A/N: Earlier this year, I bought a book titled "Q&A a day for writers", which basically has one prompt per day. The prompt that inspired this particular drabble was the following:
"Have you ever seen a pair of sneakers with their laces tied, thrown over a telephone wire? Write a backstory for these kicks—how did they get there?"
Sneakers
No one understands me. No one values me. Not my father. Not my brother. They take me for granted, always have. When I was little, I was nothing but a burden to them. When I grew up, I became another pair of hands to help them with the dirty work.
When I was little, I wanted in. When I grew up, I wanted out.
But I didn't want to be kicked out, with nothing more than a bag full of clothes and a pair of sneakers hastily grabbed that were no longer my size. My family abandoned me. It was time for me to leave them behind and move on with my life.
I tied the laces of my old sneakers together, throwing them over a telephone wire with one expert movement.
Sam the hunter was gone. Sam the pre-law student had taken his place.