by Olivia B
(Ohio, USA)
The day I found out I was moving to Michigan, I wasn't very happy. I tried to protest, but my mom wouldn't take it as anything. "Graceyn," she simply said, "We're moving. It will be better for all of us. Plus, you will go to a new horse stable and find a new horse there, and you'll face new challenges with them. Won't that be great?" But, I didn't find a spark of anything great with that. I didn't want to leave the hot-weathered-and-beaches, beautiful California or my prizewinning Arabian gelding, Mixer, that I rode at my stable, Clacker Cove. Mixer and I had clicked the moment I met him, three years ago, when I moved onto intermediate lessons to advanced riding lessons. I decided the only thing to do was go to the stable and ride Mixer for one of the very last times.
When I arrived at the stable, I wasn't as glad or excited as I would have been if I wasn't moving to go there. Mixer poked his head out of his stall. I walked over to him and stroked his beautiful bay head. I couldn't believe that just this weekend, I wouldn't ride Mixer anymore. I kissed his velvety muzzle and walked to get his tack. As I saddled him up, I felt a flash of anxiety through me. Nevertheless, I mounted on my beautiful horse and rode to the jumping arena. "Graceyn! You're here!" my best friend, Lauren, called. "So, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the tack shop with me on Saturday night-" I started crying as Lauren spoke to me about Saturday. "Graceyn? What's wrong-" "Nothing, Lauren. Nothing." I replied, wiping away my tears.
But there was really something.
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You might know me from the "This is Violet" stories. I hope you like these as much as you liked those!:) Comment for part 2.
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The day I was moving, all of my classmates and Lauren knew. They all had made me a memory book, but I couldn't help but cry at the memories.
My new stable was called Ann Arbor Equestrian Centre. I was still mad at my mom because she thought another horse would be exactly like Mixer. But no horse would ever be like Mixer, with his beautiful bay head, gorgeous, graceful legs, and heart of gold.
After cutting through my closet, I put on my jumping gear and tucked my helmet under my arm, and I took a look around my horse-decorated room with my deep brown eyes. Most girls my age (13) had rooms decorated with supermodels, celebrities, and bands, while I still had model horses and framed pictures of racehorses on my wall. Not one celebrity had a place or poster on my wall. And that would never change. I pulled my long, silky blond hair into a ponytail when I heard my mom's voice from the stairs.
"Graceyn! Time to go to the new stables!" I ran down the stairs, but I wasn't as happy as I looked.
The new stables was more beautiful than I thought it would, and it didn't look like it was full of posh, snotty riders. It was painted white with a black roof, and horses poked their heads out of the stalls. Graceful blacks, amazing greys, quick dapples, still-in-training whites, beautiful bays, pretty palominos, plus 2 Appaloosas and 1 Paint, it all amazed me. They were all so beautiful.
The lady who ran the equestrian centre was friendly and kind to me, but I was shy and quiet to her.
"You will be riding Trix. She's the bay, over there."
Trix was a beautiful, gentle, graceful-looking bay horse, but I didn't appreciate her beauty then.
"Um, thanks." I replied to the lady.
My mom left with a smile as I walked over to Trix willingly. Trix muzzled my shoulder as I stroked her beautiful black mane. I kissed her velvety nose and she did the same thing Mixer did. She rested her head on my shoulder and I thought for the first time,
Maybe Michigan won't be so bad after all.