The Race of Truth

The truth about those of us who were born to race. I am one of the voiceless ones, and this is my story.

I knew it would be the last time I'd see her as the men took her away. No one who goes with them ever returns. Perhaps I should explain. I'm a racer, a runner. Its all I ever do, all I was born to do. But once you can't race any more, like Lucy, you are never seen again. I can tell you're still confused. So I'll tell you my story, the truth this time. Not softened and suger coated like you usually hear about my kind. For this, we need to go into my past, to the day of the race. To the day my world stood still.

The gates closed around me, temperarily shutting me into the small pen. The crowds roared and cheered, anticipating a good race. My heart was pumping, shockwaves darting through my body. The race was about to start. Time slowed down, my sensitive ears picking up even the faintest of sounds around me. My heartbeat, unbelievably loud, pulsed and throbbed throughout my entire being. In the distance, a whistle blew. The gates were flung open. We were gone. 

Dust flew up behind me as I ran, letting the glorious feeling of freedom wash over me. I was home. Running was as natural to me as breathing. My legs were a blur, my body surging with life. A black shape to my left caught my eye. Lucy! We were strides ahead of the others, neck and neck with each other. We reached the final bend, a sharp, sudden curve. We panted as we ran, and as she mounted the final curve, Lucy stumbles, falling with a yelp. I couldn't stop, not without hurting myself. I crossed the line first, but didn't feel the usual rush of exhileration. I turned, and ran back to where I last saw Lucy. The other runners swerved out of my way, but I only had eyes for one. Lucy lay on her side, her foreleg at the wrong angle. There was a split at the joint, crimson shining on her skeek black fur. I lay down beside her, guarding her, my lip pulling back as people drew near. There was a murmur rushing like a wave through the crowds, talking in that strange language of theirs.

Then the men came. Grabbing my collar, they dragged me from her, then pulled her away, igniring her pain filled yelps. The crowds were yelling, some still cheering. They couldn't hear the bang, the screaming yelp, then the silence, the deathly silence emerging from the furthest tent.

Time stopped. She was gone. My friend, my ally, my sister. Blackness consumed me. I couldn't explain it. No one could take a life so quickly, and yet, I could feel it. She was gone. 

So now you see. People claim we are happy, content, safe. But they never tell you that when we can no longer safe, we are disposed of. We are dispensible. They don't care. They think we are machines, that we can run without limits. That we cannot feel pain, cannot feel anything. Thus knowledge is passed on to you. I am past racing. That day changed me. I cannot run for them. I cannot do anything. But you can. I can't change the world . I am just another machine, and now they are going to shut me down. You can save the rest. I trust you with this. The time of change is now

Author's Note

This is my first story, so any constuctive critisism is welcome. Please help me improve!

Reviews

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Nice idea. Well thought out.
I found it too short, too rushed. You could make a small chapter from each paragraph.
I would use descriptive filling to lengthen it.
Perhaps descriptions of the surroundings, maybe a flash back or two.
Good write.

[Bee]

Hello! I'm a bit new to writing too, so I don't know if I'll be of much help, but regardless, I'll tell what I think. I can tell you feel very strongly about the mistreatment and abuse of animals, as do I. I especially liked how brutally honest the story was, and the call to action at the end, challenging readers to do something about this horrible issue. The only thing I didn't like was that the story felt quite rushed, jumping from one event to the next a bit too quickly, I feel like this story should've been a bit longer. I think you could even have started the story a bit earlier, before the race, to show the horse's relationship with his sister, Lucy, a bit better, which would in contrast, make what the humans did to her even worse. You could have also drawn out the scene with the horse protecting Lucy a bit more to build up suspense and show just how much he cared for his sister. But that's just my opinion, and I'm in no way an expert here, so don't take anything I say too seriously. Regardless, I really liked your story and agree that the way many race horses as well as countless other animals are being abused is absolutely horrid and has to stop. I hope that this story helps other people realize this as well. Thank you for sharing a great first story to the world, and I wish you success in your dream of becoming an author!

[CurlyBooks]

Thank you for the advice, and the comments. I'll try to take them into account next time I am writing. I'm glad that my passion for animals and wish to stop cruel events such as racing, and the mistreatment of the animals in such events came through.