Night Mares

They were beautiful. Mother told me that you only saw them once in a century. She kept count, as she should, she was the keeper of the Night Mares. They were black, bold and untamed creatures; the responsibility to keep them fed and cared for on that one night every hundred years passed from mother to daughter. To say that there was a buzz of excitement in the home would be a lie. Mom and I nearly jumped out of our skins when we counted the days to see the splendor and wonder of those dark night creatures. We have prepared for years to make them as comfortable as we could. Stacks of hay and oats lay in the corner of the brand new, never been used barn. Brushes and blankets stored neat and safely there. I'm sure our neighbors thought we were weird, for us to buy a farmhouse and a barn, never to be in use. It came as no bother to us however, we have always stood out no matter where we lived. We followed them you know. Followed the trail of the Night Mares, mother told me that we would know we're home is when the trail ended, when the horses finally found peace to stop and dwell for one night. The trail had stopped about three years back, in the mean time I attended school and we started to blend in. It's like no matter what we do to try to be a part of the 'normal' crowd we were always spotted. Maybe it was due to our oddly dark tanned skin, or maybe our dark long brown hair spelled to never be cut. Mother said though that the real reason we stood out was because of our eyes, they flashed colors when our emotions were in turmoil. I was never without friends, the lure and charisma that clung to our ancestral line made sure of that. Just like the fascination of the beautiful horses stopping everyone in their tracks, so we were cursed or blessed with it. It made for a line of broken hearts and clingy desperate friends. Since I never felt I made friends through my own effort I distanced myself as best as I could. I wore out of date clothing, doused myself in books and never attended social gatherings. It worked, well mostly. One person never seemed to take the hint. Part of me was grateful to have one person close enough to call a friend, while the other half hid in fear of the spell I may have over him. He was a natural follower, a natural charmer, and a natural heart breaker. He tried to woo me under his spell, but I think he fell under mine first.

One night he was over our house, once again uninvited. Mother's cooking was good enough to entice anyone though, I had to admit. He was getting more bold, the brush of his fingers or the pressing of his thighs on mine. The shivers up my back was not from cold, never had I allowed anyone this close, it was probably due to his smoldering look of confidence or his warm green eyes and dark curly brown hair that framed a strong square face. After spending time on homework, late at night when it seemed the house had fallen asleep we heard it. I knew in my heart what it was, a glance at Neil told me that he too had heard the sound. Waking up mother proved fruitless. I couldn't hide who I was any longer, the ceremonial greeting had to be done properly, and I was trained to do so. I stripped my clothes, my thick long thigh length hair flowed around me. I made my way to the barn, followed by a mesmerized Neil. Pushing open the barn doors revealed six beautiful Black Night Mares. They were huge, magnificently confident creatures. One by one I watched them bow, the beautiful heads low to the ground. I went to each of them, touched their soft muzzles and received their names. None could have been spoken in the English tongue. The night seemed bound in a never ending spell, Neil stood all night transfixed and shocked. I danced, I sang, I drank in their energy and this renewed beauty none could cherish but me. Morning came too quickly, and before a blink of the eye I once again found myself in my room, before a normal Neil and amid homework. Neil looked shocked, seeing that he had stayed all night. He left, embarrassed about the implication, seemingly not remembering the magical night. I frowned, looking down, I was dressed as I was the evening before. I walked to the window, looking out to the barn and wondered if I had dreamed such a fairy tale night.