Last Kiss

Despite the fact that I had an 8AM class the following morning, I couldn’t convince my mind to shut off long enough to fall asleep. Every creak in the warped floorboards resounded hollowly though the small apartment, and my contorted mind could all too easily imagine Max stalking down the narrow hall. Every whisper of air through the vents seemed like the exhalation of his breath. I felt the long gashes on my arm stinging lightly in pain, and I could practically feel his strong fingers still wrapped around my wrist, keeping me from running. Worse, I could still feel his lips on mine, suffocating and stifling me.

The very sanctity my apartment had once held had been ruthlessly broken, and the thought of being unconscious and unprotected was enough to make my skin crawl. For the first time in my college career, I yearned to be home, in the relative safety of my own house.

When you’re a child, you always imagine your parents to be some sort of gods. To a child, a parent is powerful and can protect you from the monsters under the bed. Now, knowing that a literal monster could be lurking in the darkness, I longed for my mother’s hug as I stood in the protective shadow of my father.

With a pang in my heart, I realized deep down that they really couldn’t help me this time. In addition, I was reluctant to drag them into the mess I had encountered. I didn’t want Max to affect them as deeply as he had me, and I knew Max could all too easily get to my parents. It was simpler to keep this problem to myself.

Eventually, my fear-ridden mind exhausted itself, and I slipped into a fitful slumber. Despite the momentary blackness, I couldn’t prevent nightmares from haunting my sleep. They slithered into my mind, starting out as a whisper of insecurity before they crescendoed into a whirlwind of pain and despair. I dreamed over and over of Max’s insufferable smirk, and this time, there was no Amanda to save me.

When I woke in the morning with a cry, I wasn’t surprised to find myself tangled in a mess of sheets, my pillows sprawled out across my floor. Clearly, I had been tossing and turning all night, frightened by the images my mind presented me. The lingering emotions from the dreams persisted, and it took nearly ten minutes to finally calm my racing heart.

Despite my exhaustion and unease, I forced myself to attend all of my classes. I desperately wanted to have some sort of normalcy in my daily schedule. It was futile, however, as Max plagued my thoughts throughout the entire day, and I couldn’t absorb a single word that my professors said. It was impossible to resist continually glancing over my shoulder, paranoid that he was somewhere watching. Every bush cast odd shadows upon the ground, and I imagined Max peering through the leaves. Every building I passed stared down upon me with endless numbers of windows, each one holding the potential for Max to hide.

I couldn’t get the image of his cold, angry eyes out of my head.

I needed to get away from campus; I needed to escape to a place where I could collect my thoughts and plan my next course of action. I certainly couldn’t go home, Violet was at work, and I hadn’t established any other safe places around Pittsburgh to retreat to in an emergency. After a moment of hesitation, I grabbed my old, muddied boots off the floor and headed to my car.

Despite the fact that I didn’t have a horse lesson scheduled until Wednesday, I knew that my coach would let me squeeze in the extra practice with a little explanation. A quick phone call confirmed this suspicion, and I immediately set out on my journey. Within minutes, my old, reliable truck was carrying me across the hills of Pennsylvania to the rustic stable half an hour away. Snow had fallen recently, and I gazed upon the pristine whiteness of the untouched fields. The tree branches were coated in a fine film of ice, giving them the illusion of exotic white foliage. The drive alone was soothing, and I took the time to absorb the beauty of my surroundings as I felt my nerves subside slightly.

When I arrived at the stable, I slipped out of my car and to the indoor ring that had become my second home. My coach had warned me that she was out shopping and probably wouldn’t be back until after I had finished. Ordinarily, she never allowed students to practice on their own, but decided to relent after hearing the despair in my voice. The snorts and stomps of the sleepy horses made a small smile flutter briefly to my lips as I made my way to the third stall on the right.

Buck was by far my favorite horse on the property. He was only the second horse I had ever ridden in my entire life, but I had instantly fallen in love with him. While the other horses’ gaits were rough and hard to control, Buck seemed to always know exactly what I wanted from him and sought to make me happy. He was the first horse I had ever loped on—a wonderful gait that made me feel like I was on a merry-go-round that was soaring smoothly through the air.

As I slid the door to his stall open, he whickered softly in greeting. I ran my hand gently over the blaze that adorned his beautiful face before grabbing a halter and leading him out to the crossties in the hallway. Picking up a brush, I fell into the familiar and comforting routine of my weekly lessons.

When you’re working with a horse, it sometimes becomes hard to tell where you end and the horse begins. There’s no room for ignorance and lack of attention when working with a 1,500lb animal. If the horse spooks and rears, a hoof could easily strike you on the side of the head and kill you. Failure to properly handle a horse can easily result in death.

After brushing Buck and tacking him up, I lead him out to the ring, walked him around, and mounted. Settling deep into the saddle, I began walking around the edges of the circle. The familiarity began to soak through the anxiety and fear that had saturated every fiber of my being, and I felt myself begin to truly relax. I took a long deep breath, inhaling the scents of leather, hay, and manure. To others, the combination would be a repulsive aroma, but to me, it was a beautiful, comforting smell.

Relaxing further, I clucked to Buck, and we began to jog around the ring. The burst of speed was all too familiar, and I smiled in satisfaction as how quickly he had responded. Squeezing my legs lightly to urge him to continue, I rode around the ring a few more times before switching direction and riding counterclockwise.

Soon, I felt my thoughts drifting away from the comfort of the saddle and towards the problems awaiting me back at school. Clearly, Max terrified me. There was absolutely no way around that. I had many valid reasons for being frightened, number one definitely being the fact that he had physically abused me. I knew that I couldn’t enlist the aid of anyone to help me because Max could buy off anyone who might actually help, including the police. Truly, he had cut me off from any form of assistance, isolating me and leaving me to wallow in fear alone.

I knew that I hadn’t seen the last of him. He had made sure of that with his parting words, and my paranoia of the day was evidence enough that I believed him. The trouble was that I knew I couldn’t keep myself locked up in my apartment forever, and I knew that I couldn’t look over my shoulder every four seconds as though I had schizophrenia. I had to find a way of dealing with Max. The question remained, though: how? I shook my head lightly in confusion, vowing to think of a solution later.

The way Max’s eyes had lit up when he realized I had feelings for Kris had unnerved me. It was as though he had seen something deep within me that he found both fascinating and impossible to believe. Yet at the same time, there was a little light of triumph behind his blue orbs that frightened me, as though he had realized something of importance that was just out of my grasp of knowledge.

I wasn’t entirely sure I liked Kris, anyway. Kris was unintentionally charming; there was no way I could deny that. But Kris was a guy whom I had met once under unusual circumstances. I had enjoyed my short time with him, but I honestly didn’t know him. I couldn’t even begin to guess what was plaguing his thoughts--the very thing that was making him recoil from his teammates. I didn’t even know his favorite band or color, nor did I know his hopes and dreams.

With a start, I realized that I wasn’t entirely correct. While I didn’t know his favorite band, I knew that he liked Guns and Roses enough to blast them from the speakers of his car. I clearly didn’t know his favorite color, but I knew that he was insecure about his English skills. I didn’t even know his hopes and dreams, but I knew that he thought Pittsburgh was magical in the way the city and the people make you feel as though you belong.

I may not have known everything about him, but I knew enough to know that I couldn’t deny I had feelings for him.

Before I quite realized what was happening, Buck snorted in fear and half-reared. My mind quickly snapped back to attention, and I realized that I hadn’t been focusing on the animal underneath me at all. I made a rapid attempt at calming Buck, pulling gently at the reins and talking to him in a soothing voice. However, it was clearly too late as Buck bolted into a sheer gallop across the length of the ring. Unprepared and unfocused, I felt myself toppling off the side of his back.

Even before I hit the ground, all I could think about was his flying hooves. I knew the ground was soft and that I likely wouldn’t be seriously hurt by the fall itself. But if one of his hooves caught me, I could have injuries ranging from bruises to fatality. As soon as I felt the dirt underneath me, I rolled away, frantically covering my face in a futile attempt at protection. Luckily, Buck thundered past me, leaving me shaken but unharmed.

I sat up slowly, extending my limbs to check for damage. Reaching the far end of the ring, Buck skidded to a halt, snorting and breathing heavily. Even from my position on the floor, I could see the sweat covering him, and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed his fear before. I quickly glanced around, trying to find what had startled him.

Groaning, I realized that Max and Kris had been consuming my thoughts, and I had been too busy figuring out my life to notice my surroundings. A crop was laid out across one of the cones marking patterns, and I knew that Buck had a fear of being whipped. If I had been paying attention, I would have thrown that out of the arena before Buck had even entered.

Standing up, I made my way over to the cone, grabbing the crop and putting it back in its basket. Then, I made my way over to a still panting Buck and ran my fingers over his legs, checking for injuries. Finding none, I quickly swung myself back into the saddle. I knew Buck needed to be walked, bathed, and brushed, but I also knew that I had never fallen from a horse before and didn’t plan on letting one tumble ruin riding forever.

After all, if you fall from a horse, you have to get right back into the saddle.