My Worst Fall.

I was eleven.
Or maybe I was twelve.
I don't remember.
I had been training a horse who was hott off the race tracks.
Again.
I was twelve.
His name was Bear.
He was a beautiful bay thoroughbred.
It had been a full month of training when we went to our first schooling show.
Little did I know, it would also be our last.
Bear and I were quietly warming up for dressage.
He was not the only horse I was showing on that day and
I recall telling my friend Emma that "I just want to get through the show."
I didn't care if I won.
I knew I was showing Bear solely for his experience.
There happened to be a noisy truck and trailer barreling towards the warm-up arena.
I remember looking down at Bear beneath me, and I remember him taking a step backward.
And that's all I can remember...
Here's what I was told:
Bear was rearing.
I didn't have any control.
Then!
Bear lost his balance and started to tip backwards.
He "curled up into a ball" and fell straight back on top of me.
My mother saw Bear running back towards the barn with a fellow rider galloping after him. 
My mom said, "She's gonna get back on this horse!"
But the rider who ran back with the horse told her otherwise.
I can't imagine the fear my mother must have felt when she found me on the ground shaped like a pretzel and saying nonsensical words.
I was rushed to the hospital.
God was surely looking after me. 
I came home later that day, extremely sore, but nothing broken.
Not even a bruise.
The worst part was that the doctor said I couldn't ride for two weeks.
Longest two weeks of my life.