The scorching summer sun preyed on our riders with an ominous glow; sweat dripped off of them as we moved forward along the dirt road. Our riders swayed side by side on our backs, shouting curse words every now and then as the dreary summer heat steadily enraged their already raging hearts. While these two humans whined and squealed like two animals, Pegasus and I compliantly trotted forward. My muscular legs glided across the dirt road. My steps were broad and well-defined. Meanwhile, my brother Pegasus trotted precariously. His scrawny short legs seemed to tremble with each step. I made sure to trot slower than normal so our riders would not whip my little brother for being too slow. As a result of my actions, Pegasus managed to trot at a relatively steady pace and was able to follow alongside me. The dusty road we traveled through was barren, but the path was surrounded by beautiful, golden Kansas wheat fields.
“Tate, we need to hurry up. It’s almost noon. We will get disqualified from the horse race.”
“Don’t tell me to hurry up! This sluggish horse is as irritatin’ as the damn relentless sun… I swear this horse is almost as irritatin’ as you!”
“Ha! No wonder dad gave you the dumb horse. You know what they say: a dumb horse can only be ridden by an equally dumb rider. Don’t worry, we trained Pegasus well. Although he trots slowly, he gallops almost as fast as Sparkplug.”
“Almost as fast as your idiot mind. If Pegasus loses this race, I will tell dad to give him a good whipping, and I will make him gallop day and night.”
I looked at my little brother Pegasus, who was trotting alongside me. His ears perked up when he heard his possible punishment. His dreamy eyes became large and resonated with fear. I looked directly into his eyes and told him not to worry. Although I hated seeing humans forcefully and inhumanely training him to gallop faster, I admit that Pegasus has slightly improved his speed because of his training. Our riders’ dad, Christopher Hayward, loved to abuse us with never-ending whip lashes to try to make us gallop faster. My brother, whose rugged slow movements often irritated Mr. Hayward, received this punishment often. His wounds changed his genuine appearance; his original soft brown hair became jagged, crusty, and hardened.
Oh how my mom had loved Pegasus’ soft brown hair! I bet if she saw Pegasus’ now beaten-down hair, she would ferociously neigh and use her powerful legs to try to kick and kill everyone in the Hayward family. However, there is no place here for a moral creature like her. Karma is now up there in the blue sky, galloping in the clouds.
Winchester was our dad. He was a short horse, but he was not a weak horse. He had a bulky build and could gallops endlessly. He trained tirelessly; in fact, it seemed that he was almost content with his rigorous daily training for horse races. His bulky muscles could resist all physical pain. The Hayward family used Winchester to compete in the horse races; the Hayward family would win first or second place when Christopher Hayward or his older son Tyson rode him.
Although not as fast our dad, our mom Karma also competed in the horse races and was not sluggish; she never came in last place. Our mom was a hard worker who never neighed when in pain. She never whined about training endlessly; but, when I looked deep into her large eyes (just like the one’s Pegasus has), I saw confusion: a deep confusion filled with physical and mental pain. A confusion that should not belong in Kansas: a land so picturesque. Her confusion with the beautifully repulsive world would later lead to her death.
The day my parents died was February 17. Three years ago. Karma and Winchester had trained endlessly the entire year to compete in the horse race finals on February 17. Every day of that year was rigorous; they almost never walked. Meanwhile, spoiled Pegasus and I were galloping in the open fields of Kansas.  We neighed with genuine delight every night as we disappointedly trotted back into stalls to impatiently wait for the next adventurous day out in the Kansas open fields. As we settled down in our stalls, we were always astonished when we saw the insensitive faces of our parents as they, finally, walked into their stalls and settled down to get some sleep. I used to wonder what they were thinking about under those insensitive faces; I wondered what they were thinking about during the dreadful training days. I could not imagine what they were thinking. Pegasus and I did not realize that in a world so physically beautiful could coexist with a world so chaotic and vile. Now that I think about it, maybe we realized it, but we did not believe it…
On February 17, 2012, the starting gates opened. However for our mom, the ending gates opened. As the starting gates for the horse race opened, Winchester and twenty three other horses, along with their riders, burst out from the starting gates and galloped towards the finish line. However, the twenty fifth horse and rider was nowhere to be found. As I stood with my owner in the audience, I finally saw that the twenty fifth horse and rider were still at the starting gates. The horse was peacefully lying on her legs; her eyes were shut. The rider sat on top of the seemingly sleeping horse, confused and scratching his head. The rider was Tyson. The horse was my mom. She either died from exhaustion or, as I would prefer to think of it, she decided to dream off into a world where she could freely gallop in the open fields.
Winchester neighed ferociously. He shrieked and neighed endlessly when he saw his wife, Karma, dead at the starting gate. He went berserk and started galloping all over the race track before trying to turn around to gallop towards Karma. Since he was originally ahead of all the other horses, his berserk movements caused chaos among the other horses and riders. Christopher Hayward, who was riding Winchester, was furious. He grabbed the reins and used all his strength to prevent Winchester from turning back to go see his dead wife. Winchester tried to twist and turn out of Christopher’s vile grip, but it was useless. He could only move forward. However, his mind would never move forward again. His bulky muscles slowly trotted towards the finish line, finishing in last place. Christopher swore like a madman and, in front of everyone, grasped a whip and started whipping Winchester. Winchester neighed and neighed. He neighed nonstop. As he was dragged back to the farm, his mind was already elsewhere. His bulky muscles could resist all physical pain; however, there is always a limit for mental pain.  Back at the farm, Christopher Hayward yelled at his son Tyson for not taking good care of Karma. He blamed Tyson for letting Karma die and distracting Winchester. But finally, he blamed Winchester for everything he blamed Tyson for. He did not give Winchester food that night; he did not give him anything to drink; he gave him a few lashes and left him alone in the stall. Pegasus and I slowly trotted up towards our father’s stall at night. His eyes were half open. He could not communicate with us. He didn’t even look at us. I don’t think he could see anything at that moment. He just lay sprawled out on his legs, waiting for nothing. In fact, he had become nothing. Pegasus and I stood by his stall, and watched our father close his half open eyes for the last time. He simply closed his eyes and did not exist in the fluctuating chaotic world anymore.
To keep up with the Hayward family tradition of owning champion race-horses, the Hayward family trained Pegasus and I for the next horse race. Therefore, the day our parents died was the day Pegasus and I lost our freedom. Pegasus and I had moved into a chaotic coexisting world: a world filled with potential happiness permanently blocked by dreadful circumstances. As Pegasus and I trained day and night in the dull Hayward farm, we looked longingly at the Kansas open fields. The beautiful fields Pegasus and I used to roam had become a scenery that could never be reached; they had become foreign places. Tate and Tyson forced us to train day and night to become as fast as our parents. Kansas’s majestic beauty disappeared, and in its place came darkness. We ran until our legs gave out and our hooves throbbed from pain. We galloped into darkness, and we were not sure if we would ever see light again.
Pegasus’s fragile build made him vulnerable to the burdensome training. While the harsh training made me grow bulkier and gallop faster, the training caused Pegasus to shrivel up into a wrinkly, tired horse. The Hayward family did not like this. Enraged by Pegasus’s weak appearance, Christopher Hayward grabbed his whip and punished Pegasus. Pegasus’s innocent soft brown hair became crusty and dark brown, tainted by the vile world. He became even more unfit for the horse race. As the years went by, Pegasus atrophied into an embodiment of mere exhaustion. Contrary to my frail brother, my training paid off, and I was ready to become a champion. However, I was anxious the Hayward family would punish Pegasus for not doing well in the race.
While I adjusted to this cruel dark world, Pegasus still dreamed of the bright world we used to live in. He was not ready to move onto this horrid world. In a sense, his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness, and he stumbled around in fear looking for a way out of the never ending dark tunnel.
The starting gates burst open. Pegasus and I galloped towards the finish line. Tyson sat on top of me, screamed with adrenaline, slapped my back, and shouted at me to gallop faster. I heard his command, but continued to gallop on with ease; I did not need to go faster because I was already ahead of the other racers. While galloping, I looked around frantically for my brother and noticed that he was in third place. Third place was good enough; the Hayward’s would not punish him for getting third place. I neighed a sigh of relief and galloped a bit faster. Suddenly, I heard an ear-piercing neigh from behind me and an animalistic gasp from the audience. I stopped galloping. I looked behind me and saw Pegasus sprawled on the floor, neighing in pain; Pegasus had tripped and a bone penetrated out from his legs. He was bleeding profusely. Tate had fallen off Pegasus and lay still on the ground. Tyson snuck a quick glance at the scene, cursed at me and commanded me to continue galloping. Although Tyson had a firm grip on my reins, I was able to ignore his grip on my reins. I turned around and started galloping towards my injured brother; Tyson pulled out his whip and started whipping me, angrily trying to convince me to turn back around and finish the race. The audience gasped at Tyson’s cruelty but did nothing to stop him. It seemed as if everyone was lost in the darkness and unsure what was morally right and wrong; we were searching for a nonexistent light in a dark, dark world.
Everyone was quiet as I stood next to Pegasus and brushed his bloody injury with my muzzle, trying to bring him some comfort. I looked into his eyes, which were large and resonating with fear.
As I stood there looking in utter disbelief at my poor brother, Tyson sighed , and whipped me one last time before, after some contemplation, jumping off my back to see if his brother Tate was dead. Tyson walked towards Tate and kicked him in the stomach. Tate started yelping in pain. Tyson ignored him, walked back towards me, and jumped on my back. Tyson sat motionlessly on my back with his arms crossed and a deep frown spread out on his putrid face. He was probably thinking about how his dad would punish him for not winning the horse race.
Pegasus’s eyes were wide open, bloodshot, and calling for help. He glanced pleadingly at me; I tried to think of way of soothing him, but the best I could do was caress his injury with my muzzle, trying to calm him down...
I wondered what his bloodshot eyes saw. Maybe, just maybe, he did not see his bloody injury. Instead, he saw a dim light: a light so real that it shocked his eyes wide open. A genuine light he had not previously seen in this dark world. A light Karma and Winchester saw as they shut their eyes for the last time. He saw the dim light in his mind and he was racing towards it. He saw the exit to the dark tunnel.  He galloped as fast as he could, faster than he has ever galloped. His scrawny legs transformed into fierce muscular legs. All his injuries suddenly healed. His dark, crusty hair fell off as he galloped, and innocent brown hair took its place. His eyes became calm and looked confident. He was about to reach the light. He was about to step off the dirt road and roam freely across the open fields. He was about to leave the dirty cruel world and join Karma and Winchester in the beautiful wheat fields.

Pegasus closed his eyes.