by Author
The crowd fell silent as horse and rider made their way to the middle of the arena. After patting the horse's silky, brown, the young rider urged him forward into a trot, then quickly into a canter.
As they approached the first jump, the energy and excitement radiated off of the team in waves, consuming every single person in the audience. The rider blew a strand of brown hair off of her face and smiled. She was in her element. Here was the first jump. Her handsome gelding leaped, and they were flying. She leaned forward, whispering in his ear "thank you."
The first jump was cleared with inches to spare.
The rider urged her teammate into a faster canter, anticipating the next jump. She collected him a stride before and they soared up, again, leaving inches between the beautiful palomino's hooves and the jump. They popped over the third, fourth, and fifth jumps. And then, everything went wrong.
********************************************************
"Clara! Can you please come here and help me!" it was a demand, not a question. I sighed and put away my camera, jogging up the dirt path to where I heard my older brother, Jake's voice.
"I'm coming! Hold on a sec," I shouted back. I clung my backpack over a fence and sprinted the rest of the way up the hill.
"Just hold Tiny for me, will ya?" I shook my head. Tiny was the tallest horse we had here. He was a belgian, and 18-ish hands. I grabbed Tim's lead rope from Jake and stood a healthy 4 feet away from the 36 year old pony.
"Couldn't you have brought Minnie? Or Micky?" I asked him. They were the only horses I felt safe around anymore. They were 2 week old paint twins, named Minnie and Micky for the little markings on their shoulders, shaped like the cartoon characters' heads.
My brother sighed.
"Come on, Clara. The accident was over a year ago and you haven't been on a horse since. The only time you get near them is to take pictures! And even then, its a good thing your camera has good zoom." I stuck my tongue out at him and walked Tim over to the arena. Yeah. Even 14 year olds are immature sometimes.
After teaching three lessons, the one thing involving horses I actually agreed to do, I ran inside to grab the old box of tapes from the back of my closet. The box. What great memories. This old box, decorated with a collage of pictures of me and various horses, held every single horse picture and video I'd ever taken or been in.
I dragged the huge crate out of the back of my closet, pulling down about every single piece of clothing in there, and smiled. After carefully taking off the lid and placing it aside, I braced myself for what I knew I'd see.
There, at the top of the pile, was the video. I carefully unwrapped it and placed it in th old VCR player, sitting at the edge of my bed. The TV filled with static, and then a picture came on the screen. Me, grinning, standing next to Paint the Sky-my wonderful Clydesdale gelding.
********************************************************
"Clara, are you excited?" My mom asked. The 13year old me nodded, grinning.
"I'm riding Paint the Sky," I told the camera.
"He's my clydesdale." I turned and kissed the 17.3hh gelding on the nose.
"I'm really excited!" I exclaimed. "Its my turn soon, mom, you better go sit down," the camera shut off as my mom made her way back to her seat.
After a few moments of silence and a black screen, a new picture came into view. There I was, going to the middle of the arena. There I was, patting Sky's neck. There I was. I could hear myself whisper "Thank you" as we cleared the first jump. I could feel the excitement in the quiet crowd. I could remember the feeling of victory I'd had as I'd neared the 6th and final jump. I remembered it all clearly up until that moment. I watched everything happen. It was all so fast...
*******************************************************
As she neared the final jump, the rider felt one emotion-pride. She'd done great on her horse, and was so proud of him. She gently squeezed his side with her legs, and he obeyed gratefully, slightly speeding up. They were 5 strides away. Now 4. Now 3. Now 2. They were one stride away. They were flying. They were falling. She looked down, and saw the ground coming up much too fast.
She searched her gelding's eyes, the deep brown eyes that had convinced her to buy him as a foal now said "What did I do wrong?" she shook her head, reassuring him, but she knew even then that it was over. As the ground came up, they hit hard, her gelding twisting and writhing on the ground, but finally went limp, breathing hard. She freed her feet from under him and lay down on the arena next to him, willing him to be ok. But she knew it wouldn't work. It wouldn't be ok.
She lifted his heavy, limp head, and placed it in her lap, looking into those big brown eyes.
"I'm sorry," they said, then closed. Forgetting the pain in her smashed leg-and her crushed heart-she again reassured him that it wasn't his fault. She lay her head down on his neck and sobbed, not caring about the crowd that had now gathered around her.
A vet pushed his way to the front of everyone, and frowned, taking in the girl crying, and the horse's tear stained neck, various cuts and bruises, and front legs twisted at odd angles. He knew what needed to be done.
The camera again went black.
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WELL That's the end of chapter one. Please let me know if you want me to keep writing.
Click here to read or post comments
Return to Horse Training Stories.
by Author
The crowd fell silent as horse and rider made their way to the middle of the arena. After patting the horse's silky, brown neck, the young rider urged him forward into a trot, then quickly into a canter.
As they approached the first jump, the energy and excitement radiated off of the team in waves, consuming every single person in the audience. The rider blew a strand of brown hair off of her face and smiled. She was in her element. Here was the first jump. Her handsome gelding leaped, and they were flying. She leaned forward, whispering in his ear "thank you."
The first jump was cleared with inches to spare.
The rider urged her teammate into a faster canter, anticipating the next jump. She collected him a stride before and they soared up, again, leaving inches between the beautifu horse's hooves and the jump. They popped over the third, fourth, and fifth jumps. And then, everything went wrong.
********************************************************
"Ali! Can you please come here and help me!" it was a demand, not a question. I sighed and put away my camera, jogging up the dirt path to where I heard my older brother, Jake's voice.
"I'm coming! Hold on a sec," I shouted back, slinging my backpack over a fence. I turned and sprinted the rest of the way up the hill.
"Just hold Tiny for me, will ya?" I shook my head. Tiny was the tallest horse we had here. He was a belgian, and 18-ish hands. I grabbed Tim's lead rope from Jake and stood a healthy 4 feet away from the 36 year old pony.
"Couldn't you have brought Minnie? Or Micky?" I asked him. They were the only horses I felt safe around anymore. They were 2 week old paint twins, named Minnie and Micky for the little markings on their shoulders, shaped like the cartoon characters' heads.
My brother sighed.
"Come on, Ali. The accident was over a year ago and you haven't been on a horse since. The only time you get near them is to take pictures! And even then, its a good thing your camera has good zoom." I stuck my tongue out at him and walked Tim over to the arena. Yeah. Even 14 year olds are immature sometimes.
After teaching three lessons, the one thing involving horses I actually agreed to do, I ran inside to grab the old box of tapes from the back of my closet. The box. What great memories. This old box, decorated with a collage of pictures of me and various horses, held every single horse picture and video I'd ever taken or been in.
I dragged the huge crate out of the back of my closet, pulling down about every single piece of clothing in there, and smiled. After carefully taking off the lid and placing it aside, I braced myself for what I knew I'd see.
There, at the top of the pile, was the video. I carefully unwrapped it and placed it in the old VCR player, sitting at the edge of my bed. The TV filled with static, and then a picture came on the screen. Me, grinning, standing next to Paint the Sky-my wonderful Clydesdale gelding.
********************************************************
"Ali, are you excited?" My mom asked. The 13year old me nodded, grinning.
"I'm riding Paint the Sky," I told the camera. "He's my clydesdale. He's a thoroughbred, too." I turned and kissed the 17.3hh gelding on the nose.
"I'm really excited!" I exclaimed. "Its my turn soon, mom, you better go sit down," the camera shut off as my mom made her way back to her seat.
After a few moments of silence and a black screen, a new picture came into view. There I was, going to the middle of the arena. There I was, patting Sky's neck. There I was. I could hear myself whisper "Thank you" as we cleared the first jump. I could feel the excitement in the silent crowd. I could remember the feeling of victory I'd had as I'd neared the 6th and final jump. I remembered it all clearly up until that moment. I watched everything happen. It was all so fast...
*******************************************************
As she neared the final jump, the rider felt one emotion-pride. She'd done great on her horse, and was so proud of him. She gently squeezed his side with her legs, and he obeyed gratefully, slightly speeding up. They were 5 strides away. Now 4. Now 3. Now 2. They were one stride away. They were flying... They were falling. She looked down, and saw the ground coming up much too fast.
She searched her gelding's eyes, the deep brown eyes that had convinced her to buy him as a foal now said "What did I do wrong?" she shook her head, reassuring him, but she knew even then that it was over. As the ground came up, they hit hard, her gelding twisting on the ground, then finallybstopped struggling, breathing hard. She freed her feet from under him and lay down on the arena next to him, willing him to be ok. But she knew it wouldn't work. It wouldn't be ok.
She lifted his heavy head and placed it in her lap, looking into those big brown eyes.
"I'm sorry," they said. Forgetting the pain in her smashed leg-and her crushed heart-she again reassured him that it wasn't his fault. She lay her head down on his neck and sobbed, not caring about the crowd that had now gathered around her.
A vet pushed his way to the front of everyone, and frowned, taking in the girl crying, and the horse's tear stained neck, various cuts and bruises, and front legs twisted at odd angles. He knew what needed to be done.
The camera again went black.
Return to Horse Training Stories.
Its that feeling that I hate most of all. That feeling of knowing you have to do something, yet being unable to do anything, even the simplest of tasks. Knowing something can be done, has to be done, but not doing it.
I took a deep, shuddering breath and popped the VCR out of the player, and setting it back in the pile, trying to cover up what was next. But it didn't work. It never did. I had watched the video, the show that would have qualified us for the annual, world wide show in Australia.
I reached under my bed and found the only thing under there. I slowly slid the thin ,black sheets of paper out from their yellow envelope. They looked like nothing, yet they were everything that had gone wrong.
I held the X-rays up to the light in my bedroom and wiped a tear from my eye. You could see the fracture in the hind leg, the two very obvious breaks in the front legs. Everything so horrible, compacted into three clean, neat sheet of paper. Mocking me.
A persistent chirp distracted me from digging further into the pile.
MOLLY: Omg al, I made it! Finished FIRST!
I grinned, quickly replying with
YAY! Wish I coulda been there! 2 bad new york is soooo far!
ik! i'll be home sometime tomorrow. cya soon!
She had made it. My best friend, Molly, had just done the same things I had. Placed in the top 3 at our state fair, placed again in a show a few towns away, placed first in New York, now she would move on to the show in Boston-then to Australia.
I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering the excitement I'd felt, the promise I'd seen in the tiny foal, the happiness.
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"Al, dinner!"
I quickly put away the box, shoved my phone into my pocket, and ran downstairs, sliding on the hardwood floor.
"Mmmm, pizza" I said, eying the cardboard boxes stacked on the table. I sat down and grabbed a plate.
"Ali, we have to talk to you," my mother said seriously, "Its been a while since the accident.." she trailed off. There was a sudden, awkward silence, filling the room, broken only by the our dogs, sitting in the doorway begging. They were not allowed in the dining room during dinner.
"And we think you should ride again." my dad said suddenly. The words, two simple words, ride again hit me like a bullet, almost knocking me out of my chair. I was suddenly angry, not necessarily at my dad, for bringing this up, but at everything that had went wrong. I was angry at that jump. The vet, who said there was no other option. Everyone in the crowd, suddenly whispering, whispering about me even as I left, my mom practically dragging me away from the vet's truck before giving in and letting me go.
"Who would I ride?" I shouted, mad that they had brought up this seemingly innocent yet completely ridiculous request. "What would I do? Jump? What if it happens again?"
"Calm down, Al. We have plenty of capable horses here, and you know it." Please don't say it, I begged silently, please, please, please don't bring it up.
"You could ride Turtle," Jake suggested quietly, looking at his pizza, not meeting my eyes. I suddenly felt off balance, the world was spinning around me. "You did train him yourself..." He added.
"I know that I trained him myself! I don't need a reminder!" I yelled, still angry.
"I was jus-"
"I. Don't. Care. What you were doing!" I said, now feeling hurt, and knowing that Jake felt the same. I stood up, glared at Jake for a moment, and ran out the door.
The dogs, seeing me get up, followed me. I didn't care, it wouldn't hurt to have someone go with me
Used to be, when I got mad, I would run straight to the pasture, and run out to the trails on Sky, bareback.
How could he? I asked myself. Why would he even bring that up?
Just ride Turtle, his voice echoed over and over again in my head. Just ride Turtle.
I looked up to find myself in the middle of the pasture. I'd ducked under the fence, and made my way out to the only tree out here, a giant oak. It sat next to the shelter. I gripped the lead rope with white-knuckled fingers-
Wait.
Lead rope? I thought, angry, again, but now with myself. I knew what I'd see if I looked up, but couldn't help doing it anyways, even though the sight made me glad I was sitting down, so I knew I couldn't fall over.
Turtle.
****************************************
The girl looked up, in a daze, seeing a few people around her but forgetting for a moment why.
"Honey, I'm going to have to ask you to move, please. We have to put this halter on."
The girl tried to tell the woman no, he won't let you, he only lets me but her voice wouldn't work right. She shook her head, but the woman just patted her shoulder and gently pushed her out of the way. Why did they need his halter on, anyways? Couldn't they take him with his bridle?
The gelding's eyes were wild with fright. He tossed his head and suddenly attemped to stand up, but then collapsed back onto the ground, unable to put weight on his front legs.
The little girl rushed towards him and grabbed the halter from the woman's hand, and attemped to calm her horse down. His breathing finally slowed to a normal rate, but he kept looking around, as terrified as she was for what would happen next.
The vet looked at the girl, who was putting on the halter. He reached forward to take the bridle for her.
Suddenly, the girl felt an immense pain in her wrist, and another, less intense, in her opposite ankle. She cried out for her mother.
Her mother, finally able to make it to the arena, pushed in front of the vet and carried the crying girl out of the arena, so she wouldn't hear what the vet was saying to her dad, who had come late to the show straight from work.
There was one thing she did hear, though, and she knew it would haunt her for years after.
"There's nothing else we can do."
********************************************
Turtle took another step forward and nudged me with his nose, missing his old friend. I resisted the urge to push him away, suddenly scared. But we'd grown up together, after all. Childhood friends.
I reached forward tentatively, and pet his nose. I held out his bridle and he stuck his nose in, an old trick I'd taught him. I couldn't believe he'd remembered.
"Hey, Turtle," I said slowly, standing up. He whinnied, nodding his head up and down, and I jumped back.
I gathered my courage, took a deep breath, and walked up to him slowly.
Every part of me screamed "NO" but I walked up, anyways. I knew it was stupid. This horse hadn't been ridden by me in so long, my brother was the only one allowed on him, because he was the same level as me.
"Hello?" called a voice behind me. I heard a rustle getting closer, a pause, and the sound of footsteps pounding on the ground, obviously moving away.
Turtle, at the sound of the voice, spooked and pinned his ears. I stood under the tree, shaking at the sound of the voice reverberating in my head. Who would be hear at this time? The final rays of the sun were fading, turning everything from a beautiful gold to a dark, cold blue color that seemed to cloak every inch of your body in ice. Suddenly a hand gripped my shoulder. I froze for a moment, then screamed at the top of my lungs.
A shadow, pitch black against the still fading blue spun around. I heard my dog barking. The hand never left my shoulder, even as a pair of solid hooves backed by hard, muscular legs and an immense force slammed into my stomach, knocking me backwards. I hit the tree behind me, and whether from the collision of my head on the hard bark or the sun, finally gone, everything went black.
********************************************
An eternal nightmare. That's all it was. Each time the girl thought she was waking up, another wave of terrors met her at the edge, dragging her back into unconsciousness. She relived that day, that moment, over and over again. Hundreds of times. She wondered what she could have done differently.
Finally, she woke.
Everything seemed bright and loud. So harsh. She closed her eyes again and retreated back into her dreams.
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that's it!
Alright! I hope you like it...I don't think I'll keep writing it because I don't think anyone's reading..So if you want me to keep writing, please comment or its done!
So yup. This is all I have so far!