Soulbound

Chapter 1

My mother was a great woman and not what the priest, who was a stranger to me, described her as. People around me were crying as he preached about her apparent life. Only I was angry. What he told was the smallest part of her. Her mother had dedicated her whole life to horses, even in her last seconds she had saved horses.

It had been a stormy day. The perfect day to commit a small crime. The sky was dark, covered in heavy gray clouds. She wanted to put her plan into action. There was a mass operation in the neighboring town. She had informed the animal protection agency several times, but they insisted that they could not do anything without legal evidence. So she had made a decision. She would provide them with this legal evidence. So the woman got into her car. It was a long drive, because they lived in the country and the neighboring town was not exactly a stone's throw away. But she blocked all that out. These animals simply had to be able to live a decent life. In the last few seconds, everything happened too quickly. The camera filmed the horses, pressed tightly together. She had struggled to hold back her tears. Suddenly they were frightened. That was not the reason for her death. She had simply collapsed. Without any warning. Heart attack. At least that's what I was told. On the phone. Aunt Kerstin had been with her. They had almost been discovered. But at least the trial against the petty criminal was now underway. I didn't hear much of it, though. And I was happy about that.

Now I was sitting on the pew and listening to the pastor's speech, which simply left out important details about her life. The inheritance had already been left to me. Even though I was far too young to own a horse farm at just fifteen. Luckily, Aunt Kerstin and her small family had always lived with us. She would help me until I was old enough to take care of everything properly.
The church hall became very quiet. Only the footsteps of the people who were now lifting the coffin could be heard. We followed them over the pebbles of the cemetery. The priest spoke the last words to my mother and to his God as he lowered her into the grave. I was the first in the line of people, all of whom looked far too upset. I had never seen at least half of them before. The other half was Aunt Kerstin's family and some animal rights friends. And my favorite cousin Jaqueline.
With an icy expression, I threw some flower petals onto my mother's coffin. As if that would do her much good. I stood to the side and waited for Kerstin and her family. The crying Kerstin was the first to hug me before turning to her family.

Silently and still without feeling, I watched her and her family sobbing. I had cried enough. Despite the deep sadness, I did not cry. I searched my pockets, handed her a pack of tissues and accompanied my new family to the car. Now it was official. It was so surreal. My mother was dead. Her riding stable was now my riding stable. And she would never see her favorite horse, Chagall, again. What was he thinking?

My mother had had Chagall since he was a foal. She had taught him everything. In theory, this horse was my brother. A beautiful brown draft horse with a jet-black mane and a shooting star on his forehead. But I didn't really like him. I had never understood my mother's fascination. I had merely tolerated it. But now Chagall was left. He was the only part of her that was still alive.

Still silent, I got out of the car.

I also had a horse that I loved more than anything in the world. Tony. He was gentle but also cheeky. That suited me. Sometimes I had the feeling he understood what I was saying. Maybe it was what my mother had with Chagall. With him I had the feeling he was my soul horse.

Exhausted, I strolled into the stable. Today had been a long day. I didn't feel like having guests at home who would drink coffee and eat butter cake until they dropped. I always hated funerals. Back when my father lost his battle with cancer, I hated it. And today I still hated it. Only today could I choose whether I wanted to be involved or not. So I consciously decided against the celebration.