So wow, long time no talk right? It's been way, way, way to long for my liking but life got hectic and I sort of had to pause my writing. But I am back - hopefully - and I intend on keeping Belvedere going. As you can probably tell, I'm re-writing it, hence the new prologue. I just felt like it needed more than what I wrote. So I hope you enjoy the re-written version because I'm not going to lie. It hurt me to write, hahaha.
But once again, I hope you enjoy the prologue!
Leave a vote or a comment maybe as well? It makes me incredibly happy and I love feedback.
That's all I could remember. Those four emotions were all that ran through me as I lay in crisp white sheets, starring up at the white washed ceiling. No one preps you for the unthinkable happening in this sport. No one mentions what you'll go through when you lose your team mate. You're instructed and prepped on every little detail in this sport, your hand position, your leg position, your thought process on your approach, everything down to a slight heel position is criticized and talked about. But not this. No one talks about it. No one sits you down and tells you exactly what will happen to you when you mess up even the smallest amount and end up taking a life from this world. A life that's so incredibly important to you that it feels like you've lost a limp. But then again, there is no way to prep someone for something like this because people handle situations differently. No one person is the same, no one person has the same reaction.But, I fundamentally lost a limb. Jensen was a part of me. Just as much as one of my legs or arms is a part of me because without him, I wouldn't be able to do what I was born and love to do. I wouldn't be able to be a Show Jumper. I knew the risks when I first started in this sport, nothing usually ever turned exactly how you plan because the whole sport is based around an animal that had its own brain, it's own thought process, it's own feelings. It was a sport based on forever changing and unpredictable variables; and one little miss calculation of a distance and that was it. That's all it took. A one stride difference between two seamlessly easy verticals and all the hard training would go down the drain and put Jensen, who was so important to me in the ground. I'd had spent months, no, years working with him; and now. He was gone. He was really gone and it was entirely my fault. If I had just made him wait that extra stride instead of pushing him. I wouldn't be lying in this white washed room, hot tears rolling down my cheeks and he wouldn't be dead. My parents said it was the only thing they could do for him. That it was the only humane thing to do for him. It wouldn't be fair to keep him alive for my own benefit, most horses that fractured their leg never had their full quality of life back after it was mended. There were the lucky ones but Jensen wasn't one of them. I wasn't even there with him when he was euthanize. I didn't get to say goodbye and tell him how sorry I was that I let this happen to him, that I was the cause of this happening to him. All I could think about was, what if I had done it differently? What if I had decided to wait for the distance to come to me instead of pushing for it. Because maybe then I would still get to see his face popping over the top of the stable door as I walked down the barn aisle in the morning. Maybe then I would be able to tack him up. Maybe then I would be able to turn him out into the paddock and watch him become a young colt all over again. But they were all maybes; ifs and buts that weren't going to bring him back. Nothing was going to bring him back. Nothing. Jensen was gone and he was never coming back. All I was left with was an empty stall, useless saddles and bridles and memories. But every time I think about his face, those kind, trusting eyes. I wouldn't remember all the amazing memories we had together, all the victories and quiet times spent with him. I would only remember this round, all those years with him and all I would remember was the one that I wanted nothing more than to put out of my mind forever.
"Natalie?" My mother's soft voice sounded beside me, snapping me out of the reverie I had placed myself under,
"Did you hear what I just said honey?" She spoke again, her soft hands slipping into my own, but not wanting any comfort or any sympathy, I jerked it abruptly away from her and rested it against my lower stomach. My whole body ached, but I tried to ignore it the best I could, it was nothing compared to what was going on inside of me and what had happened to Jensen. I stayed silent, letting my eyes move across the ceiling, not wanting to meet the sympathetic and heartbroken brown orbs of both my parents eyes that sat beside me. I can just imagine their faces, my father's usually hard lined features and wind beaten skin softened with sadness as he looked at his only daughter, and my mother's. Her usual small smile that she seemed to wear every day swapped with a slight frown that I knew didn't suit her.
"I heard you..." I final said, my voice cracking min-sentence against my will,after a moment of complete and utter silence, the only thing disturbing it was the rhythmic heart rate monitor, "Jensen's dead and it's my fault. I get it. You don't have to repeat it." I finished, letting me teeth clench tightly together as I finally, let my head slip to the side, my brown eyes meeting with my mother's.
"Oh Natalie, it's not.." My Mother started before I cut her off with a violent shake of my head,
"Don't. Don't try and reassure me that this isn't my fault because it is. Everyone knows it, you're just too motherly and loving to admit it." I said, my voice coming out stronger and harsher than I intentionally meant it too be.
"Can you both leave. I'm sure the doctors have things they need from you and I want to be alone." I said, my voice slipping back into it's usually softer demeanor and my eyes fall back up upon the ceiling.
"I said leave." I stated again, letting my fingers mesh roughly into the waffled fabric of the blanket that was tightly tucked around me. I could feel the new way of hot tears prickling my eyes and as much as I loved both of my parents and I knew that they were just trying to help me through this new, I needed to be alone. I deserved to be alone and as they both reluctantly moved from the two seats and out the door of my hospital room, I was. I was completely and utterly alone with my thoughts and that's when I finally let the tears I had been holding back as strongly as I could, stream down my slightly flushed red cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
“Maybe. It was all maybes, ifs and buts; nothing was going to bring him back. Nothing. Jenson is gone and he is never coming back. “ Natalie Reynolds. At the young age of 17, was a rising star in the equestrian world. Everything was going to plan be...