I was lying awake on my bed, browsing a website of a nearby stable, Bright Fields. I started taking riding lessons a few months ago, and just about a month ago found a wild horse in the woods. The horse was a mare, a Czech Warmblood. A horse meant for showjumping. Eventually I got her to trust me, and had ridden her many times by now, but no jumping. She has a body white as snow, and her mane and tail are ebony black. I adopted her and named her Winter.
Suddenly I hear a lot of racket being made. I run downstairs, just as my dad, a police officer, grabs his gun and yells at me to stop.
I make it to where two guys are at, trying to take Winter, who is temporarily stored in the garage. Just as I reach her, she rears up, and I fall to the ground as my dad shouts "Lils!"
A shot rings out, and there I see it. He's lying there on the floor, blood pouring out of his chest. A perfect shot, seemingly in the heart. I numbly look over when I hear crying. My mom had arrived and had the British police on the phone.
The men are still here. Thump. My mom keels over unconscious. I see the gun being aimed at me after knocking her out. Winter rears up again, and powerfully kicks the guy, who screams bloody.
The other guy reaches as I climb onto Winter. It was very lucky I had forgotten to take her saddle off her when I rode before bed.
I look down, still numb, as I scream tortuously. There was a shallow cut running up my lower left leg, but still deep enough to cause me immense pain as blood pours out soaking my jeans.
My scream causes Winter to buck and kick open the unstable garage door, and I hold on tight.
I slip in and out of consciousness, one thought on my mind.
"They're going to kill me."