar. She often had the scraps of what they had and the worn-off and discarded clothes of their daughter, a snobby and spoiled girl named Sabrina. While she and her brother Robert went to school, she was in their home trying to teach herself, and when they tried to bully her she had to endure it, according to their parents. "You are just overreacting," they told her. 

She had stayed in this home for four months now, but for as long as she could remember she was a foster child. At some addresses she would spend years, at others just a mere few weeks. As the foster parents had often said to the Child Protective Services worker, it was just 'always something' with her.

And she had the growing feeling that they were true.

Whenever she was in someone's care and it seemed to be good home, whenever she began to feel loved inside a family, a terrible accident happened. Houses burning down, going bankrupt, growing addictions.. one time someone even drowned. 

Moments like that made her feel like she was cursed. Cursed to never be happy somewhere. To never have a happy ending.

But that couldn't be true, right?

Then the stories that she was told, those fairytales and folklore stories, could never come true. If she started to give up she would tumble down a rabbit hole that was impossible to escape. 

The girl saunters forwards through the thick woods. She was completely clueless as to where she was going, but as long as she was moving forward she was going somewhere, isn't it?

For what feels like many more hours she walks. But then she encounters a pair of high bushes. Like a curtain she pushes them out of her way and they reveal something spectacular.

She comes across an absolutely beautiful sight of nature. A great river, swirling between the trees, separating the forest into two parts. And, not far away from her, was a bridge.

A feeling of hope begins to nestle itself into her heart, making her grow warm from inside. A bridge meant a road or path. A path or road means that is was going somewhere. 

The girl pushes herself to walk faster than the snail's pace of before. She climbs up the small hill to the road and begins to follow it. Not long after, she reaches a town sign.

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄

Storybrooke? Her small eyebrows curve into a frown. She had never heard of a place like this before. It sounds like it comes straight out of a fairytale. But, she was not familiar with Maine. It could be her next destination.

The girl drags herself to pass the sign. A strange feeling rushes through her body when she passes the town sign, but she shakes the feeling off.

However, the exhaustion, lack of food and dehydration was finally catching up with her. The girl collapses onto her painful knees and releases a deep sigh.

She was so caught up with herself that she hadn't noticed someone sneaking up on her.

"I haven't seen you around town before. Who might you be?"

A voice echoes through the quiet road. The girl stares up and sees a man emerging from between the bushes and the shadow of the late afternoon. 

"I-I am sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," the girl responds with a tremble to her voice. She lowers her head, feeling fearful of the stranger. The man walks closer to her and she could study his features better beneath her eyelashes without raising her head too much.

He was many years older than her, his dark hair layered with grey streaks that reach his shoulders. The man was dressed in a suit and leans heavily on his wooden cane with golden handle with every step he takes. "I do not need to know what you meant, I only asked who you are." The man's tone was cold and harsh. The young girl gulps in fright of this man.

A few steps more and he stands in front of her, his posture domineering over hers. "Aren't you going to answer me, dearie?" She glances up this time, her hazel eyes resembling those of a doe as they widen with fear.

"My name is Winter, sir. Winter Black." The man's eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion. Did what she say upset him?

"How old did you say you were, child?" The fear she was experiencing earlier on was slowly fading. It didn't seem like this man was attempting to hurt her. He was just curious and maybe a bit direct.

An odd feeling begins to fill her, telling her she can trust this man.

"I am twelve, sir."

The unreadable emotion was there again for just a split second, but Winter saw it there. "Are you here on your own?" She nods slowly in response. "Yes. I.. ran away."

The man stretches his hand out to her. "Come with me, then. You can get some fresh clothes, take a bath, have something to eat.. you seem too exhausted to continue your way, wherever that may be. Then, by tomorrow, we will see what to do next."

Winter takes his hand and stands up. The stranger lays an arm gently around her shoulders, providing her with warmth. As he leads her to Storybrooke, there was one thing that Winter wanted to know first.

"What is your name, sir?"

The corner of the man's lip lifts up. He keeps his eyes on the road ahead of them as he answers her question. "My name is Mr. Gold, dearie. It is all you need to know for now."