Running Blind

24. Best Friend Love

UN-edited :/ Sorry. However, I thought you might like this. I just spent like, four hours typing it up.

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{Brie}

The sounds of the barn rolled around me; the soft movements of horses, their calm, sleepy snorts, the swishing of their tails. The smell of horse and the waft of hay filled my senses. I was glad I lived on a ranch, the one place I could feel relaxed and comfortable.I sat in the hay loft and had been there for a good hour or so. I kept trying to tell myself I wasn’t moping, but you can’t lie to yourself for too long. Eventually my guilt got the better of me and I decided to take Ila out for a ride.

Yesterday’s conversation with Callis made me think I should back off a bit, leave him to figure his stuff out. The school announced kids would be required to go back the following day for classes. Most of the major damage from the storm had been taken care of.

I climbed down the ladder that had taken me up to the loft and dragged my feet on the way to the tack room. I took Ila’s halter and lead line before going to her stall. Her saddle went on with ease, but when I brought her bridle to her, she raised her head high in defiance. I reached and reached, but you can only reach so far when you stand at 4’10”.

Knowing I would have that problem, before I had left the house I had made sure to grab a few sugar cubes. I pulled one of those suckers out and Ila was suddenly behaving! I chuckled at my horse’s behavior. I managed to slip on the bridle and feed her two more cubes, her soft lips nibbling my hand, before marching out into the daylight towards the track.

Dad had told me about a race coming up that he would be okay with me racing. Of course I became suspicious immediately, but then Mom had let slip that she had persuaded him into it. We reached the gate and I used the fence to boost myself up onto Ila. We took a warmup lap before I urged my horse into a faster pace, one that kept her focused on the task at hand; I could tell she was distracted by something in the yard.

We ran hard; Ila’s hooves thundering down the makeshift track, and my legs squeezing her barrel, egging her on. I felt excitement rush through my arms and my legs as I gripped the reins tighter. I breathed, in and out, keeping my breath steady so I wouldn’t excite my horse. It was already too late for that though, I felt shivers run down her spine with each stride she took.

I felt her center of gravity shift as she effortlessly rounded a bend without my guidance. How, in the span of a few months, did we train this filly to do that?No idea. All I knew was that I had an insane amount of trust in the animal beneath me, like the amount of trust I had in Stew.

At the mere thought of Stew a foggy memory came to my mind of learning that my horse was dead. My chest contracted with emotion and I pulled back on the reins. Even as Ila was slowing down, I dismounted, lost my footing, and fell, rolling in the cool dirt. I felt the grime spread across my face and arms as I landed on my back, heaving great sighs. Stew. How could I replace him? He had been my rock, my post, my soul. He had been my diary, my best friend. I told him secrets and cried into his shoulder.

How could I betray him and find a new horse to replace him? I felt something rise up within me, starting in my stomach and knotting up like a wad of yarn as it traveled up my chest and into my throat. The shaking from adrenaline turned into trembling of emotion as I lay rigid on the ground. The sob shook me viciously, and scraped it’s way out of my throat.

I rolled over and pulled my knees up to my chest so that I was crouched in the fetal position, trying to breathe properly. I wished desperately that I had the ability to punch myself in the gut for all the cruel things I have done.