The Soul of Scarlet's Lost Tears

Toward, the horse stalls he walked, to where his favorite horse was waiting patiently. The man, was also waiting, standing next to his horse that was standing next to the horse stalls. It didn’t take long when of our horse handlers brought out the father’s horse, once the handler saw him approach.

Already having the horse bridled, and already his own saddle that had certain engraved markings etched in the leather of the saddle. Meeting up with each other almost at the same time. Handing over the reins to him without a word said between them.

He the handler, turned around, and just like that he went back attending to the other horses still in the barn. Where there was a lot of ruckus coming from the very barn, with the sound of high neighs and stomping.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming, I’m coming” the handler stated with a hasty retreat. Mounting on their horse’s it wasn’t long, between the two of them figured out who should lead and who should follow. “So, where did you see them” our father asked the man who turned out to be one of our neighbors, “it’s not far, surly not too far from here my friend Drake”.

“So, then lead on, friend” Drake replied, smiling as they slowly at first took their time, trotting, until they were both away from the house, with a good enough distance they started to pick up speed, from a steady trot, to a sprint. By that time, I saw not only my father but also the one who sort of in a way disrupted our peaceful family time.

Watching them through the spaces between the blinds of the front window, go pass without even looking back. It was a few minutes past shortly after that, that I decided not to waste any more of what seems to be a beautiful autumn day, with the sun now shining brightly. With only a few clouds flutter the baby blue sky.

Going back to my room, I started to pack a small bag, with a sketchpad, and pencils, and one of my favorite books just in case I felt like reading. Then once I was satisfied with what I packed, I brought the strap of the bag over my right shoulder then exiting my room, as my youngest brother Timothy was playing with his wooden toys in his room, and the other brother was in the living room sitting in father’s chair, trying to believe he was master of this house even though we all knew it was our mother who was the true master.

He tried to ask me, “and where do you think you are going?”, but before I got a chance of responding back, our mother answered back while she was in the kitchen cleaning. “Let her be, if she wants to leave she can, just be back before the sun sets, ok”, “yes, will do”.

Responding back, as I approached the front door, at the corner of my right eye, I saw Mathew stick out his tongue at me, and before I took one step outside I then returned the manner and stuck out my tongue toward him which he responded back by with, “mom, Alana stuck her tongue at me” in a whining childish tone, “well then, did you stick your tongue at her first”, “well yes but”, “but nothing” our mother said as she soon added, “why don’t you come and help me clean the dishes”.

Mathew then sighed followed by “will do, mother”. The door slowly closed behind me as I was contemplating on my choice between, taking my horse and riding into town, or just walking to town.

Figuring in the distance and how soon I wanted to get there I decided on riding my horse. As if our handler was a mind reader, since by the time it took me to walk to the barn, where the horse stalls was, not only ten feet away, he (the handler) brought out my horse all ready for me, as all I had to do was mount on to the horse which was a beautiful brown mare.

She is a kind gentle mare, where she in a way knew exactly where to go, and if I was in trouble my brother Mathew somehow taught her a trick (like wounded solder trick) where she either rushes to my side, to even gets me out of certain danger before it got worse.

She is as fast as a wild horse. Once I was mounted and ready to go we were on our way, going over a long distance in a matter of minutes I soon started to hear the bustle of a town.

Getting louder and louder the closer I got. Where it wasn’t long before I was now making my way down the center of the one road that divides it in two halves. As everyone was out an about, paying no attention to me.

Which it made it no difference and easy for me to make my way to a small cliff side park. That has a few wooden benches that each have their own view of the wide-open culvert of water, that many different fishing boats come and go, that bring a lot of crates of fish and crab into the small town.

Dismounting off my horse I then walked, little ways toward a bench that it looked just right, as I held on to the loose reigns until I then tide them around a small post then into a knot.