I wake up, I am on the ground, in the dirt, and I don’t know what has happened. My left cheekbone throbs and I can already feel it swelling, along with my eyelids. I look around me, and I grab hold of the cold steel rail, trying to pull myself up. I can already taste the blood in the back of my throat.
He’s standing there, looking at me. His eyes level with mine. I don’t think he understands what he has done, I don’t understand what he has done. I thought he would never hurt me, that is impossible, he has always been too sweet. He just keeps staring but he won’t come any closer and right now, I am glad of that.
Then I remember his friend, my friend, is standing behind me. He’s skittish and unpredictable at the best of times, but thankfully he is distracted. He is so much taller than him, and if he decided to make a move, I could be hurt more than I am already. The thought of that makes me gather myself and get to my feet.
I hold onto the rail, the world spins around me, and I call for help. I scream at the top of my lungs, but no one can hear me, they are too far away. As he edges closer to me, I decide it is time to get to out of there. I walk out, holding my hand to my face, blood already pooling under my skin, joining the swelling. It is silent as I wonder ‘how on earth can I explain this?’
*This story relates to an incident with a miniature pony who didn't quite see a metal gate and barged through it, hitting me on the cheek and knocking me out. Kevin and I are still friends today.