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My Sweet Victory - Part 1
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The thunder of hooves as he gallops along the track. His nostrils are flared; dust explodes from his flying feet. I watched in wonder from the sidelines as he speeds by; so fast that if you blinked, you would’ve missed it. I knew he was perfect for me.
My name is Bella Clovers. I’m 18 years old, and my dream, is to become a jockey. Yes, I’m a girl. I want to show the world what female jockeys can do, what they can achieve. My trainer, Dylan Connor, an expert race horse trainer from the hills of Ireland, slammed his hand down on the stop watch, “41.32 seconds,” he gasped. I grinned, watching as the horse slowed to a gentle walk. He was a pale gray, the color of a dove’s wing, a purebred Thoroughbred, tall, lean and muscular. He held his head high and swished his tail with excitement after the thrilling pace as his jockey trotted him over to me and Dylan.
“What do you think?” asked the jockey, peering down from the horse. I glanced over at Dylan, “We’ll take him,” I stroked the stallion’s smooth neck and looked into his deep brown eyes. He was every bit beautiful and boy, did he know it. The jockey grinned, “Ok then,” he said in his strong Texan accent as he leapt off the horse, “I’ll deliver him tomorrow,”- I stopped listening to him at that point and just focused on the horse, “Did you hear that boy?” I whispered softly, “You’re going to be mine!” He rested his head on my shoulder and breathed gently. “Victory,” I breathed, “I can tell you’re going to be a champion. I’ll call you Victory.”
I’m not sure whether Victory understood at all, but at that point he started searching my pockets for treats. I sighed. Horses always seem to know exactly when you have treats. I carefully pulled out a packet of mints and offered him two. He snuffled them up quickly and looked at me as if to say “Only Two?” I sighed, “No more!” I said firmly.
“Bella,” I spun round to face Dylan, “Were you even listening?” I gazed at the ground awkwardly, “Err, sort of.” He glared at me. “No.” He sighed, “Mr Whistel said that he will deliver the stallion tomorrow.” I nodded and ignored Victory, who was trying to murder my zips. “Thought of a name yet?” I smiled, “Victory,” He nodded, “Come on; let’s get back to Blue Creek,”
Blue Creek Ranch, My parents’ ranch where we live and keep horses. The whole truck trembled as Dylan drove us down the rocky road to Blue Creek Ranch.
I smiled as we finally drove round the corner and onto the flat land that lay in front of the ranch house and barn. Dylan parked outside the ranch house and stared at me in a funny way, “Ready to enter the crazy world of racing?” “You bet,” I clambered out of the rickety old truck and headed towards the barn to tell my mom the news.
I felt like I was going to burst with joy! I was finally on track to becoming a
professional jockey. But as I stepped into the barn, something didn’t seem right. An eerie silence hung over the barn like a cloak, smothering it. Then, I heard my mom, “Bella? Is that you?” Her voice was coming from the far stall, “Yes, It’s me!” I replied, heading towards the stall. I reached it and peered over to see my mom crouched down by a pretty chestnut mare, “Its Penny!” she exclaimed, “She’s foaling!” |
 Related: My Sweet Victory - Part 1, My Sweet Victory - Part 2, My Sweet Victory - Part 3, My Sweet Victory - Part 4, My Sweet Victory - Part 5, My Sweet Victory - Part 6, My Sweet Victory - Part 7, My Sweet Victory - Part 8, My Sweet Victory - Part 9, My Sweet Victory - Part 10 - The End,
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