This is my take on what would have happened to Anakin if he wasn't force sensitive, and the Episode I gang never went to Tatooine
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars :(
He likes to tell himself stories. He used to tell them to his friends, but they laughed at his fantasies, so now he only tells himself. They didn't understand because they were free. They didn't understand that the stories gave him hope. They didn't understand that because he was a slave and hope was the only thing he had.
When his mother told him told him of a place where everyone was free, a place called the Republic, and of the Jedi who guard it using their laser swords, he tells himself a story. He tells himself about the little slave boy from Tatooine who became the best Jedi ever. He tells himself about how the little boy came back to Tatooine and freed all the slaves and took them to the Republic where they lived happy lives. And he hopes with all his heart that he could be that little boy because he is a slave and hope is the only thing he has.
When one of his friends told him of a planet called Naboo where there was so much water that they could use it for decoration, he tells himself a story. He tells himself about how after the little boy freed all the slaves, the Jedi were so happy with him that they gave the little boy his own starship. He tells himself of how the little boy went to Naboo and saw all the water there and found that Naboo was the most beautiful planet ever because how could a planet with so much water be anything less than perfect, and maybe the little boy would go and see all the other planets too, but he would never come back to Tatooine because now the whole galaxy was in his reach. And he hopes with all his heart that he could be that little boy because he is a slave and hope is the only thing he has.
When the spacers told him of creatures called angels who were the most beautiful things in the galaxy, he tells himself a story. He tells himself about when the little boy was on Naboo, he met an angel because Naboo was the most beautiful planet and angels were the most beautiful things, so angels must live on Naboo. He tells himself of how the little boy who wasn't little or a boy anymore fell in love with the angel and married her, and they lived a happy life together on Naboo after they had gone to every planet in the galaxy. And he hopes with all his heart that he could be that little boy because he is a slave and hope is the only thing he has.
When his mother was sold to a moisture farmer on the far outskirts of Anchorhead, he tells himself a story. He tells himself about the moisture farmer on Tatooine who bought a slave. He tells himself of how the moisture farmer fell in love with the slave and freed her and married her, and they lived a happy life together. And he hopes with all his heart that his mother was that slave because he is a slave and hope is the only thing he has.
When he hears Watto talk about how the farmer freed and married his mother, he wants to dance, he wants to sing, he wants to jump and scream because his mother was free, and she was going to live a happy life, but he does none of those things because there were customers in the shop, and he is still a slave and hope is still the only thing he has. But for the first time, those words don't sound so hollow to his ears.
When he hears that his mother had been taken by the Sand People, he has no story to tell himself. Instead, he uses his meager collection of slicing tools and all his love, anger, and desperation to break his slave collar. Under the cover of the night, he steals a blaster, a sad beaten thing that the owner probably didn't want anyways, and stows away on a ship to Anchorhead. And all the way there, he hopes with all his heart that his mother was still alive because it would be impossible for her to be dead, and because though he is free of chains, hope is still the only thing he has.
When he treks out to the dunes beyond Anchorhead, looking for the Sand People, he doesn't find them, they find him, and because he is a young man, barely out of boyhood, armed with only a blaster and love, anger, and desperation, he is the one lying facedown in the sand, too tired to move. And as he stares at his blood seeping into the sands of this planet he so despised, he tells himself a story. He tells himself about a beautiful place that all the good people went to when they died, where the angels lived and water fell from the sky. And he hopes with all his heart that this one last story he tells is true because he is soon to be a dead man, and hope is the only thing he has.