Harrison Heights Academy

Not a 'Real' Jumper

     “Mom, I’ll be fine!” I told her

     “I know you will be, but you’re just so far away from home,” she told me for the millionth time.

     “We’re here,” dad said as he pulled intoHarrisonHeightsAcademydriveway, one of the top boarding schools in the country.

     Dad pulled into the parking lot. I could here my horse in the trailer. I’m not sure if I was more exited or if he was.

     It was a long drive from my little hometown of Willow Creek, Montanato Harrison, Virginia. The longest part of the whole trip was sitting between my older brother, Joe, and my older sister, Kristy. I was the lucky one that got to sit between them the whole trip.

     This was my first year atHarrison. Joe was a junior this year. Kristy is a freshman. I’m going into the sixth grade.

     I was so exited when I found out my horse, Storm, and I were accepted. I am sad to leave Willow Creek, and my horse Sundance.  I’m exited, though, to get a chance to be a professional jumper like my mom, Annie Parker.

     “Kristy, can you show your sister how to get to the stable?” mom asked.

     “Joe knows how to get there,”

     “Kristy.”

     “Fine, Come on Juno.”

     There were a bunch of trailers, horses, and people. I was worried about Storm. He had been wild and still had the instincts.

     Storm was caught from the wild when he was six-months old. I was there that day. He was fighting more than any adult I’d ever seen. Mom works with rescues, so I knew what to do. Everyone said if he was too wild to trust anyone they would have to kill him. I would sneak out at night to see him, to train him. He trusted me and I trusted him. I had named him for what was in both of our hearts. A thunderstorm.

     The day the man came to put him down. Storm reared up and looked as though he might crush the man. I pushed through everyone and screamed his name. He stopped and all eyes were on me. I ran over to him ignoring everyone screaming at me to stop. I put his halter on him and lead him back to the barn.

     Mr. Olson, who had Storm, said Storm was mine. That was only May 3rd when he told me that, now it is August 28th and we made it this far together.

     “Juno, are you going to get this thing out of the trailer or not?” Kristy asked sounding so annoyed. The best part was that she was so mad and I didn’t do anything!

     “Yes I am,” I said as I made my way to the trailer as slow as I could to make her even madder.

     “Well hurry up, I want to get there before school starts,” she said and with that she stomped away.

     I got Storm out of the trailer with flared nostrils and pricked ears. I prayed he wouldn’t bolt. That was the last thing I needed right now.

     “Come on Juno!” Kristy yelled pulling Storm, Comanche, her horse, and me behind her. I have to admit she was really strong.

      I’m glad Kristy was pulling me, because I would have looked like a total idiot standing there with my mouth open. The campus was stunning. It looked like the grass was fake, the sidewalk was polished, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be seen.

     As we got closer to the stable I saw how stunning it truly was. Kristy had told me about it and I’d seen pictures, but this was amazing. This made our home barn look like a shack. Even the high quality Wild Mustang Rescue didn’t compare to this. The polished stone building, the gleaming wood doors, and the huge stalls.