literature

A Mares Reflection

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TylerFreeFlight's avatar
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Literature Text

     I'm in a bad place now. My fear and anxiety border on sheer terror. In an attempt to understand why I have been brought to this place I close my eyes and sort through the images from my past. In them I must find the answer, the reason I am here, the terrible wrong I must have done.
     I remember my youth. People took me from my mother and taught me strange things. At first it was confusing but the people were kind and patient with me. I soon learned what they taught and what was expected of me. These people were leaders and my companions. They cared for me and I for them. Pulling the two wheeled cart around a track was fun for me. With my special gait, which I always held true and never broke, I would finish ahead of the other horses almost always. This pleased my people very much. They would hang flowers around my neck and after a thorough grooming there was always a little extra in my feed bucket. The answer is not here.
     ( My remembrance is broken by other voices, other horses calling out in fear and confusion. In the sounds of their voices I can tell who they are. One an athlete, one a trusted companion, an other a strong hard worker. They too must have done a great wrong to be here. I close my eyes and resume my search for an answer.)
     In later years I no longer pulled the two wheeled cart in competition. I now had another job. I was mother to many fine and strong foals. I was a dutiful and diligent mare. My people called me an angel and I would call to them in the same soft tones that I used to call to my foals. Sounds meant to warm and welcome those who hear them. I was well cared for and I knew I still pleased my people very much. When I could no longer bear foals my people sent me away. This I did not understand and I worried but my worry was unfounded. The place I was sent was very nice. A young person from the old place lived here, I was still with my people. This young person now cared for me and I grew to care for her as much as I had my older trainers. She spent a lot of time with me. I would carry her on long leisurely walks in vast green forests. Sometimes she would walk by my shoulder speaking things softly, things I did not understand but I grew to know her voice, her scent and her face as if she were one of my own foals. I would protect her as such if need be. Much time passed in this way. In a place that was home, my barn so welcoming, my person so full of care and love. I had a pasture that was always lush and green. I was a good horse, an "angel" they called me. Why then was I taken from my home? I have done no wrong. I can find no answer. It is not here.
     ( Strange sounds, sounds I have never heard before bring me back to the present. I am being driven down a narrow corridor of fence with other horses. I am sweating and shaking. Terror and confusion are close to overwhelming me. Smells to horses are as vivid as colors and the color of the smells here are black and flat. Terrible in their finality. I close my eyes again in search of the answer.)
     I was loved, I was good, I can't understand why I am here. I want to hear my girls voice. I want to smell her scent, to call to her softly and she will take me from this place. I know when I open my eyes I will see her face and my barn and pasture and my home. The answer can't be that I just grew old, it just can't be, not in the home I came from, I was loved. I'll open my eyes and I'll be home and safe.
     She never opens her eyes again. Something fast and hard stabs through her skull and in a searing flash of pain her life ends in fear, confusion and ignominity. Just the same as the other horses on the killing floor of the slaughter house. All of them once loved, and cherished by people, all of them eventually thrown away to die in fear and confusion. Welcome to humanity.
This is for all the horses who are betrayed by humanity. See through their eyes in this essay. Yes I bring you pain, is it not good to share?
© 2015 - 2024 TylerFreeFlight
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EnderGurl22's avatar
Oh my gosh....
That was both amazing, yet dark...
I got the chills. I at first thought she was accused for a crime she didn't commit, yet that last paragraph...
I just. It blew me away...
I can imagine the character standing there, dozens dead around her, lifeless and drained of blood, watching the ponies she knew and grew to love die before her.
She being the killer.
Has she done something wrong? To the rest of the world, she committed murder
A crime of never ending debt
To her... She had done nothing wrong.
Oh! I love it! The concept! The build up! The fact that this character is still left a mystery by the readers. We may know a few things about her, but we don't know much else. She can be standing next to you, and you would never know. 
This story and the character represented are amazing! Thank you for sharing it with me! :D