A New Home (Chapter 2)

Chapter Two



I walked onwards, feeling like I wanted to die but I couldn't. It had been four days since I have lost Star, but I wasn't bothered by that thought. The more days went by, the faster I would find him. There was finally something urging me to go on; to live for and to strive for. It felt like my life sagged down along with me every time I rested and sat down on my knees, but when I stood up I felt new and refreshed, like I just started my journey. Destiny awaited me, somewhere far away from where I was, I knew. I didn't need to die, because things could always go better. But at that stage, right there and right then, I stood in front of a huge hole in the ground that stretched as wide as the eye could see, to both sides. It felt like I have reached the end of the earth and the ground on the other side of the hole felt like a mirror's reflection; so unreal. The only difference between this side and that side was that I was on this side, and on the other side was nothing. Nothing. Nothing...

The sun poured down its light onto earth like I've never felt before. My clothes clung onto my body, my hair and face wet with sweat. I wished I could clean myself, but that hole ... It bothered me. There was something fishy to it, I knew. It felt like the earth  had a crack in it, and the crack stretched right around the earth, never-ending. But I knew I would find a way to go over it, or even under it. Or even through it. For some time I just stood there, thinking, wondering, making plans, waiting. But nothing came to mind; my brain stood still and I couldn't think of anything helpful. I only thought about California Star, and how wonderful and beautiful he was. I was sure he would've inspired me with an idea to get over, under, or through this hole. But he wasn't with me. He was only in my head now, and in my heart. I longed to see him again; longed to watch him race the wind, his coat glistening in the sunlight. I also loved to watch him run free when he was still a wild and frisky young colt, following the sun at day and the stars at night..

Follow the stars! That was it! I would wait for the night to come, then I would follow the stars! Maybe they would lead me somewhere special, or maybe even show me where California Star was. The temperature would also be low if I travelled at night, and I wouldn't be held back by extreme exhaustion and extreme heat. But that meant that I wouldn't necessarily be able to see where I was going, and that dreading hole would still be there. But I hoped and prayed that the stars would be light enough, and that they would shine on the path ahead of me, showing me the way. I also hoped and prayed that I would find California Star again, and soon...



❖ ❖ ❖



And I followed the stars indeed.

For the rest of that day, I waited in the sharpest light and the most unbearable heat of the sun. There was no sign of any food around, so I didn't eat or drink anything that day. Before, I have learned to use rocks and things to throw at birds that flew quite close to the ground, but here there weren't any birds to eat. Not even small insects or rabbits or any other sign of life. I felt dizzy, and was afraid that I would starve from the hunger and dehydration. My heart was thumping madly against my ribcage, and my mouth felt swollen and sore. I have been feeling absolutely fine on my journey until now, where I didn't have any access to water or food whatsoever. I was afraid, scared, terrified...

"Jesus! Help me!"

I didn't have any other choice than to cry out to God. My father always taught me to have God as my first priority in my life, but I often forgot about to do it, and then I forgot about God, too. I thought for a moment, remembering my father's words.

"In Hebrews 13:5, the Bible says: 'I will never leave you, nor will I forsake you.' You should remember this, Joey. Remember that He will always be with you no matter what, and that He will protect you from evil. Trust in him, and you shall live. But push Him away, and you shall have to bear with the consequences ..."

I closed my eyes and thought about my father for a moment, locking everything else out of my mind. He had been so loyal to all of us. He was a wonderful man and father; protective, trustworthy, honest ... But most of all, he was an amazing child of God. I have always respected him for that. I missed him so much; more than I thought I ever would. But ever since that night when my father and mother argued, the thought of hating my father crossed my mind. I then accepted the fact that I hated him; hated him for saying that we would have to sell all of our horses, due to the lack of income. Money was nearly all my dad thought about, and he was barely ever at home throughout the day. He worked on weekends, as well, trying to bring in more money for food. We were low on money at that stage, but hearing that we had to sell all of our horses for extra money was an extreme shock for me, and supposedly for the rest of my family as well.

My thoughts then switched to the death of my family, and how devastated I was by the whole situation. We would've sold the horses that very day when they all died. I was happy for the horses, but then it felt like a crime to feel even an inch of happiness because my family died, which brought sadness and mourning over me. I was all alone, and I didn't know how to handle it all. The house was empty and cold without my family, and I was the only one who lived there. I had no idea why I was the only one who stayed alive. Couldn't I just have died as well? It would've just been so much easier on me. After a week or so, our landlord had found out about my family that died, since my father didn't pay the bills. He came to inspect the house, with the intention to inform my father that he had not paid yet. Instead, he found an empty, dark, and cold house. At first he thought we had moved, but when he saw that the horses were still there, he got a little suspicious.

He didn't know that I still lived there until he thoroughly inspected the house from one end to the other. All of our furniture and belongings were still in the house, so of course he should've known that we didn't move. But he wasn't a fool, and I have realised that. I have heard that in the 1700's, British soldiers had to live in the houses of people in the colonies because the Tea Party's tea bags were destroyed at the harbour by rebels, and the British soldiers were there to control the violence and arrest the rebels. It all depended on King George, if he wanted to start a war or not. Some of the people moved away to other countries on boats that left the harbour at midnight, letting the soldiers come home at night to stranded houses that were still full of furniture, but the people themselves were gone like mist in front of the sun. I was sure Mr. French - our landlord - had heard about that, too, so that was why he inspected the house. But maybe he thought that we had moved because my father could not pay the house's bills anymore, leaving the house stranded. But he knew we wouldn't just leave the horses, because they were very precious and vulnerable.

He eventually found me hiding in the back yard at, in the stall of my beloved horse, California Star. He had questioned me about everything, pulling every single detail out of my short, sad answers. He noticed that I have been crying a lot because my eyes were red and my face was swollen and blotchy, but he acted like he didn't care. I knew he was a little sorry for me, but he showed no emotion whatsoever. He left me, saying that he wanted to sell our house and all of our precious, wonderful horses, and he also wanted to send me to an orphanage far away from home. I was obviously reluctant to go, but he forced me to pack my bags anyways. But I had a plan. A plan that I was sure was going to work. A plan that had to work, otherwise I was doomed...

After that day that my family died, I regretted the fact that I had hated my father. I have always loved my father, but on that night that he said he was going to sell our horses, I was furious, anxious and very concerned. So much so that I decided that I would hate him for the rest of my life, or well I soon realised I hated him for the rest of his life, of which the end came very soon. Sooner than ever expected. No one else besides myself and California Star knew that I hated my father for those last few days. If I had a problem, I always ran to Star and told him what lay on my heart, then he was always there to comfort me. My father, on the other hand, didn't understand why I would want to talk to a horse, because he thought that animals couldn't understand the human language. But I knew Star could understand what I said, because he used to stare at me with those huge, chocolate-brown eyes of him, looking through my eyes at my heart, telling me that everything was going to be okay.

I longed to hug Star again, digging my fingers into his mane, smelling his hay breath and feeling his soft, velvety muzzle against my back. Hearing his nicker over all the other sounds in the stables; the constant swish of a broom sweeping across the smooth floor in the lane, other horses talking to each other from opposite stalls, the calls coming from the riding instructor giving lessons in the ring ... I missed it all, but there was nothing I could do now to get it back. Nothing would ever be the same.

I brushed a silent tear away as it rolled halfway down my cheek, not allowing any emotions to take over. I didn't want to feel sad all over again, because I wanted to keep my heart clean and emotionless. Thinking about all that made my heart pull tears down over my cheeks, and they flowed uncontrollably. After a few more tears I finally gave in and accepted the fact that I can't not cry when I think about my family and how they died. I then sagged down onto my knees and sobbed, drenching out my sadness until I could cry no more. I had also realised that the sun had gone down very low, almost at the edge of the horizon, which meant it was almost time to set and let the night take over. Let me start with my journey again, but this time just at night. My stomach was growling and my mouth was dry, but I pushed myself on, hoping and praying that a miracle would happen to save my life.



It felt like I was being pushed into a dark, cold corner. Even at school I felt under pressure to listen to everything the teachers were saying, but all I thought about was the fact that my father had to sell the horses. You never should've asked when we are going to train the yearlings. I wanted to kick myself, knowing that if I hadn't brought up the subject about our horses, then my father wouldn't have told me that he wanted to sell them. He probably would have told us some time, anyways, but right there and right then wasn't a good time to tell us. It was a wonderful evening full of smiles and delicious food, but then when my father said he was going to sell the horses, all of the happiness and smiles faded away.

I looked down at my workbook, really not inspired to do anything. The teacher babbled on and on, but luckily the time to go home had almost arrived. I knew it was almost time for the clock to ring and echo through the whole school, letting the kids know that it's time to go home. I couldn't wait to get out of this huge school with so many kids, who laughed at you when you walked by, or even called you weird names. I was sort of used to this by now, but today just made things worse. When the clock finally rang, I was the first one to be out of the class. The long halls seemed too long today, and I started to wonder if I would ever get out of the school. But luckily I did, with a lot of struggle. I felt somewhat claustrophobic, trying to push past all the other kids who walked in the halls, also wanting to go out of the school, just like me.

I did my best to avoid the popular girls, named Anastasia, Kathryn and Cheyenne. I almost hated them, but not as much as I hated my father for wanting to sell the horses. Coming to think of that again I walked faster, pushing past all the other kids with so much urge that I bumped into someone with a hard smack, letting their books fall out of their arms onto the ground. Other people nearly tripped over the books, and everyone stared at me. But I didn't say sorry or explain that I was in a hurry. They wouldn't have understood me anyways, if I explained to them what my situation was. I couldn't trust anyone at this school; they were too caught up by their own looks and trends, and in which cliques they were and how many boyfriends or girlfriends they had. I hated all that rubbish. I shook my head miserably and ran until I finally got outside.

The sun was very bright compared to the dim lights inside the school, but I escaped to a huge oak tree away from the big rush of kids coming out of the school. My mother used to come and pick me up at school, but sometimes I took a ride home on the legendary yellow school bus. But today I didn't feel like going anywhere; not home, not to my friend's house ... Nowhere. Not that I had any friends, anyways. I basically went through human friends like toilet paper; they were the ones who left me for a better or cooler friend, or even a snotty boyfriend. I didn't have the courage, nor the guts to go to someone and ask them what their name was. I was basically a loner, but if someone else offered to be a friend - even if it was for a short while until they found someone else - I was happy, even though it was for a very short period of time. But what I didn't like was the fact that I got so attached to people, and then they left me to struggle and to fight on my own. So I have learnt to never trust people or get attached to them with my whole heart, so just in case they left me biting the dust, I was alright.

I sat there, under the huge tree, watching all the other kids come and go, chatting to their friends, kissing their boyfriends or girlfriends, laughing and goofing around. Why am I not happy like that? Can't something interesting or exciting happen that would bring out the happy side of me? I didn't want to watch them, but it was almost like an urge inside of me to watch and see what life really can be. I have always been jealous of the people who had close friends, cliques, boyfriends or girlfriends ... But then again, I realised that they didn't have the blessing of having a whole backyard, filled with the scent of luschious green grass and hay, the sound of horses neighing at each other or the feeling of a beloved horse-friend nipping at your jeans for a tasty treat. I smiled at that thought, but my smile faded again because I then thought that it would all be gone in a few days ... All the horses sold, all the stables empty and all the wonderful feelings gone. All that would be left was the memories I have made throughout the years. Nothing else. I stifled a cry and rested my forehead on my knees, my back against the treestump. I wrapped my arms around my legs and cried like that, silently, not wanting anyone to notice what I was doing. They would surely laugh at me and say that I was a sissy-girl, crying about nearly everything in life.

"It's been an overwhelming day for you, I suppose?"

I was pulled out of my crying with the suddenness in the person's voice, which sounded like that of a young boy. I didn't make a sound, not wanting him to realise that I have been crying. I didn't want to talk to anyone now; I just wanted to be alone and cry for a little, without anyone disturbing me. My life was hard at the moment, and I didn't need anyone to complicate it even more. I just bit my lip and sniffed once, my forehead still resting on my knees. Then I slowly raised my head and looked up to find no one standing in front of me. I felt somewhat relieved, but then I felt a teeny-weeny bit of curiosity as well. I didn't know where the voice came from, but I didn't really intend on finding out, either.

I looked around me; left and right, but nothing was there. Maybe it was a voice in my head, I thought to myself, but then again, the voice in my head didn't sound like that of a boy. I raised an eyebrow at my thoughts, but then gave up on trying to solve the problem.

"Who are you? And why did you sneak up on me like that?"

I still looked around, trying to see around the tree, which was almost impossible to do because the tree stump was very wide. There wasn't a way that I could sit on this side of the tree and be able to find out what's on the other side. So the boy was supposedly hiding around the other side of the tree.

"I didn't sneak up on you. I was here before you, anyways. You were the one who escaped here and started crying." I could hear the boy's voice clearly this time, and I was definitely sure that he was on the other side of the tree. But how does he know I cried? I couldn't even hear myself! That was my first thought that came to mind after his answer. I sighed and shook my head. Or am I so used to crying that I don't hear it anymore? I then heard footsteps coming from behind me; the boy standing up and walking towards me.

I waited, until I could hear the sound of someone breathing close behind me. I lifted my head up and saw, for the first time, the owner of the mysterious voice. Tall and slim was he, his hair as red as fire. Eyes as blue as the deep ocean stared down at me, a brilliantly white smile stretching wide across his freckled face. A smile that could light up the world. For a moment I stared at him, intrigued by his appearance, but I realised that it might just look weird if I continued to stare at him, so I pulled my gaze away and stared back down at my knees. I have never seen anyone with such red hair, blue eyes and white smile. I first thought it was a hallucination or something, but when I looked back up at him he was looking at me still, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"You look..." he thought for a moment, his forehead wrinkling deep under the few strands of his red hair "You look ... concerned, and a little shocked, as well." He walked past me, and within one step he was in front of me.

I looked at him, somewhat taken aback. "What? Concerned? Nooo ..." I drifted off, but shut my mouth when I realised I was sounding rather peculiar. I felt a slight burn on my cheeks, but told myself to quit being so focused on everything that I did wrong. I smiled confidently at him, pretending that nothing had happened. "I am not concerned. I am just a little upset."

The boy looked flushed, but chuckled to cover it. "Oh, I'm sorry! I meant to say upset, not concerned. Wrong word!" It was like he was trying to apologise for what he had said, which I found rather amusing. I chuckled along with him, but just until he stretched out his hand. I didn't like touching boys, not even their hands for a hand shake. I didn't even like it when they touched me on my shoulder to let me turn around, to focus my attention on them. I stared at his hand, and then my gaze shifted towards his face.

"I'm Gilbert Clay, the tallest boy in school."

I still stared at his hand, but I made sure that I didn't look disgusted. After a few seconds of deciding what I should do, I stretched out my hand too, and we shook. "I'm Joey White, I suppose the most unhappy girl in school." I smiled at him assuringly, but I was realised that it was actually meant to assure me more than it was to assure him. "Nice to meet you." I then pulled away my hand, not wanting to cause any awkwardness. It was polite manners to keep the other person in mind when you communicated with them, letting both them and yourself feel comfortable.

Gilbert laughed at me, but when he saw my serious expression he stopped and cleared his throat, then looked down and mumbled something that sounded like a "sorry".

I smiled, comforted by the fact that he was sorry for laughing. "It's okay, really. I just don't feel very well today."

He looked at me and tilted his head. "But what's the matter? You want to share your feelings?"

I looked around. I didn't want to tell him about everything. I mean, what if he was just another one of those kids who liked to tease me? Maybe he just wanted to gather information to tell the other kids, so they could tease me about it or even judge me for being sad about 'nothing'. They never understood my feelings and emotions. I wasn't up for all that. So I stayed away from that subject as much as possible.

"I ... Uh ... Don't really want to talk about it. Sorry." I felt a little guilty, not wanting to share something with him. He seemed like a very nice guy, but I have learnt to never judge a book by its cover.

His face was expressionless. Great, look what you've got yourself into, Joey. That was my thoughts. "Don't worry, it's okay. I understand. Unlike those Puppets out there." He pointed at the three famous girls, whom the rest of the school called "The Puppets".

I laughed at his remark. "Thanks for understanding." I smiled comfortingly. I then heard a familiar car hooting and I looked around, then saw my mom's old Mercedes, the silver three-pointed-star shining brightly under the light of the sun. I let out a sigh, which nearly sounded like a grumble of disappointment. "Oh, hey, here's my mom. It was nice meeting you, uh ... Gilbert." I chuckled, then flashed him a smile. I felt happy for for some time, but when I saw my mother's expression where she looked at me from inside the car, my mood changed back again. "I guess I'll catch you again another time." I then got up and started walking away, backwards, so that I could still see Gilbert.

He smiled back at me and waved. "Bye, Joey. Good luck."