It begins with one touch, one breath... <3

by Chloe Ann

The slight aroma of boiling noodles filled the air as I walked into the kitchen, which was painted a dark tangerine color and had many pictures on the wall. Mom slaved over the stove stirring our dinner and trying to text dad. My slightly curly dark brown hair was in a high ponytail, and I wore red converse, black jodhpurs and a striped red sweater that was a bit big for my slender frame.

Mom spotted me as I sat down at the large wooden table that sat in the far corner of the room.

“Good evening, Willow.” She said, a large smile quickly appearing on her gleaming face. Mom was one of the most beautiful women I had ever met. She had bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, a slender face, and was pale with light blonde hair. No wonder dad fell in love with her. The woman was practically a model.

She finished boiling the noodles and added last minute touches to make them perfect.

“Hey.” I replied. She placed a plate in front of me on the table, and sat down with a plate of her own.

“Your father is almost home.” Mom said as if she were counting the minutes until his arrival.

I nodded and scooped up a forkful of noodles, shoving them into my mouth.

Dad arrived ten minutes later, with a broad smile on his face. I had more of dad’s features than of mom’s. I had dad’s dark hair and brown eyes. I only had a slender frame and face from mom. But I loved them both equally. Dad sat down without making himself a plate. “What do you want for your birthday, Willow?” Dad asked, placing his strong hands on my thin shoulder.

“I would like a horse.” I said, almost instantly.

Mom and dad looked at each other and never said anything else. I felt bad for the rest of the night. After dinner, I rushed to my room and wrapped myself up in a large pink blanket. Mom and dad’s room was right next to mine, and the walls weren’t very thick, so I could hear most of the conversation they were having.

Dad: “…I think she should have one…”

Mom: “… Give me one reason why she should…”
Dad: “… Responsibility…”
I began to doze off after that and didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation.

I woke up the next morning to the loud sound of a sputtering truck. Dad must be working on the truck again. I took a shower and dressed in my usual converse which were now blue, jodhpurs that were white and a blue and black sweater. I walked out of the house, screen door closing behind me, and began to rush toward the garage.

As I approached, I noticed that dad was under the car. He slid out from under it as he saw me. “Hey,” He said.

I waved, and he said, “The truck is fixed.”

I smiled, and he motioned for me to climb in. I did so and he moved his supplies out of the way before climbing in himself. He started the car when he was in, and began to drive down the driveway.

Soon, we were driving down a small road where many stores sat, waiting for something to happen. Dad turned right into the parking lot of one of the stores, which, now that we were close to it, wasn’t a store, but an adoption centre. The car came to a stop and dad and I climbed out, pushing opened two large barn doors.

A wooden desk was located at the front of the centre, where a petite old woman sat, reading a book. She looked up as I approached, and closed her book.

I gave a warm smile, and she smiled back.

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