The Fault In Reality

Chapter Two

The sun streams through a gap in the curtains, pooling into a rectangle on the floor. I watch it, chin propped up on a pillow, legs stretched out behind me. My thoughts chase each other in aimless circles. When my growling stomach becomes too loud to ignore, I heave myself out of bed and groan slightly. I'm stiff from an awkward sleep, and my head twinges with the beginnings of a headache.

I pull on an old, ragged sweater and stiffle a yawn. As I pad down the stairs, I hear voices drifting out from the kitchen. I catch the tips of their stray words, enough to know the conversation is about me. With practiced movements I tiptoe forwards, testing each floorboard for squeaks before putting my full weight on it.

"She hates me." I'm surprised to hear my dad's voice, low with anger.

"You left us, moved half way across the country. What did you expect?" my mother says.

I lean against the wall. I'm glad this conversation is getting itself over with sooner rather than later.

"We got a divorce! She knew it was coming," I can hear frusteration laced in my father's tone. "It all happened so fast. I thought we'd do some sort of living arrangement, but then I met Pat and... well, she had Toby, it was no time to bring in Era. But I do want her in my life, Jules. I still love her, she's my daughter."

His words are a relief, they lift a weight off my chest that I didn't even know was there.

"Just give her some time, and she'll come around," my mother assures him.

"Will she?"

"Look, it's not just you. She's had a bad experience. You know... her horse."

"Eclipse?" My father's voice comes out hoarse. "Ah. Well. She can have on of ours, after all, we're a fully functioning ranch."

"It's not like that!" my mother says sharply. I find myself surprised she understands.

"Don't worry, I'll find her the perfect horse." As usual, my father isn't listening. There's a scraping of a chair, and a few murmuring I can't make out. I stalk into the room, eyes glinting and lips curling. It's as though being here has replaced my weariness with anger. For some reason it feels good.

"Era, good morning!"

Before I can stop him, my father has wrapped me up into a hug.

"Chase and I sure could use your help around the ranch today, what do you say?"

I pull away quickly. "No," I say plainly.

"Era," my mother says in a warning tone.

"Please, Era," my father says. "You'd help us out a lot."

I turn over the matter in my head. I don't want to be around any horses, not after Eclipse. But maybe, just maybe, being around them will help loosen up this deadened feeling inside me. It's the first time I've cared. I exhale sharply.

"It's not like there's anything else to do around here," I say by way of confirmation.

The next hour finds me leaning over a paddock fence, clutching a hose and squinting my eyes against the rebounding shoots of water that leap off the plastic bucket. In the far end there's a chestnut horse, with a scruffy coat and bright eyes. She ignores me. I ignore her. My jeans steadily soak up the stray splatterings of water.

When I've filled the water bucket to its brim, I motion for my father to turn off the hose.

"Good job," he tells me as I pass him on my way to another paddock.

"I'm not a baby." I toss the words over my shoulder, let them come out cold and sharp.

Fill. Dump. Fill. Dump. I work until my clothes are soaked.

"Nice look, it suits you," Chase says from behind me. I ignore him. No doubt my appearance is less than complimentary, not that it matters. I glance around for my father, but he's at the far side of the field, filling a trough for a whole clump of horses.

I angle myself away from Chase and walk pointedly past him. Dump. Fill. Dump. Chase just watches me, like I'm some sort of test subject. I consider picking a fight with him. Both verbal and physical would feel satisfying, but I decide to draw him out with silence. Ignore him until he gets annoyed and returns the favour. I smile to myself as I stomp past him, bucket sloshing, around the corner of the barn. In the distance the house is silhouetted against the sun, rippling grass and several fences dividing me from it.

I turn the corner in time to hear Chase's warning call of,

"Wait, don't go there!"

Curious, I walk faster, spilling more water in the process. There's a few trees swishing in the breeze, and an empty paddock. No, not empty. A horse cowers in the corner.

Like a gentleman tipping his tophat, he pins his ears at my approach. I can feel a mass of something hard and ferocious, something terrified writhing under his subdued appearance.

Something in my chest breaks loose. It's as though all the emotions I've been shoving into the deepest shadows of my mind are being called up by the sight of this creature, as broken as Eclipse.

Chase rounds the corner at a run.

"Get away from there!" he calls. "That horse is dangerous!"

"Go away," I spit at him. I need to get closer to this creature, need to feel his anger.

"What?" Chase demands, and his expression tells me he doesn't think he's heard me right,

"I said: Go. Away." I repeat.

"You're insane," Chase replies, and gives me an appraising look. "I'm getting your father."

His retreating footsteps are nothing to me as I turn my attention back to the horse.

His form is big, but the way he carries himself renders his presence small and forgettable. He neck is cloaked in an inky mane, one that spatters the sky almost apolegetically around his neck. He is a storm of scars, bandaged only by fear. One day he will tear the stitches of cowardice away, and the world will be left with a spool of thread the color of blood and bruises. Perhaps they will try and knit him together with spurs and whips, or maybe complimentary colors. But it's not in his interest to look good, lift his feet, swat at the fly on his flank.

I stare at him, but he won't meet my gaze.

"Hello?" I whisper, but the breeze snatches my words and tosses them high into the clouds.

One black ear tips forwards, while the other clenches tighter against his skull. He lifts his head a little higher, curls his upper lip to catch my scent. I frown at him, trying to untangle what is an act and what is truly himself, trying to figure out if they've become the same thing.

Sometimes I'm not so certain of it in myself.

"Era! Era, get away from there!" My father's voice cuts through the air like a whip. The horse rears, dust billowing under his churning hooves as he twists himself around. I watch with a tight chest as he returns all four legs to the ground, this time folding himself up very small. eyes ringed in white. There it is. The fear that contains the anger.

"Era, keep away, do you hear me? That horse was badly abused, he's gone wild, given up. Stay away!"

I want to reply, but my throat has gone dry. I just stare at the horse and his desperate antics, his lashing hooves, mane drowing out the blue sky, eyes haunted.

A/N: Hello, to anyone reading this! I know the transition from chapter one to chapter two is a littlebit rough, but I'm working on it. Thanks for sticking around!