The Deep Prick

~Chapter 1~

 

                                                                                                                  May 15th

  ~ My best-friend Melody has been impaired with blindness since birth. Though she does not want her blindness to be an excuse to hinder her from any pleasure life brings. I admire that about her; she lives blind without complaint. Just the way the trees don’t complain when they lose their leafy warmth in the winter. It’s just the way it is. ~

 

         The hands of twenty-year-old Melody Martin reached out cautiously in front of her. She wore a coral toned floral dress, which complemented her olive skin tone; and her matching floral barrette, tied together her long curled brown hair to the back of her head. Her lashes were long and curled, not forcefully, but naturally. Her eyes were cloudy... beautifully cloudy, like milk poured in black tea. Her hands were finally greeted by a horse’s nose; an appaloosa breed. The appaloosa had a grey mane and tail, with grey speckles and spots on its white body, which resembled a star filled galaxy. His head however, had just one grey spot beneath his forelock, like his unicorn horn had been taken away and left behind, was a perfectly circled marking.
      The horse breathed out air onto Melody's palms, she smiled. Melody then slowly made her way to the horse’s torso; feeling the smooth fur beneath her warm hands. Her hands lead all the way to top of the bare back of the horse, where the reigns rested. The horse patiently awaited her arrival, in an empty and vast grassy field. Melody stepped on a large piece of driftwood and got on the horse, fairly fearless.

        And out sprouted the beautiful and ethereal twenty-five-year-old Caroline Sinclair. It was as if she had been waiting at the edge of the field allowing Melody to find her own way atop the horse. Caroline swiftly swung her tall limbs right behind Melody and sat down softly on her horse’s back. She wore warn riding boots and a white dress, which did not exactly make sense, while she was after all, riding a horse. But Caroline wore the dress with ease, in fact, it sparkled so clean, one would question whether she had just taken it out from the laundry, just to go horseback riding. Caroline held a smile that lingered for a while. She was full of the warm days breezy air; and the sun induced Caroline with a specific glow, which permeated her soul, leaving her infectious and rosy. Her hazel eyes were the curious ones; bright and open to the world. Her teeth barely stayed hidden behind her supple lips that smiled a bright smile. Her mousy brown hair held a few braids within her flowing long locks, which flowed to the middle of her back, waving to gorgeous curls at its ends. One tiny bottle necklace around her neck, was clear glass. It held only a small seed inside, and the silver cap topping it off, was made with an intricate design, which looked like it had come from ancient times.
   Caroline asked Melody, “ready?”
    Melody replied with a slight nervous smile, “ready.”

   “Let's go Stranger,” Caroline said, giving her horse a little kick to his side.

        Caroline and Melody rode off through the grassy pasture reaching a tall treed forest, almost as majestic as the redwoods. They cantered their way through the tall treed forest. Sun rays shot through the trees like warm spotlights. Out from the forest they came to a hill; a flower hill, which led all the way up to Caroline’s tiny cottage. Her cottage was small, as if a large castle had sunk deep into the hill's earth, leaving only a small piece of castle left, for Caroline to call home. The castle brick was hugged so tightly by rose vines on every inch. Such an embrace was like love to the eyes. An array of different flowers and flowered trees took over the grassy hill, that the cottage was so perfectly perched atop of. The flowers were taking up the entire space. It was as if the flowers themselves, rained down from the sky and sprinkled over the land overlooking the beautiful Astoria, Oregon ocean; not making the eyes believe in fairy tales, but perhaps in flower tales instead.