See that stallion over there? That one trudging behind? The one limping?
Now it tags along in the old pastures, not daring to move on. It once was in the center of the herd. It never used to limp. It used to sail across vast and open prairies.
But there it is now, broken.
It once had more sprit than all the others combined, still does. But now it is rarely acknowledged or listened to. It has become a shadow of what it once was.
The horse grows weary, barely moving with its slow limp. Its bones look like they feel old and creaky before their time, prematurely aged by the wounds it has had to bear.
It once was the center of attention, but now it lingers in the background. Fading into nothingness.
A broken stallion.
See that girl there? The one trudging behind on her journey of life, unsure of whether to stay in the past or if she can handle the future? The one with the limping heart?
If you looker closer into her eyes you can see the unshed tears in their gray color. She never cries. But her eyes are full of the tears she should have cried. Tears to pay for that once abundant laughter.
She watches that stallion, while carrying her own human load of guilt. The kind of guilt that had almost destroyed her: the guilt of misplaced trust. The knowledge that the one she loved most betrayed everything he had once loved, herself included. That he was not ever coming back.
Still the pearly drops never fall from her eyes. She keeps them locked up inside, slowly shutting out humanity. Her soul is slowly shriveling up. She has never really started life, but it has used her. It has broken her.
She is a broken girl.
That stallion and girl are both outcasts from society, from those they love, from hope, from friendship, from everything they once cared for. The horse was wounded in the leg, but the girl was wounded in her soul. Both wounds made them prematurely aged. You can see it in the limping of the horse, and in the eyes of the girl. Life has marked and branded them both by its balanced cruelty. It has left its scars.
Life has broken them both.
A/N If you read this thoroughly you should have guessed it was some girl who loved Sirius. You are right! I haven't made given this girl a name or character, she is whoever the heck she is. I don't think it matters.
I actually thought out a similar fic about myself in PE class when I was lagging behind everyone else. I wrote this in math class during a test. The weird things you can do in Dr. Price's 7th and 8th grade Algebra 1 class….
Well, if you want to know, today (March 11) is my birthday. So I'm hoping for a lot of reviews as a birthday present!!!
By the way, I used to be just plain marzoog, but I added the gnome girl. My friends call me that.
Hope you have a great day!!
The Minnesotan in England
aka Miz Thang
aka Cinderella
aka Mr. Zell-daddy-in the house
aka
@@@gnome girl aka marzoog@@@
PS. REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!
