Cuts is the thing that comes to mind when I see the word hospital. It's like everything from my past just comes to light. The sight of people cutting themselves the sight of someone punching a wall or even worse another person. I see internal cuts, caused by the trauma from those closest to them. What I really see is stories. Stories of a person's life, stories that a person has hidden or at least attempted to until they finally broke.

With her back as tall as the fence Bella's head stuck over the top she craned her giraffe like neck over the fence. Pacing like a maniac Bella's anxiety about being left slowly began to take over.

It was in this moment that I realized Bella was just like me. All four of her legs were constantly moving at the same time that both of my legs were moving. Anxiety and chaos completely overtaking the two of us behind that fence.

The moment my boot was in the iron and my butt landed to sit in the saddle an overwhelming sense of peace seemed to overtake the two us. It was in that moment that I realized that Bella wouldn't leave me and the moment that Bella realized that I wouldn't leaver her.

Something almost magical happened that day in the sandy arena behind Bella's fence.

In the first few seconds of seeing the blade coming towards me I saw a flash of silver. It was in that moment that I knew I would be judged forever. It was also in that moment that I knew my innocence was gone. That scar has been with me since that silver moment. That memory has never gone away. The heaviness of the blade, the warmth of the blood, and weight of the shame that I now had to carry on my shoulders. Everything was my fault and there was nothing I could about it now. It makes me wonder how a scar feels. When someone touches it or if they can feel the heaviness of a person's stares. Do scars also feel like a burden? Do they feel insecure? Do they feel fear in that silver moment when the blade begins to create them and start their life?