Willy | Kaytlen Bennett

The horse’s name was Willy; he was eight years old and was a race horse.
My dad chariot races horses during the winter (think of ancient Roman times) and I get the lucky job of being the workout jockey. I had ridden Willy along with the other three horses countless times throughout the late fall and now early winter. Today though was different. Willy hadn’t been raced in three weeks due to injury and today was the day to “let him out” on the track. Dad asked me if I would like to have to pleasure and of course I said yes, it had always been a dream of mine. Throughout the day nerves began to build up. I kept myself busy working with the other two horses and preparing them to race. Willy’s nerves also began to build. He knew we were at the track and he know that it meant he was going to run. By the time the other two were racing he was dancing around and already breaking a sweat.
The time had finally come. Dad walked up to me and told me to get him saddled. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking as I tightened the cinch. Suddenly he reared up and lost his balance and fell breaking the lead rope that tied him to the horse trailer. That made my nerves even worse! My dad finished put on the bridle to let me get settled down, Grandma handed me my helmet; it was time.
Dad’s friend, Nate, volunteered to ride down the back stretch of the track with me just in case. It seemed to take forever to get to the gates. When I reach them Nate told me to take Willy in a circle and then let him run because he knew what to do. We circled and then accelerated. The wind stung my face as he gained more and more momentum. I felt free. I could feel the power of the horse beneath me at its full force. It was the greatest feeling in the world.