The Watcher Chapter 2

Chapter 2

And so it was the beginning of my life ended with the death of my grandfather. It was a bleak, cold end. I awoke that Sunday morning to complete quiet. I looked for him in his room and in the kitchen, but it was on the porch that I found him. Sitting in his rocking chair, smiling, his dead body greeted me with a shock that my life had suddenly changed forever. I remember sitting there with his body for awhile, softly crying, numb with pain. I tortured myself with memories of his smile, the crinkles around his eyes, the time we had spent together. I cried harder in self-pity, knowing I now had no one. Neither of my parents wanted me, or could care for me if they did. I had no friends, no close family, and my future could not be the life I had come to love.
After hearing the neigh of the horses , I ran to the barn to feed and then stumbled into the house and began to make the calls. It was not long until cars started filing up the hill, some I knew, many neighbors, all looking at me with sympathy, sometimes awkwardly patting my back when they had no words to use. The cars and people came and went, even after Grandfather's body was gone. I yearned for Jasmine, a familiar face who would have made me feel at ease, but she never came. I looked through Grandfather’s books to find her phone number, but it was not to be found. When I asked those who visited about Jasmine no one seemed to know who she was. They looked at me a bit strangely, perhaps believing my grief was making me delusional.
Our little kitchen was filled with food, and to my dismay family I knew, and many I didn't, began going through our things, his and mine. They smiled at me, trying to make their eyes sad, but I felt their greed. My anger rose that evening when the attorney arrived and read the will. Everything was left to me, and the family was furious. This "family" who never came to see him, never called or wrote, were now ready to fight me for my grandfather's things, my home.
The very sad part of it all was there was very little there to fight over. Some had thought perhaps there would be money hidden in the house, or my late grandmother's jewels. However, nothing was ever found. The only things of value was the land and the animals. They began calculating how much they could sell the cattle for, and the horses. Up until this point, I had said nothing. My numbness had been the barrier that stilled my anger and kept me silent. When I heard the horses mentioned, however, I hissed,
"You will not sell our horses!" I must have looked quite mad. I had not spoken a word up until this point, nor had I wept since finding my grandfather's body. My anger boiled to the point that I must have looked deranged.
I was informed that I was a minor, that I could not make these decisions. At seventeen years of age, it would be another year at least before I could legally make decisions regarding my grandfather's estate. The family had already agreed that cousin Michael, the father of the idiot Charles, would "take me on" and handle everything. As my guardian, he could buy and sell whatever he chose. And the horses, all the horses, would be sold. I would move in with him and his family in Charleston.
While a torrent of emotions swept over me, I kept my face impassive. My mind raged at the injustice, while my heart ached in the agony of my loss and the loss to come. Losing Grandfather seemed unbearable, but to lose Epona too? How could I continue to exist with the only two things I loved in my life gone? I would shrivel and die living in the city.
As I lay in bed that night, hearing whispers through the crack in the door as the family schemed, I made up my mind I would not lose Epona. I would not be shuffled around by this group of people who did not love me, or my grandfather. I remembered my grandfather's words when I would throw tantrums as a child, "Be SMART Morgan. Follow your heart, but use your head while you're doing it." Wise words from a wise man. I would take his advice, and carefully plot my escape from this nightmare I had been thrown into.
Even as his casket was laid into the ground, and the first shovel full of dirt was throw in behind it, my mind was racing with the thoughts of my escape and what I would do with my life. I had already laid to
peace the loss of my beloved grandfather, and now it was time for me to think of myself. After all, I had no one else. My best interest was not in anyone's thoughts or hearts. Jasmine was gone, and at times I wondered if I had imagined her. It had become my mission in life to make a new road for myself, a road far from these people who would destroy it.
I had read about young people filing for emancipation from their parents or guardians. But these people would never allow me the opportunity unless I could get as far away as possible first. I needed to get as far away, as quickly, as possible and find a job and a place to live. Once I had saved enough money, I could gain my emancipation and go on with my life.
To say I was naive would be a huge understatement. Were it not for my grandfather's estate, they would perhaps not have looked too hard for me. But Michael could not presume to handle the estate of an absent minor. For that reason, I was needed, although it was a hollow need. I also did not understand the impossible task of getting a job, living on my own and gaining my emancipation. Had I attempted such an endeavor, I believe the outcome would have been bleak.
These things would never come, but I will explain that later. First, I will relate the events of my escape. I quite innocently made many trips to the stable, with the excuse of spending my last moments with the horses before they were sold, and each time hid the things I would need and brought them to the barn. In only a few trips, I had carried canned food, utensils and a pan, flashlight and batteries, and an extra change of clothes to the barn and hid them in my saddle bags. After I had everything I could use stuffed into the saddle bags, I had to begin my deception.
On the morning after Grandfather's funeral, after everything was ready, I approached Michael with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip. He look up at me over his spectacles with surprise; after all, I had shown very little emotion up until this point. He had been sitting at the kitchen table going over even more paperwork, nibbling the end of his pencil, with great concentration. He was a large man, with a huge hairy mustache that must have made up for his balding head. I had always thought him to not only look bland, but to be bland in personality as well.
I did not let my opinions of him show on my face, however. Instead, I hugged him as if I loved him dearly, and began weeping into his arms as he awkwardly hugged me back in dismay. I made myself almost incoherent as I babbled about losing Grandfather, and how kind he was to take me in, and how much I would miss the horses. After a few minutes of this charade, I looked pleadingly up into Michael's eyes and begged, "Could I PLEASE take one last ride on Epona before she is sold?".
It went much easier than I would have thought. He quickly agreed, mostly because I was making him so uncomfortable with all the hugging. With his assent, I ran into the room, grabbed my jacket, and was running out the door. I would never return.

I raced into the barn and straight to Epona's stall. Wrapping my arms around her neck and hiding my face in her soft mane, I whispered "Let's get out of here, girl." She looked at me quietly as I hurriedly saddled her, but after I had led her outside and mounted, as if agreeing with my urgency, we were off at a dead run. We raced through the field by the house until we came to the edge of the woods. From there we slowed, following a trail my Grandfather and I had often ridden together. This trail could quickly lead us down off of the hill and up and over the next, which would quickly take us into the next county.
We walked through the trees and for the first time I felt myself taking a deep breath and relaxing. Now that my plan was in action, an immense relief had flooded over me. The home that had brought me so much peace had become a dark and unbecoming place after the death of Grandfather. I felt no sadness at leaving it, because it would never be the same again. Instead, a sense of adventure had taken over me. My youthful exuberance for life, and my hopes for good things to come, expelled all the tormented feelings I had been harboring.
I knew I could be gone until dark before anyone became too concerned. It was early afternoon when we set out, and three hours later we had travelled far enough that I knew we were in the next county. We followed railroad tracks along the river from there. I was no longer in familiar territory, and only hoped that I could stay hidden for the next few days as we continued to travel. With dusk approaching, we began to climb uphill, following an atv path. At the top we found a small clearing and finally stopped for the day.
After untacking Epona and tying her where she could graze, I built a small fire and heated a can of soup. Epona pricked her ears occasionally as I sat there talking to her about all my plans. She walked over and stood over me as I lay down on the leaves and pulled my jacket over me like a blanket. It was the end of summer, and the nights were getting cooler as autumn approached. The warmth of the fire and the sound of Epona's gentle breathing finally warmed me, and I drifted off into sleep.
A dream invaded my sleep that night. In this dream I saw only eyes...very black eyes peering into my soul. I tried to draw back to examine the face that held these eyes, and stepped back far enough to see it was a young man with very handsome features and a searing expression. His lip was curled into a faint but ominous smile.
A couple hours before dawn, the sound of Epona's snorting woke me. I jumped up immediately and tried to slow my startled breathing to listen. Visions of my dream quickly dissipated when I heard an atv approaching. I looked down over the hill and saw the lights. Quickly kicking out the fire, I pulled the bridle over Epona's head, grabbed my saddlebags, and quietly as possible we trotted off into the night, leaving my saddle behind. Being so far away, I hadn't expected them to find me the first night. Of course, building a fire hadn’t help me any either. Silently cursing my own stupidity, I stroked Epona's neck reassuringly as we made our way through the trees. Although it was a clear night, and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could not find a trail. Branches tugged at my clothes and slapped at Epona as we desperately tried to make our way. The sound of the atv's seemed closer, and I was sure they had found my campsite.
The descent off of the hill seemed to take hours, and I was covered in scratches when we stepped off onto a dirt road. I didn't want to follow any roads, for fear of being found, but I also didn’t want to tackle another tree-covered hillside. So I urged Epona into a canter and hoped for daylight. I quickly realized this was an old logging road, which meant we wouldn't pass any houses until we came upon a main road. To my delight, the logging road started up another hill, which would give us coverage in the night and an easy path.
Daylight was just approaching when I first saw him. At the edge of a cliff, just a few hundred yards ahead of us off from the road, stood a horse. Epona nickered in her own surprise, and a deep reply followed. A mist surrounded the black stallion, but as I looked closer I made out the figure of a man standing next to h im, his arm resting on the stallion’s shoulder as he stared right at us. I strained my eyes as we approached him. Epona was prancing in excitement, and I tugged at the reins to keep her focused. The horse snorted at us, and then both he and the man were gone. I blinked, even rubbing my eyes, as I searched for them. There was no sound--no birds singing their morning songs, no breeze wafting at the leaves, nothing. Just silence, and the mist. I rode up to the spot where they had stood and looked at the ground. Then my eyes travelled over the rock ledge next to us. Epona continued to prance, almost frantically looking for the white horse we had only moments before encountered.
I tried to pull her away, but her moving feet inched closer and closer to the ledge of the cliff. For the first time ever, I was afraid while riding Epona. She was moving dangerously close to the cliff edge, and my stomach clenched in fear as I tried to urge her away to safety. I pulled her head in the other direction, using my legs to move her body, but then she began to back toward the cliff, seeming more and more agitated. As I felt one of her back feet edge off of the side of the cliff, I used all my power to urge her body forward. And finally, succeeded.
I began to breathe again as Epona grudgingly moved away from the edge of the cliff. We walked a few yards away, back to the road, and that is when my instinct decided my fate. Unable to resist, I turned her once again facing the cliff, to take one last look for the man and his horse. And when I did, Epona charged. Almost jumping out from under me, she leaped into the air at a full gallop straight for the cliff. I screamed, falling foward against her neck and losing the reins. And in a moment, in a split second moment, she leaped over the edge of the cliff. From the moment all her legs had left the ground and I felt us starting to fall, everything went black and I knew nothing.