Fight

Chapter Seven- Bad News

[Bad News]

*Lyla*

January 21, 2016

Hershey gallops under me, whisking me across the open field. My hair fans out behind me, following the flow of the wind. I squeeze with my thighs before I drop hold of the reins and spread my arms out at the side of me. 

I throw my head back and rock with the movement, basking in the pure feeling of being free. 

The sound of three sets of hoof beats reach my ears and I smile. It's almost as if I am a child again, riding hours at a time with my mother and father planted by my side. 

I gather the reins back into my hands and lean back. Hershey instantly slows to a trot before breaking into a walk. I let out a sigh and turn my attention to my parents. They are panting, large smiles on their faces. I can tell they were feeling the same freedom I was. 

At a slow and steady pace, I drop my leg grip and lean forward to pat Hershey's neck. Shortly after I rescued Hershey from a slaughter truck I began riding her bareback. She has the smoothest gait that wearing a saddle is almost sinful. 

"I can never get over that feeling." My mother says, siding up next to me. Her horse, Rococo briefly rubs against Hershey, causing my horse to side step away. Rococo has been my mother's horse for nearly seven years now, around the same time I got Hershey. However, when my parents moved upstate, my mother decided to gift Rococo to the barn as a school horse. The dark bay is still her horse in every aspect, it's just an easy way for the horse to maintain a healthy workout. 

Hershey was given to me shortly after the death of my sister, almost ten years ago. I wasn't coping well with the loss, for I was only eleven years old and my big sister was also my best friend. She died shortly after her sixteenth birthday. So, at a loss of how to get me out of my locked bedroom, my mother decided to buy me a beautiful buckskin mare, much to my father's dismay. 

I fell in love with Hershey, she was the best gift for a thirteen year old girl. My mom found herself at the stable more times than at the house, so she soon got Rococo for herself. My father admired the animals, would often go riding with us, however he never had the desire to buy one for himself.

Every time we go riding, he borrows one of the school horses.

"It truly is the best." I whisper, gazing down at Hershey's dark mane before falling into temptation and running my fingers through it. 

"Why did you call us in? Don't get us wrong, we're happy to see you. We typically have to beg to visit, however." My father says. 

I smile to myself, peeking up to look at him. His blue eyes shine as the sun hits them at a perfect angle. His nearly black hair lays with loose curls on his forehead and I can see sprouts of gray forming at his ears. I inherited my father's blue eyes but my mother's blond hair. Dianne Gentry has the luck of having the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen. With her nearly white hair, they're luminescent. 

My parents have been married for almost thirty years and have the most envious relationship. I have rarely seen them fighting or arguing. Even when Amelia passed away, they were able to get through it together. They didn't seek comfort in other people or alcohol or gambling. They found it in each other and in an odd way, their marriage was strengthened by the tragedy.

And it breaks my heart to have to deliver this news to them. Wasn't it bad enough that they lost one daughter? Now they are at the risk of losing another.

"I have to tell you guys something. I figured it would be best that we were doing something we all loved when I did so." I halt Hershey for a moment so both of my parents are on either side of me, and then continue walking forward.