【Recommend】that winter morning

[phoenix_of_flame 10]

I loved riding; I loved the sensation of the wind rippling my hair, muscles moving rhythmically under me and the excitement of soaring over a jump. But it was such a ride that claimed my privilege of walking. I was deprived of every ounce of movement from waist down. Yet when I remember it now, that fateful day began just as any other.

The spreading warm rays of sunlight peeping around the curtains were my morning wake up calls. Springing from bed, I quickly pulled on a pair of track pants and a T-shirt. I brushed my hair into a ponytail and made my bed hurriedly. Breakfast was on the table. I gulped down a piece of toast with raspberry jam spreading and drained my mug of milk.

“I’m off!” I called to my parents as I raced out of the door.

“Be careful Kala!” answered my mother, “It’s icy out there today!” I took no notice of my mother’s words – I was speeding towards the stable. I pulled open the door and the familiar smell of hay greeted me. I breathed in deeply. It was better than any perfume, any day! I walked over to Frost’s stall and held out an apple. She walked forward and gently took it from my palm. When she finished the apple I reached out again and stroked her white velvety nose,

“Ready for a long ride?” I asked, grinning. Frost whinnied in reply. I saddled her up and lead her out into our paddocks. I swung into the saddle and started walking her around the paddock, gradually developing into a trot, a canter and finally a gallop. She moved swiftly and gracefully, just like when we were in the dressage ring.

After a while we rode out of the paddock and onto the long trail nicknamed, “The Serpent”. I felt my spirits surge sky high, spinning, diving and gliding like an albatross soaring over sparkling blue waters.

We came across a road. It looked so out of place in the breathtaking beauty of nature. I was so deeply absorbed in these thoughts when Frost took me across the road that I ceased to see or hear the low, rumbling sound of a truck, making its way towards us. When I realised, it was already too late. So many things happened in that fraction of a second. The truck’s brakes screeched in its effort to stop while the tyres skidded across the ice, Frost snorted and rolled her eyes in fear, she reared up in panic as the truck came closer, and my screams as I slumped to the ground could be heard from miles away. But after that, there was complete silence, as though we had never been there.

I was spared consciousness the next day. When I woke up, I found my left leg amputated, and every muscle from waist down paralysed. A nightmare could not have been much worse and I willed myself to wake up countless times, desperate for it to end. But by the next day, reality had sunk in and I accepted it, however reluctantly.

I visited Frost in her stall and found that she was not seriously hurt physically, but had been deeply impacted emotionally. She snorted, bit, kicked, and behaved nothing like her gentle self. But little by little I nursed her injured mind. She did not heal quickly, nor well, but I had faith in her just as she had faith in me. This incident was simply a turn on our winding road of life. No one can change the past, only mould the future.