November Story Contest
Blazing Chariot
By: Masterpeice
Age: 15
I sighed. "Isn't he gorgeous, Lex?" My friend Cindy called.
"Gorgeous means nothing." I replied. "Remember Breeze? She was gorgeous. Big, black, and beautiful. Remember her personality?"
"Yeah yeah yeah..." Cindy replied, waving her hand at me and flinging a piece of golden hair over her shoulder. "So... are you going to take him?"
I shrugged. "Do I have a choice?" I looked down at the red-chestnut horse below me. This wasn't what I had pictured as my second horse. My previous horse had died of old age some time ago. She had been a sweet Connemara pony cross, a chocolate palomino. She was beautiful - a rich, dark brown, with a white mane and tail. I had gotten her at the age of five, she was twenty-eight. I had ridden her right up to the end, I was fifteen and she was thirty-six. Though it seems cruel, to ride a horse so old, believe me, she loved to be ridden. She was healthy and I didn't work her hard. Then, she just let go peacefully.
I had spent the last few years working her gently in the arena, and my real riding was at a nearby stable. I had done reining, barrels, and all manner of western riding since I was five. recently, I had taken up three-day evening. The dressage and show jumping were of course, grueling and rewarding, but cross country was the most difficult... and the most fun. Now, before you get your clothes in a twist, I'm going to state something: The English and the western were equal in difficulty and fun. That is that, and I don't want another word.
So of course, my parents had the bright idea to get me a younger, more athletic horse. Not that I didn't want one... I did! I was excited for my new horse. So when my parents had dragged me to our back three acres that morning for my birthday, I couldn't have been happier. Then I saw him - Blazing Chariot...
He was a fiery red chestnut Trakehner cross, seventeen hands high, four white socks. He stood tall, neck arched, feet prancing, mane and tail trimmed to perfection. Then, I put him in the round pen. I was going to do some ground work, check out his manners, habits, and personality. But when I unclipped his lead rope, he took off in a fiery passion. He galloped around the pen so quickly, I literally had to wait until he'd tired himself out to do anything with him. He was six years old, supposedly ride able, and well, insane. He reminded me of a mustang. A giant mustang. He didn't know any ground work, except for lunging. And he didn't actually lunge. He ran around you in circles, ignoring me completely and learning nothing. The point of lunging is not just to exercise their bodies, but their minds as well. Chariot acted as if he had no mind to exercise.
Now he was trotting mindlessly back and forth in the round pen, Cindy and I were perched on top.
"He's a nut, Cindy," I said. "It's going to take months until I'll be able to do what I want. I'm going to be stuck doing groundwork and and..." I took a breath. "That's not what I had in mind."
"You wanted an athlete." Cindy said, "He's been running around for a good hour and a half and hasn’t broken into a sweat, I think you've got one."
"You're not helping."
"So..." Cindy replied, "Send him back."
"I can't do that, Cind." I said, "I know I'll be able to change him. It's just... well, I wanted to get started with the cross-country right away. Then the dressage."
"Oh, he'll be beautiful for dressage!" Cindy exclaimed. "He moves so fluidly... and I bet he has that Trakehner walk!" In case you didn't know, the Trakehner's walk is excellent. I won't discuss it now, go find out for yourself.
"I doubt he knows dressage." I replied. "I'll have to school him from scratch." Cindy patted me on the back. "I was looking forward to maybe an eight year-old with some schooling under his belt, but it looks like I've got my work cut out for me."
"He's very... unstable." Cindy said. Chariot was now pacing frantically.
"Very insecure." I replied. "He looks panicked... almost... afraid."
Cindy nodded. "Yeah... like he's afraid of us." I jumped down from the fence to put chariot in a stall before he gave himself a heart attack.
"Come on, nut." I said, clipping the lead rope onto his halter.
* * *
A round place, round and fenced in. No escape. They just look at me, brown eyes and flying hooves, long tail going every which way: Nut. They say that. Is that me?
I trot until my feet are sore, shoes dull against the soft ground.
Still moving, moving moving moving. Because only moving makes two legs go away. Only when I move they can't hit, hurt, whip throw things.
Home is a no place, a place where I once was, was that a home? Box full of straw, smell like two legs and us, both of us: Mother soft and warm, lick and milk and gentle. Good smells.
Then - oh then gone, food warm good all gone, mother gone too. Pushed into moving cave on wheels with the loud noise, crying, crying for my mother, for what was, but not anymore. Leaves, I remember leaves wet and cold against my fur as the wind in the moving cave slapped my neck and made me cold.
Then they pushed me out. Out into a field, with big ones like me. Older, taller, stronger, mean. When the two legs dumped food into the feeder I tried to eat but the big ones like me bit, kicked, hurt and chased, so no food for me. When they left I could eat, but nothing was ever left.
So I would sneak, sneak my food before I got bit. But I only snuck when I was so hungry I was sick. Until then I would wait, ears up, listening and looking for the others like me to move a little, just enough for me to slip in. The big ones were bad. Too big, ran to fast. And no bite would hurt them. One time a big one like me, a big mare was close to me when I snuck food, she chased me through the big field. Chased me until my sides ached, small hooves scrabbled and ran until she stopped chasing me. Then I stood panting by a tree, hot all over, hot breath, throat so dry I could hardly stand it. Worse than hungry to be thirsty.
I got bigger and I got my food then, after they didn't chase me away. Got fatter and stronger so I got even bigger.
Then they came for me one day when I was big. Halter suddenly on my head, pulling and pulling until I moved. Then more and more pulling and yanking hard. Then they held me down and put the leather on my back, tied it there too tight, then shoved the metal piece in my mouth. Suddenly a two leg was on, on my back and hurting me with the whip, hurting me bad so I reared, reared and bucked and tried to get him off. But he would whip more, and yank and pull on my mouth. So I stopped fighting and tried going fast to get him off, but he yanked and pulled until I stopped. He did that until I was so tired I couldn't fight anymore, I couldn't fight him hurting me, and so I let him.
To be continued...
Author's note - I promise, the next chapter will be better!