I never realized how uncomfortable my bed was until now. I miss my old bed. I miss my old house. I miss my old life. My mom left me here with my granny 6months ago and it's been the longest 6months of my life. She promised she'd be back for me but I've hardly heard from her since she told me she was moving away without me. "Annabelle," she said with a tired look on her face, "I need some time. Spain isn't that far away and we can talk the whole time. I just need some time to sort my life out, then as soon as I find a nice place for the two of us to live, I'm coming right back for you, okay?"
At the time, I believed every word she said. I held on to all those words she said like a drowning person clinging on to a lifeboat for dear life. But as time goes by, I'm slowly loosing grip of her words and loosing my belief in those words I thought were so precious. Every time I even mention her name my granny just brushes it off like she never existed. Things were rough between my mom and my granny but she was the only person left in my life to take me in. My dad left years ago. He left when I was 5 and never heard from him since. If he passed me in the street he would just blend in with all those other people who mean nothing to me.
I'm suddenly woken from my dream of the past by the piercing sound of my dreaded alarm clock. It's show day. My favourite day of the whole year. Most people have a garden in the back of their house but not my granny. We have a huge yard with horse stable, a grand indoor arena, an outdoor arena and fields filled with cross country jumps. The one thing were missing is the horses. It may be the most important thing to have in a yard, it's like the one missing piece in a 500 piece jigsaw. Granny gave up the horses when grandad died. His lived for jumping horses or running camps and granny just couldn't put her heart into the horses anymore. So they decided to allow the county to use their land to hold the annual horse show when people try qualify to the Dublin Horse Show. I dreamed of competing in that show every day of every year. In the whole 15 years of my life I've never missed a show. The buzz of people walking around the yard, the sound of horses hoofs thumping down on the ground waiting to finally be able to fly over the jumps with the sound of the anxious crowd holding their breadth as the horse attempts each fence. I've always been part of the volunteers down at the yard looking at all the tired faces on the competitors ready for a day of tough competition all hoping to qualify.
I can smell grannys burnt toast as I walk my way down the stairs pulling my hair back into a tight ponytail. I've trained myself to take a bite or two of the burnt toast so I don't hurt grannys feelings and throw the rest away to Nelson the Labrador as soon as I walk out the door ready for another exciting weekend surrounded by horses. "Have a great day sweetie, I'll be down to see you soon, mind yourself,"
One of the best parts of the weekend is the new pair of boots and jodphurs I get coming up to the weekend. I love being one of the first down at the yard. I love getting to witness the yard wake up from a long peaceful night of rest. After a walk around the yard I go straight into the break room to meet the other volunteers to get my job. I always get my favourite job, managing the horses getting ready to enter the arena. I've a good feeling about this weekend. I want this weekend to be great more than almost anything I've ever wanted in my whole life, next to owning my own horse to compete with of course. But that dream always seems to fade away more and more each year with my chances getting slimmer and slimmer.
