Horse Dreamer

A BCD story prompted by some Counting Crows lyrics. A young woman faces many difficulties with her family and life in general.

This short story includes heavy issues that weigh at the heart.

 

It was requested at one point that I do a second part to this story--either with her death and after death, or a recovery, or something.  I started one and then grew very busy.  It's something I'm still considering doing.  If that's the case, another might be on the way eventually.

 

Picture credit to TRBfoto.

 

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Every race night is shot through with sunlight; trying to hit the big one one last time tonight for drunken mothers and stupid mothers and boys who can’t tell one girl from another. So she takes her pills, careful and round. One of these days she’s gonna throw the whole bottle down. But she’s trying to be a good girl and give ‘em what they want; Margerie’s dreamin’ of…trying to be a good girl and give ‘em what they want; Margerie’s dreamin’ of…horses.

 

“My dear child, what are you doing?” Mrs. Eakar asked as she surveyed the scene.

 

“Homework…” Margerie replied meekly as she looked down at her calculus sheet. The lines next to the problems were empty. She had come to no answers despite her working for hours.

 

“Your room is a mess.”

 

“I’m sorry, mother.”

 

“Your father is complaining about your light being on.”

 

“I’m sorry, mother.”

 

“The phone is ringing off the hook and you haven’t picked it up once.”

 

“I’m sorry, mother.”

 

“Be more considerate and answer the damn phone,” the woman growled as she stormed from the room. Margerie watched the doorway blur from her tears.

 

“Yes, mother…” she whispered to the suddenly cold room. Her room was spotless save for two horse figurines next to her bed, which had fallen when she had reached for her calculator. Her lights were on because she was awake, since it was only four o’clock in the afternoon. The phone ringing off the hook was caused by all the boys trying to get her to go out that evening, and she hadn’t answered for doing her homework.

 

It was all pointless. She would never please any of them.

 

She tried, oh, she tried. Bowed to the pressures they caused. Bent, bent, bent… She would break. She was cracking. It was a feeling that positively plagued her.

 

At best she got her mother to leave. At best she got her father to grin his stupid drunken grin. At best she opened her legs for these boys and had her name erased from their minds by the morning.

 

She wasn’t getting anywhere. The girl reached over and turned out the light, put away the horses, and took the phone off the hook.

 

In trying to please everyone she had become a muddied welcome mat. That piece of ply wood that wouldn’t bendbendbend another centimeter.

 

“Margerie, that damn dial tone is killing your poor father’s hearing!” her mother screamed from the other room.

 

Tears rolled from Margerie’s eyes as she reached over and unplugged the phone. She stopped herself from throwing it at the wall; that would rouse her parents into her room. She couldn’t stand the stench. It would ruin her plans.

 

The teen stalked to the closet. She reached up and snatched a shoebox from the top shelf, then threw it onto the bed. Capsules of pills spilled out over the bed.  Abnormally-colored pills scattered over the horse bedspread. It was a beautiful picture.

 

She stole to the bed and ripped off caps. Poured pills into her hands. With one look at her blue ceiling her chin was tilted and the pills filled her mouth. She thought it good enough to take them dry, maybe she’d be lucky and choke.

 

She hid all the pills yet again and flew back on her bed. She wanted another chance if this one failed. The blue of her ceiling blurred and swam in her vision from a combination of her tears and the pills. The girl had forced them all down through the discomfort and pain.

 

Margerie felt around for her black stallion figurine. When she felt its soft velvety hide she brought it close to her heart and stroked it.

 

This was the end. She would wake up alone because she always woke up alone. Her parents wouldn’t notice, her homework wouldn’t understand, and the boys wouldn’t remember her face in the news anyway. It was all too pointless.

 

It was the most peaceful thought she had encountered in all her years.

Reviews

[Ian Caithness]

This is what I expected of a novel! The passion and the desperation comes out in vicious waves, rolling across the reader with the force of Poseidon at its helm. It's a delightful read. There is no confusion. There is no speculation. In itself, it is raw. I find it quite wonderful that there are the references to the bottles, the pills strewn across the bed, a picture. What kind of picture? A picture of death? A picture of the end? That's up to the reader. In itself, it works.

Of course, improvements could be made with a sequel, which I recommend because it is a beautiful tale of woe. Consider the exploration of the character; explore her interior, explore her life, explore the anguish of her attempts to please men. You have explored the delights of homosexual love, the anguish and the pain. Consider this a challenge; explore heterosexuality, only with a twist. Explore the pain, the turmoil at not being satisfied with a man because it's forced through her own need to please.

Consider the parents. Include them. Imagine that the parents found out she had succumbed to a man's will, bending to their desires. Imagine their reaction. Imagine that; it would break her, would it not? Attempt to think of different conflicts and plot devices. Use your experiences, if you like. She meets a girl. What happens? It's forbidden love. Where does her need to please go when someone comes along and pleases HER?

[The Wilde Rose]

Wow, this is a really nice novella. However, I think you should of opened a little differently.

Nice job :D

[Jade Mayhew]

Oh. My. Goodness.

You have stunned me. I'm practically speechless. This was... this IS... amazing beyond words. You give wonderful description of how torn the girl must have felt... a great description of her suicide attempt, as well. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I've been down that very road... swallowing pills in hopes that the pain would end. Reading this brought tears to my eyes, reliving that time of my life.

I absolutely LOVED this! You did a wonderful job. Never let anything anyone says EVER stop you from writing. You've got serious talent.