Survival

Part 47: Valerie

I stared out the window of my bedroom intently, my head propped against the head of my window-side bed. In the paddock outside I watched Ginger, my young stock horse mare, as she swished her tail and closed her eyes blissfully, enjoying the midday sun on her chestnut coat. Rays of golden light spilled into my bedroom through the large, open window and dripped onto the green bedspread that I was lying on top of. I could smell the musty, leathery scent of horse on the cool breeze that gently drifted through my window, waving the widely parted orange curtains in gentle ripples. From my stereo in the corner Silverchair was playing brightly.

My nose tickled and I sneezed, bringing a stabbing pain to my aching throat and tears to my eyes. I had been bedridden with glandular fever for almost a week and it still didn’t appear to be abating. A cold wave ran through me and I crawled back under the blanket, praying for my sore body to warm quickly as I shivered in the soft bed.

With a sniffle I reached beside me and felt around for my laptop. For perhaps the tenth time that day I opened the computer and brought up my Tumblr dashboard. Music, art, pointless humour and a little bit of soft gay porn from that one friend you don’t have the heart to unfollow was displayed before me. I added some Slayer album covers to my queue and stared at my blog, disheartened at my minimal number of followers. Only 430? What is this?

My phone buzzed. I unlocked it quickly, desperate for something to ease my boredom.

“School’s out. Are your parentals home?” It was from Jeordie. I smiled.

“Nope. They won’t be back for another two hours or so. Why?” I texted back quickly, my fingertips drumming the touch screen of my Samsung rapidly.

“I’m coming round.” The reply came instantly with a loud ‘ding!’.

“But I’m sick.”

“Yeah and?”

With a soft click I locked my phone again and slid it onto my bedside table. I pushed the blanket off my bare legs (any excuse to be naked) and slowly swung my feet around off the bed. My toes touched the floor and I gradually got to my feet. A wave of fatigue rushed over me, despite the fact I had slept for 12 hours already. I sighed.

Unsteadily I toddled across my carpeted floor to the wardrobe and pulled on a loose tie dye sundress that hid how much weight this illness had stripped from me.

I sat back down on my bed and rubbed my face wearily.

Jeordie arrived in the space of half an hour since he first texted. First I heard the paddock gate creak open, followed by the heavy drumming of his huge Shire horses’ hooves as it cantered across the dry field. Of course. I leaned out the window, cautious of my compromised balance. Jeordie was standing in the stirrups with one hand in the horses black and white mane and the other clutching the reins. He cantered a few circles, waving both hands around as if to welcome an adoring crowd. Show – off. With a bright whinny Ginger trotted to Jeordie’s horse and cantered after it. In contrast to the huge coldblood’s heavy gait my stock horse looked like she was dancing across the ground.

My best friend reined to a halt right outside my window and slipped out of the saddle. His horse promptly slipped away from him with surprisingly cheeky agility and went to sniff noses with Ginger.

“What’s up Val?” Jeordie asked me cheerfully and leaned against the windowsill casually. His hair was windswept and he was still wearing school uniform.

“What do you think is up? I feel like death.” I replied croakily, feeling my throat protest.

“Looks it.” He teased and made a cross with his fingers, holding it out infront of him as if to ward away a demon.