I Might Have Swung A Little Hard...

"It'll go easier on you if you come clean." The father looked down on his son, standing trembling against the wall.
"I didn't mean to Dad. It just kind of..."
"Kind of what, Josh?"
'Happened."
"You're lucky I'm not your mother." His father scolded, staring down at his son hard. This only made the boy tremble more. "You'd be in a lot more trouble if she were the one that caught you."
"I'm sorry Dad." The boy whispered.
"You stay here. Before you wreck anything else." Josh's father made to walk away, before turning back. "Right. There."

Josh stood frozen where he was while his father went out into the backyard. He stood in the doorway, surveying the yard. Finally, he shook his head. Along the cement porch were broken fragments of the outdoor lounge swing that he'd bought just three weeks ago as a birthday present for his wife. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he spotted the precious fairy garden statue that had once belonged to his wife's grandmother. At least Josh had managed to save that. That was something.

It was a few minutes before Josh's father returned. To Josh, he seemed even angrier than before.
"The only good I can see is that" his father stood glaring at Josh as he counted a list on his fingers.
"1, you didn't hurt yourself or kill yourself, and 2, you didn't break your mother's heirloom fairy statue."

"What's happened here?" In came Josh's mother, all guns blazing. Josh was still frozen against the wall as his mother's raging eyes found him.
"It's like a tornado hit our backyard! Except for the fact that tornadoes do not come here." His mother turned to her husband. "Garry, would you mind going and cleaning up out back? I'll handle this."
"Sure." Was all Josh's father said before he left his wife and Josh alone in the living room.
"So, Joshua, can you possibly shed some light on the subject?"
Josh was shaking and struggling not to laugh at the same time. If it had been a cartoon, his mother would have steam coming from her ears and her face would be the same shade of red as a tomato.

"Joshua!"
"Yes Mum?" Josh shrunk down a few centimetres. Based solely on his mother's tome, he was in trouble now.
"Can you tell me what happened out there."
"Well, I might have swung the swing a little hard."
"Might have? A little? Joshua, something tells me your father wouldn't be so stupid as to do such a thing. What, exactly, made you think that type of behavior was a good idea, let alone acceptable?" His mother stood in front of him, her arms folded across her chest and her foot tapping against the ground as she waited for her son to talk.
"I don't know. I wasn't thinking really."
"At least you recognize that. You are lucky you didn't hurt yourself! We could have been driving to the hospital right now!"
"Yes Mum," Josh said sincerely. "Could have been."
"Up to your room. No TV tonight, and you're going to bed early. Homework, dinner, shower, bed. Understand?"
Josh nodded and made for the stairs, relieved somewhat.
"Oh, and Joshua?"
Josh tensed up and turned to face his mother.
"The cost of the swing will come out of your pocket money. You broke it, therefore, you will be buying me a new one."

Anya

The young girl let her head fall and come to rest on her mother's shoulder."Mum, I'm scared."
"I know Sammie. But you've done this before, and you always came back in one piece." Sam's mother gently stroked her hair.
"I guess. But I'm still really nervous. Really scared."
"Don't think about that." Her mother instructed.
"How long will they be? We've been waiting here for hours!" Sam winced as another jolt of pain rushed through her.
"I don't know, but I'm sure it will be our turn soon. Why don't I tell you a story? Take your mind off things."
Sam nodded, snuggling deeper into her mother's comforting, supportive shoulder.

"I once knew a girl. We were about your age and she had medical treatments, though not as many as you." Sam was sitting straight now, intrigued.
"She was a beautiful person, inside and out. She was so positive and outgoing. Something I longed for myself, but could never quite get. Not to the fantastic extent she had anyway. She was so tough and strong. To anyone else, she seemed to be able to handle anything."
"She couldn't though, could she?" Sam guessed.
"Well, those of us close to her. Those of us lucky enough to be considered a close friend, like me saw her softer centre. In reality, she was just as worried and nervous about things as the rest of us, if not more. But she never let it show. We never saw her anxious or afraid."
"If you never saw it, if she never let it show, how do you know?" Sam asked, leaning back into her mother again.
"I knew. I could tell. Everyone gets nervous before medical treatment. Especially when its something as big as theatres. When there were treatments coming up, I worried about her, right up until I saw her again and I could see for myself that she was alright."
"It sounds like you worried more than she did Mum."
"Oh no. I worried about her, yes. But there were times she was a lot more nervous than I was. She was scared. I was merely only nervous for her. It wasn't the same."

"You're trying to tell me something here, aren't you?" Sam guessed, leaning further into her mother.
"Even though she was scared, my friend was always brave. She just gritted her teeth and did what had to be done. She was unbelievably brave. You're doing the same thing right now, Sammie with how brave you're being. I want you to keep doing exactly that."
"Mum. Your friend, what was her name?"
"Anya."
"Your best friend Anya? The one who used to babysit me when I was little and who comes over sometimes? That Anya?"
"That Anya."

Cabistado Stables

Taking small shuffling steps forward in the hallway, Brooke looked around, wide eyed with curiosity. The phrase 'the noblest conquest of man is to have gained the friendship of a horse' was printed on the far wall as part of the company's logo, underneath the picture of a horse's hoof held gently in the palm of a human hand and the name of the stables, Cabistado Stables. The name had been fabricated from the Spanish words for human, horse and friendship. Not surprising, Brooke realised, seeing as the owners hailed from Spain. Brooke had read up on the place on the internet the previous night for the thousandth time, her excitement bubbling from her like a waterfall.

Brooke's love for horses dated back to childhood and when she'd first seen 'Black Beauty' as a young four year old. Ever since then, she'd been obsessed with horses and everything about them. Growing up, she'd collected several hundred soft toy horses, various horse movies and even more books about horses. The only thing Brooke had never done was ride a horse. Her parents had always told her that she was too young just yet, and they promised that 'when she was older' they'd consider it.

Now nearing 16 and new in town, Brooke had been delighted when she'd found a friend in the form of Marlena, a young girl who loved horses every bit as much as Brooke did.
"You're joking!" Brooke said disbelievingly.
"No. My parents have stables on the outskirts of town."
"Really?" Brooke's excitement was so great she could barely contain it, although some of it did seep through in a happy beam.

"Brooke!" Marlena called excitedly. "I'm so glad you came! Excited?"
"Mum's a little skeptical but, do you even have to ask?"
"We'll take care of that. Don't you worry Belleza. Padre is very concerned about safety. It's his number one priority, and he'll be training us so your mother need not worry." Marlena explained. "Now come on, let me show you around."

Marlena finished the tour of the stables by introducing Brooke to a few of the horses. There were four grouped together. There was a pure white Andalusian, a caramel coloured palomino, a majestic looking dark Spanish Purebred and a colourfully speckled Paint horse.
"This is Brisa, Libere, Sonador and Magia. Padre said you could choose from them in terms of who to ride."

Marlena stepped back to let Brooke have a closer look at the horses. She approached each of them in turn. She noticed that Brooke spent the most amounts of time with Brisa the Andalusian horse and Sonador, the Spanish Purebred.
"I think I like Brisa and Sonador most, but from there I can't decide." Brooke turned to her friend. "What do you think Marlena?"
"Well, both are very gentle and patient. Brisa is a little more free spirited, and she can be a little wilder, though she can still be tamed. Sonador would probably be a lot more loyal and he's definitely more disciplined than Brisa."
"I really like them both, but I think I'd like to try Sonador." Brooke decided.
"Great choice, and you know what? You just made two decisions in one!"
"I did?"
"Yeah. Madre made a policy where each rider must select an extra horse, as back up if something happens to your first horse. So Brisa can be your back up."

"Who are your horses?" Brooke asked.
"I was just getting to that." Marlena went toward the caramel palomino and stroked his nose. "Libere here is my back up." Marlena lead Brooke a little way down the hallway of stables.
"This lovely boy is my horse." She extended her hand and another dark Spanish purebred came forward, nuzzling it. She gave him a scratch on the side of the head. "Milagro."

Later on that afternoon, Brooke had her first lesson. A one on one with Marlena, her horse Milagro and her father. He brought his horse Nobleza along, with whom he rode alongside the girls on the trails.
"You're a natural Brooke." He said, his deep voice rich with a Spanish accent. "You mounted very well and you made a good choice in Sonador. He is patient, disciplined and will make a very loyal companion and friend for you as you get to know each other."
"Thank you, Senor Batller."
"Please, you may call me Emanuel."

As the weeks and months went boy, Brooke developed a great relationship with both Brisa and Sonador, though her bond with Sonador was considerably stronger and her friendship with Marlena was becoming closer. Eventually, it got to the point where Brooke was hanging around the stables nearly as much as Marlena was and it wasn't long before Emanuel and his wife began to give her chores to help out.

It was then that Brooke felt she'd found her calling. With Marlena and the powerful, loyal horses they had syrrounding them, both felt they were on top of the world. Brooke could barely remember the day of her first riding lesson. Her second visit to the stables when she'd been a mixture of nerves and excitement. Now, all she felt in the stables was complete joy.

In only a short time, Brooke had come to realise the truth in the saying the Batller's had selected as the motto for their stables. 'The noblest conquest of man is to have gained the friendship of a horse.' Though it sounded silly to some, being friends with a horse was surprisingly rewarding. They were such beautiful, patient, trusting creatures and they were very affectionate and protective of those they were closest to. Unsurprisingly, Sonador seemed to be most protective of her and Milagro of Marlena. Brooke could see the same in Emanuel and his horse Nobleza. They had a strong, indestructible bond and a trust and loyalty between them that must have taken years to build. Now, the pair worked brilliantly well as a team and were a shining model of what Emanuel's students hoped to share with their horses in time and proof that just maybe, gaining the friendship of a horse could be man's greatest conquest.

Looks Can Be Deceiving

Looking around, Coralie realized she was considerably younger than her new classmates if not the youngest of the group. She pulled her pale pink suitcase along behind her, joining the rest of the group.
"Need some help there Princess?" Asked one man in a mocking tone, turning around to face her.
"No. I'm right thanks." Coralie smiled politely at him, and he turned around again. A moment later, another man turned around for a moment before starting to laugh with his friend.
"Hey look Joe. It's another one. Beauty spa's that way love!"

"That's one hundred fifty six, one hundred fifty seven, one hundred and fifty eight in ten minutes!" Officer Davison announced, a pleased grin on his face as he crouched beside a now red faced, puffing Coralie. "Good work Officer McCauley." Their teacher slapped her hard on the back. Coralie looked up at her predominately male classmates, to see most of them gawking at her, open mouthed in astonishment. Only a month into training at the accademy and Coralie was well and truly on the rise as the year's star pupil.

"There are three traffic light colours. Red, yellow and green. They signify what?" Their theory lesson that day was based around road rules and driving. Another tutor, Officer Wells, was putting them through their paces and testing their knowledge.
"Green is go, red stop, and yellow go through really fast if you're going too fast to stop."
"Good, but not quite. Anyone else." Officer Wells looked around the room at her students. "Officer McCauley?"
"Red is stop and green go. Yellow is the cautionary light. If you are going too fast too stop, go through but do so with caution. If you're well away from the lights, prepare to stop."
"Spot on. Ok, a little harder. What is the legal blood alcohol level?"
Coralie spoke up immediately. She'd been studying drink driving just the other night and the facts were fresh in her mind. "Ideally, you should have no alcohol in your system in order to drive. However, the legal limit is currently set at 0.05 BAC. In order to comply with the limit, males may drink no more than two standard drinks in the first hour followed by one standard drink per hour following. For females, one standard drink per hour is allowable."
"Exceptional Officer. Well done."

At their graduation ceremony 5 months later, Coralie's name was called midway through her classmates and she proceeded to the stage to receive her graduation certificate. "Officer Coralie McCauleu. Graduating with honours for exceptional performance in physical and academic tasks. Well done." Like her classmates, Coralie shook hands with the officer presenting the certificates.

"How'd you do it Coralie?" Asked one of her classmates. "We all thought you'd gone the wrong way and you were headed for the spa."
"I noticed."
"So? You beat all of us on the gym and you showed us up in class. What's your secret?"
"Well, lets just say looks can be deceiving, and not all blondes are dumb. AS for gym, well. What doesn't kill me makes me hotter."

True Colours

Laverne gently fingered the leaf growing from the stem of the sweet smelling flower in her family's garden. As she did so, a light rain began to fall and she stayed a moment, watching as fresh water droplets appeared on the leaf before falling to the ground, making it temporarily darker in a little circle where the drop had fallen.

Meanwhile, Cheryl, who was a few years younger than her sister was inside, practicing her magic. "Dlareme" She called, pointing her wand at a vase across the room. The particular spell was supposed to make an object fly, and allow the caster to bring it to them. But, it didn't work and the vase flew only a few metres before crashing to the grand and shattering into several broken fragments. She tried another spell, to turn a fairly invaluable object into something else. But that too malfunctioned, leaving the object half of what it used to be and half what she'd attempted to turn it into, rendering it unusable.

Cheryl screamed, throwing another vase on the ground in angry frustration, smiling defiantly at the satisfying crash as the vase hit the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. She continued to smile as she threw the half transformed object to the floor in retaliation for the spells gone awry, as if it was somehow the object's fault.

Laverne walked into the room, seeming to glide as she made her way over to her sister, carefully dodging the broken vase pieces on her way. She put a calm hand on Cheyl's shoulder and smiled.
"It's alright."
Cheryl glared at her sister, her face red with the tension coursing through her body.
"Alright?" She asked. "What do you mean 'alright'? In what way is this," Cheryl gestured at the two piles of broken vases and the half transformed object on the floor. "Alright?"
"Well, we can easily fix that." She said, gesturing at the half transformed object. "And as for that, well, we can clean that up easily."
"You mean you can." Cheryl retorted.

For years, it went on like that. Cheryl was always being outshone by Laverne, who seemed to have a natural talent for magic. One day though, Laverne's life began to fall apart. Her engagement was called off and she was left with nothing. She hadn't yet managed to establish a career and her social life was a scandal after her break up.

Hunter had been Laverne's best friend since childhood but little did she realize, he'd had a secret crush on her that dated back to their teenage years. In the midst of her rage, Hunter was caught in the crossfire of a spell she'd cast, vert, which transformed one object into another and also worked on people. She'd meant to cast it on something inanimate, but Hunter had got in the way and so the spell had instead been cast upon him.

Cheryl had arrived at just the right moment and tried to reverse the spell. Unfortunately, she pronounced the counter spell slightly wrong and as a result, the original spell was only half reversed. Growing up, Cheryl had never really liked Hunter, instead, she was always jealous of the friendship he had with Laverne, and not with her.

Now, a Frankenstein of sorts, Hunter fled, believing Cheryl had cursed him for being friends with her sister and he was never seen again. This was the point at which things for Laverne started to look up. She got a job as the assistant of the town mayor and her social status within the community rose once again.

Before long, things were the way they'd once been. People kept their distance from Cheryl, shuddering when they saw her and trying desperately not to be noticed. Laverne meanwhile was always stopped so the townspeople could give her compliments and tell her how great she was. She had many friends.

But soon, Laverne newly regained power got to her head. She began using her popularity and the influence her position as the town mayor's assistant gave her to spread terrible rumors of her sister. "Did you hear what she did to that poor young man?" A woman asked, whispering to her friend on a street corner. "He turned that innocent young man into a monster!"
"Hey look!" Whispered the woman's friend urgently. "There she is now!" She pointed with a shaky finger toward Cheryl, who stood on the opposite side of the road, waiting to cross.
"Don't make eye contact." The first woman warned. "She might turn us into stone!"
"Or worse." Her friend shuddered.
'You shouldn't let statements like that bother you.' Cheryl recited over and over in her head, an attempt to keep herself calm.

As she walked across the road, Cheryl shook her head at the two woman who had been gossiping about her. They were now running in the opposite direction, most likely fearing for their lives. As she continued along the path, she noticed a small young boy hiding under a public bench. She knelt down and smiled at him. He began to cower and was near tears with fear.
"It's alright. I won't hurt you." She said gently. "You look hungry. Here you go." Carefully, Cheryl pulled a piece of bread from her shopping bag and held it out to the little boy, who shuffled back, pressing himself against a bench pole.

Continuing to smile, Cheryl reached back into her shopping bag. This time, she pulled out a small paper bag and set it on the ground, placing the bread atop it and pushing it toward the boy. She backed away a fraction and watched as the boy cautiously reached out to take the piece of bread and took a few tiny bites before hungrily eating what remained.