People Like Them Are an Endangered Species

The small English town of Ottery St. Catchpole was where I’d grown up. For the first eleven years of my young life, it’d just been my Dad, my Mum, my older brother Devon and I. I’d gone to primary school with other children my age, and though I’d made some friends, I spent most of my time by myself, wandering around the village. Mum stayed at home, mostly. Dad was always working, and Devon, being three years older than me, was developing a social life. I was just his kid sister.
It was the summer of 1989. I was eleven years old as of June third. If anything, I wanted to grow up. I wanted to be able to go places with Devon and his friends. I wanted to be able to see a film with a boy and go out on dates. I wanted to travel the world and see marvelous things. I dreamt big, and I dreamt frequently, but as of July 23, 1989, I found out that some dreams really could become reality.
It was right before supper, and Mum was in the kitchen making her homemade shepherd’s pie. Dad worked as an electrical maintenance engineer, and many times his shift ran late. On this particular evening, he’d called Mum from his job and told her he wouldn’t be home until later, seeing as there was an emergency at work. That day, though, Mum was rather solemn. It’d been exactly one year since my Nana died, and the fact that we saw it happen didn’t help ease the pain. Mum was only just starting to return to her normal state.
I was playing in the open backyard, donning a pretty yellow sundress that went nicely with my long blonde hair. I preferred to walk around barefoot, oddly enough. It made me feel rather free. Situated in our backyard was a quaint little pond, inhabited by a number of small fish and tadpoles. When I was much younger, I absolutely loved feeding them. Their little mouths reminded me of vacuum cleaners, the way the food pellets would just get sucked up. Simple things such as vacuum fish would keep me occupied for hours at a time, and at eleven years old, it was still the same.
I’d been sitting by the pond for hours that day, and by six in the evening, the fresh air had made me exhausted. Often times I’d take naps in the soft grass, but no matter how many times I tried that particular day, I couldn’t do it. You know that feeling when you think something significant is going to happen? I was having that feeling, and, being curious, I didn’t want to move in case I did miss something.
I got lucky, and I didn’t have to wait very long. All had been pretty quiet, apart from the occasional hoot of an owl, until I heard what sounded like a crunching noise coming from directly behind me. My heart had stopped. I knew this was what I had been anticipating, something exciting, something riveting, something my childish mind would find spectacular, something-
Something that nearly made me scream my bloody little head off.
Without looking back, I got up and ran like I was being chased, straight to my back door. I yanked it open, and my Mum, who was right there in the kitchen, nearly cut her finger as she was chopping up carrots.
‘’Mum! Mum! Do you see it?!’’ I nearly yelled, out of breath. I pulled open the curtains to the window right above the sink and pointed to the apple tree, only meters behind the pond. Mum put down the carrot and the knife and squinted.
‘’Do I see what, Cassie? I don’t see anything.’’ She replied, leaning further over the sink, trying to get a better look.
‘’The horse!’’ I exclaimed, truly not understanding how she couldn’t see it. It wasn’t that dark out yet. ‘’The winged, skeletal horse, eating from the tree! Mum, I’m telling you it’s there!’’
‘’Cassiopeia Alice Bains, I don’t think you should be in the sun so much. There’s nothing out there, sweetie.’’ She went back to chopping up vegetables. ‘’Can you please go get washed up for supper?’’
Curiosity got the best of me, and I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to investigate something such as this. Turning my back on my mother, I opened the back door again. ‘’I’ll be right back, Mum.’’
I carefully walked across the grass, not wanting to disturb the creature. Needless to say, I’d never seen anything like it in my entire life. It was small, about half my height, but it took the shape of a horse. It had large, skeletal wings, folded up against its boney sides. Its eyes were white and vacant. Whatever it was, it looked injured, a tear going through its right wing. I stood about fifty feet away, but it didn’t even seem to notice, munching off of some apples hanging from a low branch. It was a rather ghoulish-looking creature, but I, being an animal lover, found it really cute. Wanting to get a closer look, I tried moving forward a few feet, when I stepped on a small twig, the crack alerting the skeletal horse of my presence.
It turned its head toward me in an instant, where I was frozen in mid step. It flapped its black wings nervously before taking off at a run, galloping off towards the hills far behind my house, a place I’d never been allowed to go, especially at night time.
I ran right after it.
My hair and dress flew behind me as I sprinted after the speedy creature. Ignoring my mother’s yells for me to get inside, I disappeared over a large hill, keeping my eyes on the injured horse. It looked like it was trying to take off, but every time it attempted, it fell back down again, continuing to evade my company. I didn’t understand why it wouldn’t just let me pet it. It was probably just shy, I concluded. It did look like it was a still a baby.
I’d run over a few more hills before I became out of breath. The skeletal horse quickly began to outrun me, and before I knew it, it’d galloped off into a thickly wooded area, its long tail flicking once more before disappearing into the trees.
Right in front of these trees, lopsided and oddly built, was a multiple story house.