September Story Contest

A Horse's Life part 2 part 1
By: Danielle4484
Age: 11

I slowly began to come back to my senses. At the same time, the memories of Rodger came back too. Then, as I grew more aware of everything, I heard hushed voices. I could tell just by hearing, yet my eyes were not yet able to open, that it was Rodger's step daughter and another human. It was a male's voice I've never heard before – but at least it wasn't Rodger's.
“Will he be OK?”
“Yes, and he seems to be awake. I checked his head. Luckily, he didn't crack his skull or anything like that. Just minor marks, but he blacked out because he hit that head and it effected him more than it would an older horse. But there's something else I should tell you.”
“But you said he was going to be fine!”
“It's not about this. It's about your step father and how neighbors have called 911 of seeing the abused horses here.”

But I didn't hear anything after that. There was something injected in my body, and I quickly fell back asleep.

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I awoke a couple hours later. I was feeling wide awake. I stood up, thinking my head would start to throb, but I felt fine. I peered out of my stall. Why didn't I hear Rodger doing the daily whipping to a horse I always heard when I woke up? Then, I saw Silver, a gray Shetland, being let out of her stall by a man who had a navy uniform on. I looked around the barn in the other direction. The other horses were being led out by other men who had navy uniforms on too!
“What's going on?” I neighed to Silver as she was led passed my stall.
“I think all of us are getting out of here!” She neighed quickly and excitedly.
Getting out of here? What was she talking about? No one can ever escape this place because of Rodger! Then, another man with that navy uniform was opening my door. Uh oh! He's gonna hit me! He's going to do something mean! I backed away into the corner of my stall. “It's OK little pony,” he said, “I'm not gonna hurt you.” I didn't really know anything he said, but when I heard 'hurt', I reared, afraid. When I landed, I went up again, and again, neighing: “Help me! He's gonna beat me! Help!”
Once again I landed, but the man didn't look red in the face at all, like Rodger would. Instead, lowered his eyes and slowly walked toward me. What trick is this? I thought, but I let the man halter me and lead me out of the barn. His feel on the lead rope was much softer, but firm – unlike Rodger's. Rodger's was tight and super firm, and usually led me with some kind of chain that would scratch me when Rodger pulled.
I was led outside of the barn and in front of this huge white,long thing that was hooked to a truck. There was a familiar call. I looked around. Dusty, an older horse, was neighing: “It's OK! We are leaving this place for good!” The man leading me carefully walked me in the trailer, which was really scary at first, but the other horses encouraged me, so I went inside. The man clipped a different kind of rope that was connected to the trailer onto my halter. Then, he put a hay bag filled with hay right in front of me!
As I ate, I heard an engine start, and the other horses started talking too. When the truck turned an angle, we could see Rodger. Metal circles were around his wrists, and a lady with a black uniform and gold badges was leading him into her car. But the truck turned, and we were heading down the driveway, onto a road. All the horses and ponies talked how they got abused and how the navy uniformed men made them feel better and how they were good and not evil like Rodger. Compared to everyone else, I had had it easy with Rodger's abuse.
The conversation turned into something I brought up.
“So, where are we going? What is this thing we are in?”
Dusty: “This is what people call: trailer. And wherever we're going, it has to be better than Rodger!”
There was a low hum as the others said: “That's true.” and “Amen, Dusty!” and similar sayings to that. Then Thunder spoke up, “I bet we are going to place where we are just going to get abused again!” Another pony, Rusty, replied, “That's ridiculous! These people in uniforms are animal rescuers. They are helping us. I, of course would know, because this is the third time I have been rescued -”
“Then why did you get sent again and again to another place that would abuse you?” Thunder interrupted.
Getting bored of the conversation, I ate more of my hay. Soon, it was dark, and the other horses and ponies were quiet. The drive was taking forever! I must have fell asleep because I heard someone neigh that we had stopped. The trailer door opened, and one by one we were led into knew stalls that had food, hay, water, and fresh straw. I was led to a stall that was in the middle of the barn. I met knew horses, all being my age. We each touched noses. The horse on my right was named Shining Star, a full bred Thoroughbred. On my left was another full bred Thoroughbred named Flying Flight.
This was just the beginning of my life.