Status: Work in progress
Last Mile
Riding a Bullet to Guadalajara
The last train out of the station left at 2:10, I got there at 2:08. Talk about being in the nick of time. I didn't know it then but, in just a year that would save somebody's life.
I was sitting in my seat shaking,light headed and nauseous. I had blocked the house number from my phone and deleted "HER" number,but still just couldn't shake the feeling that Cheyenne would find me. That's why I choose this train, the train that left the soonest from here to Mexico. I never liked the heat but I liked the idea of ranching.
A week ago, in the middle of the night, I fired up my laptop which happened to be the last thing mom gave me for my birthday. Googleing horses and shows was the only way to touch the world, the world which was my life. I stumbled upon a article about Mexico's new train,the Tren Bala. Tren Bala is Spanish for bullet train, bullets trains are capable of speeds up to 187 MPH. Tren Bala was the perfect way for me to escape into Mexico, to start my life back into the horse world.
Once over the border I would board the train and ride it all the way to Guadalajara.
Cheyenne would never travel into Mexico, the Swine Flu had scared her away. So the danger was in the US part of my trip. I knew I was safe once into Mexico. HER would never bother to look for me,even if I was in the US. I was shaking and nauseous and the lightheaded were completely unnecessary. I guess it was just by nature being as both my parents were dead and I had lived with the she devil for the last year. Being on my own was a privilege I was not allotted." HER" my aunt Cheyenne, thought that I would get into danger. And Danger in Cheyenne's mind was anything I liked. ANYTHING. Movies were to be watched at home and must be black and white because "the acting was better and the films were more meaningful", Books were to be read from the Victorian era and only the Victorian era, food was to be organic and vegan. God how I missed milk!!!
Being alone was a bit nerve racking. I was always alone living with HER but not totally alone." HER" was there, nobody else but "HER". My friend were riders and competitors in my mind.
Although we got along like sisters when it came to horses there was nobody we hated more. Each of us were great riders, with multiple tittles. Each a force to be beaten.
Sitting on the train, no matter how hard I shook, they were all that was on my mind.
Living and working in Mexico, my tittles wouldn't matter. I had to start over, get my mojo back, at one time I could clean 35 stalls a hour, now it might take me a lifetime.
The whistle blew, I jumped out of my mind, almost of the window from fright. I needed to grab my bags and get on to the platform. It was easy to sling my back pack of my shoulder but the saddle bag was a another deal. Cheyenne's house was more like a mansion so it was easy to stash in a closet never to be found. It was bulky even thought it was light, carrying it over shoulder was a challenge that had to be won, after all I would be sitting down again in five some odd minutes. A saw Tren Bala. I saw the rest of my life.
I was sitting in my seat shaking,light headed and nauseous. I had blocked the house number from my phone and deleted "HER" number,but still just couldn't shake the feeling that Cheyenne would find me. That's why I choose this train, the train that left the soonest from here to Mexico. I never liked the heat but I liked the idea of ranching.
A week ago, in the middle of the night, I fired up my laptop which happened to be the last thing mom gave me for my birthday. Googleing horses and shows was the only way to touch the world, the world which was my life. I stumbled upon a article about Mexico's new train,the Tren Bala. Tren Bala is Spanish for bullet train, bullets trains are capable of speeds up to 187 MPH. Tren Bala was the perfect way for me to escape into Mexico, to start my life back into the horse world.
Once over the border I would board the train and ride it all the way to Guadalajara.
Cheyenne would never travel into Mexico, the Swine Flu had scared her away. So the danger was in the US part of my trip. I knew I was safe once into Mexico. HER would never bother to look for me,even if I was in the US. I was shaking and nauseous and the lightheaded were completely unnecessary. I guess it was just by nature being as both my parents were dead and I had lived with the she devil for the last year. Being on my own was a privilege I was not allotted." HER" my aunt Cheyenne, thought that I would get into danger. And Danger in Cheyenne's mind was anything I liked. ANYTHING. Movies were to be watched at home and must be black and white because "the acting was better and the films were more meaningful", Books were to be read from the Victorian era and only the Victorian era, food was to be organic and vegan. God how I missed milk!!!
Being alone was a bit nerve racking. I was always alone living with HER but not totally alone." HER" was there, nobody else but "HER". My friend were riders and competitors in my mind.
Although we got along like sisters when it came to horses there was nobody we hated more. Each of us were great riders, with multiple tittles. Each a force to be beaten.
Sitting on the train, no matter how hard I shook, they were all that was on my mind.
Living and working in Mexico, my tittles wouldn't matter. I had to start over, get my mojo back, at one time I could clean 35 stalls a hour, now it might take me a lifetime.
The whistle blew, I jumped out of my mind, almost of the window from fright. I needed to grab my bags and get on to the platform. It was easy to sling my back pack of my shoulder but the saddle bag was a another deal. Cheyenne's house was more like a mansion so it was easy to stash in a closet never to be found. It was bulky even thought it was light, carrying it over shoulder was a challenge that had to be won, after all I would be sitting down again in five some odd minutes. A saw Tren Bala. I saw the rest of my life.
♠ ♠ ♠
A bit longer the first one huh??What do you think of the idea of Guadalajara???