Chapter 1
When I opened my eyes, the rider had dismounted and was hunched over me. He was
only a boy, a few years older than me, but he looked as though he had come from a
different world, a storybook land of knights, elves and princes. His dark long hair
framed a pale sensitive face with high cheekbones and brilliant blue eyes, and he was
staring at me so intently that I felt uncomfortable.
This was unreal. I wasn't the kind of girl who crashed into good looking guys. I
scrambled shakily to my feet.
"I'm ....sorry," I stammered "I didn't see you."
"You weren't suppose to." He replied
He looked tired and tense, and the shadows under his eyes were like soft bruises on a
tender plum.
"I'm sorry," I repeated stupidly, waiting for him to apologise in return. But the boy
simply stared at me.
"Did you stop my horse on purpose?"
"Did you ride into me on purpose?" I fumed back.
"There's no harm done to you", the boy replied. "But I cannot say as much for my
horse." The great beast was trembling and sweating, tossing it's head and rolling it's
eyes as though it had seen a ghost.
"Oh, I am sorry," I snapped. "Where I come from, humans are actually considered
more important than horses."
"The world is overrun with humans, like rats, but I have rarely found a horse that
suits me so well." His expression was so cold as a winter sea. He murmured to the
shivering animal, his long fingers searching it's mud-spattered sides. Then he looked
up at me, a fraction less hostile. "Fortunately there's no real damage."
"Oh, great", I said. "The horse is fine. Well, that's a relief. I thought it might be bruised
and covered in mud after being knocked down,oh,and late for its first day at a
hideous boarding school, that's all. But no,the horse is fine. Hallelujah!"
I scrambled furiously to collect the stuff that had spilled from my suitcases. Who did
he think he was, think he is a pretentious poser, with his long black hair and his long
black coat? Some kind of romantic highwayman? Just some kind of jerk. I seethed,
squashing everything back into the case as quickly as I could. A blue sweater lay in a
puddle . I grabbed it, then yelped.
"Ouch!"
The sweater fell open to reveal my framed photo of mom. She was beautiful in that
picture, laughing into the camera on a long lost summer's day. I had wrapped the
precious keepsake in the sweater during my hasty packing, to keep it safe. But the
glass in the little frame had broken and sliced into the palm of my hand, and now a
drop of blood oozed over my Mom's face.
I rocked back on my heels. I just wanted to sit in the rain and howl. "Look what you've
done!" I snapped angrily, trying to hold back my tears.
The boy threw his horse's reins over a low branch in the lane and walked over to me
gripping my hand in his and whispered something and also on the broken frame... I
just watched him kneeling still next to me.. I watched in disbelief as my hand had
stopped oozing out red blood and just as I was about to question he got on his horse
and rode off... I stared at my hand in disbelief for an hour as I wanted to know how
and what....
Eventually I got up and stuffed everything else into my suitcase and continued my
walk to the stupid boarding school.
