The farmers daughter

Chapter six

They were taking the baby. My foal. Every time crops go bad, my daddy has to sell one of the foal's, to try to help with the amount in money we had lost. If you don't get the hint, crops were pretty bad this year. Six months, and they have my baby.

I watched mad, no furious, as Reese had the foal by the legs with my daddy, pulling him out of his struggling mother. As soon as the baby was out, I couldn't be angry. A warm presence went over me and I couldn't help but smile. I ran to the left corner stall by the father of the horse and kissed him on the nose.

"Your a daddy! Can you believe it Micheal ?" I gushed like he could answer me. He let out a huff and shook his head. His blue eyes looked to the baby and my eyes watered as the foal stood there breathing heavily looking up to it's mother. She sat up and licked it's hoof. This could be the last time Jackie Chan has a baby. She's so old she can almost not handle it. She's given birth to many dead foals before.

"Is it a filly or a colt? I asked looking up to my ma'ma."

She helped the baby up and checked.

"It looks like a filly." She said smiling patting Jackie Chan on her back.

"I want to name it." I said walking to it but a hand grabbed my shoulder shoving me back and I looked up confused.

Someone coughed and I looked over to Jason kicking his boots. Looking to his dad who was looking at my daddy.

"Claire. This is there filly now. I think they should name it." He said gruffly.

I was crushed. It was my horse! I got Jackie Chan when I was just three! It's her baby! The last baby she may ever be able to hold!

I narrowed my eyes at my dad.

"Their horse?" I asked balling my hands into a fist. I felt my face heat up and I bit my tongue.

I threw my hair over my shoulder and stomped out of the barn stopping in front of Reese.

"Her name is Nesiah." I said looking deeply into his eyes.

"Nesiah." I repeated looking a Jason, and walked out of the barn to my porch and walked inside to my bedroom.

I looked in the mirror.

My derby shirt was wet from the Nesiah. My cut offs had grass stains and ice cream smears. My hair was wild. It stuck to my sweaty face and was in tangles in the back. Lord. Please help me. I said running a shaky finger through my hair. I laid on the side of my bed a wept.

Everything was wrong. Everything was my fault. I remember the police, the sheriff, news reporters. How would you feel being seven years old, being questioned like you were the killer of the amityvlle horror. I remember coming home late. It was a few hours after Jason had been struck. I had been sitting in the wheat Fields scared shaking. It was so hot outside, but myself was so cold. My dress had dried stiff, and lighting bugs went around me. Mosquitoes buzzed in my ears, sucking my skin. I finally Had decided to get up. I walked slowly. So slow that the night bugs had gone to bed by the time I was half way home. My whole body felt week. By the time I was home my daddy was on the porch sitting on a chair waiting for me. He ran over to be grabbing me by the shoulders.

"Claire! Don't you ever do that to daddy! What's wrong baby? You okay?" He said wiping the forming tears off my face.

I looked up to him, my dirty face dripping with tears. My ratty hair sticking up. My small fingers wrapped around his finger.

He looked at my small fingers and looked a my sad face.

"Wheres Jason Andrews sweetie? Did he do something?" He asked pulling me into his arms.

"He got hurt daddy. He's gone." I whisperd into his shoulder breaking down.

Within a hour the whole scene began. Along with the questioning.

'Where's Jason Claire? He was with you?'

No answer.



'What do you remember Claire?'

No answer.

'You can talk to us baby girl? We just need to help him.'

No answer.

*screaming*

"What did you do to my baby?"

No answer.

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