Here is my first chapter to my story Horse Girl. If you haven’t already read: Just For Fun: Writing A Story About A Horse Girl.
Chapter 1
The sky above Emma was streaked with cotton-candy pink and soft lavender, as if the evening had been painted just for her—a scene too perfect for the turmoil twisting inside. Max, her brindle-coated greyhound, moved in sync with her steps, his lean, graceful body rippling with each stride. The subtle striping of his coat shimmered in the fading light, a mix of rich caramel and soft grays, making him look like a moving shadow. He was a sight to behold, but more than that, he was home—a constant in a world where things felt shaky.
Max’s ears perked as a bird darted across the sky, but he stayed close to Emma, as if sensing her mood. His usual exuberance was tempered, offering her the quiet companionship she needed. The street was empty, the world hushed in the last moments of daylight, and still, Emma’s heart raced faster than her feet could carry her.
If she didn’t ask tonight, the opportunity might slip away.
For years, she’d asked for a horse, always hearing the same excuses, always facing the same let-downs. But this time—this time had to be different. Her 15th birthday was just days away, and she’d been crafting her argument, perfecting each point, making sure every angle was covered. She wasn’t just asking for a horse. She was asking for her future. For a shot at becoming the rider she dreamed of—the one who could compete at the top-levels of eventing, not just the rare, sporadic, entry level competitions and a weekly lesson.
And it was more than that. So much more.
Emma glanced down at Max, her hand resting on the soft short fur of his brindle coat. He was hers… well her family’s, and her constant companion at home. But the horses? They were always someone else’s, borrowed for a fleeting moment. At the barn, she never knew who she’d be riding from one lesson to the next. Sometimes it was a steady lesson horse, reliable but not hers to pour her heart into. Other times it was a green sale horse—nervous, unpredictable, never sticking around long enough to form a bond.
She longed for something more.
Emma wanted to ride more than just once a week. Though the summer was filled with extra time at the barn, more riding and some entry level dressage, show jumping and eventing competitions, the summer was over and school would be starting. This meant back to the once a week group riding lessons.
She craved the chance to be on a horse every day, to feel the steady improvement that only came from time in the saddle, not just in the short spurts she got during lessons. The lesson horses were fine, and she’d even grown fond of a few of them, but they weren’t hers. She couldn’t get attached, because the next week might find herself on an entirely different horse. It was always a rotation, never something stable or sure.
And the sale horses… they came and went too quickly. They had potential, but she wasn’t with them long enough to even scratch the surface. By the time she started to connect with them, they’d be gone, sold to someone else. Emma craved a horse she could commit to, one she could nurture and watch develop alongside her. One she could progress with over time, not one that would disappear just as they started to reach their stride.
Emma didn’t just want to ride well. She wanted to compete, to be more than just good. To do that, she needed a horse she could rely on—one that was hers. A horse she could bond with, spend time with, train and grow alongside. She wanted to let her guard down, to know the horse she was pouring her heart into would still be there tomorrow, and the day after that. She wanted to face challenges together, to feel the pride of hitting milestones and pushing through tough days as a team. A horse that wasn’t just borrowed for an hour at a time, but one that was hers, to trust and be trusted by in return.
Max nudged her hand, his soulful brown eyes locking onto hers, offering silent encouragement. “Thanks, boy,” she whispered, running her hand over the rough texture of his coat.
As they rounded the corner, her house came into view, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. The familiar warmth of home should have brought comfort, but tonight it felt like a battleground. The smell of garlic bread and her mom’s famous spaghetti wafted from the kitchen, a scent that usually made Emma’s stomach rumble. Tonight, though, her appetite was nowhere to be found.
Max trotted up the driveway, his tail wagging lazily, while Emma hesitated on the doorstep. She wasn’t ready. Not for the conversation. Not for the disappointment she feared was coming.
Inside, the house was alive with the sounds of family—Milo, the tabby cat, stretched across the back of the couch, purring lazily. Her mom moved with practiced ease in the kitchen, setting plates and calling out, “Dinner’s almost ready!” without even looking up. It was all so normal, so peaceful, and yet the tension building in Emma’s chest made it hard to breathe.
She clenched her fists, bracing herself. This is it.
“Emma, grab your dad, would you?” her mom called, her voice soft but distant. It was like everyone in her family was a million miles away, while she stood on the edge of something huge.
Emma nodded, her voice failing her as she walked down the hall to her dad’s office. He was typing away, focused as ever. “Dinner’s ready,” she murmured, but her voice barely registered above the clatter of the keyboard. He gave her a quick, distracted look, reluctantly getting up and brushing a hand over her hair as he passed by. He had no idea about the anxiety brewing inside her.
As they sat down for dinner, the usual chatter filled the air. Her dad talked about work, Adam, her younger brother made a joke about his math teacher, and Maggie, her middle sibling, was glued to her phone, planning her weekend. Emma pushed her food around her plate, unable to focus on anything but the conversation she was about to start.
Her moment arrived when Adam’s teasing voice cut through her thoughts. “What’s up with you, Em? You’re quieter than usual.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, but it only made Emma feel more exposed.
“Yeah,” her mom added, glancing up with concern. “What’s on your mind?”
Emma swallowed hard, feeling like the whole room was watching her, waiting. Her throat felt dry, but she couldn’t back down now. “I’ve been thinking about my birthday,” she began, her voice small at first but gaining strength as she spoke. “And I really want to talk about… getting a horse.”Emma swallowed hard, feeling like the whole room was watching her, waiting. Her throat felt dry, but she couldn’t back down now. A small voice whispered in the back of her mind that this might go the way it always had—another ‘no,’ another let-down. But she shoved the thought aside, forcing herself to speak. “I’ve been thinking about my birthday,” she began, her voice small at first but gaining strength as she spoke. “And I really want to talk about… getting a horse.”
Her dad sighed first, setting his fork down with a deliberate clink. “Emma… we’ve had this conversation before, and it always comes back to the same thing.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression stern but controlled. “You don’t seem to listen.”
Emma’s heart sank. She hated when he started like this—calm at first, but she knew what was coming.
“I know,” she cut in, her voice rising with a desperation she hadn’t meant to show. “But I’ve been saving, I’ve done my research, and I’m ready. I want more than just lessons—I want to compete seriously, to finally start entering recognized events. I’m tired of being stuck in pre-elementary or elementary, doing walk-trot classes and jumping fences no higher than two feet. I can’t move up the levels with green sale horses that are gone in a few months, or lesson horses that aren’t mine. I need a horse I can bond with, train with—spend real time with. And it’s not just that… the riders who lease lesson horses, or take more than one lesson a week, always get first pick for shows. I need something more, Dad. I need my own horse.”
Her dad’s face remained hard as stone, but a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. “You’ve said all this before, and what you don’t seem to get is that this isn’t just about you wanting a horse. Do you even understand the kind of money we’re talking about here? Do you think it grows on trees?” His voice stayed steady, but there was an edge to it now.
Emma opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, stopping her. “And don’t start with ‘I’ve been saving,’ because I know exactly how much you’ve saved. It’s a drop in the bucket, Emma. You have no idea what it takes to afford a horse—not just the price to purchase the horse, but board, vet bills, farrier visits, feed, tack, and God knows what else.”
Her mom tried to interject, “Honey—”
“No, let me finish,” her dad snapped, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. “It’s not just the money, Emma. It’s the time. Your mom would be the one driving you back and forth to the barn every day. Do you think it’s fair to put that all on her? And don’t even get me started on how much time you’d have to spend taking care of the horse. You want a horse, but you don’t seem to understand what that really means. It’s not just about riding. Almost all the extra time you have will be spent taking care of that horse. And that’s not something we can make work.”
Emma’s chest tightened, the frustration inside her building. “But I can make it work—” she began, but her dad’s voice rose, cutting her off.
“No, you can’t, Emma. Why couldn’t you just pick a different sport. Your brother and sister’s hobbies don’t cost us nearly as much as yours does.” His tone grew sharper, his patience fraying. “Horses are expensive, and it’s not fair to your siblings. Do you think Adam’s baseball, or Maggie’s soccer, costs anything close to what a horse would? No. It doesn’t. You want a horse, but this family can’t afford it, not with everything else going on. If you’d picked a sport that wasn’t bleeding us dry, this wouldn’t be such a problem.”
Emma’s hands tightened into fists under the table, her throat burning with the tears she was trying to hold back. “You never care about what I want,” she blurted, her voice breaking. “It’s always about what’s fair, but what about what makes me happy?”
Her dad’s expression darkened, his voice hardening. “You don’t get it, Emma. This isn’t just about being happy. It’s about being responsible. You want everything, but you don’t listen to what we’re telling you. When you’re older, when you have your own car, your own job, and your own place to keep it, then maybe we’ll talk about it again. Until then, drop it.”
Her mom looked like she wanted to speak up, but her dad pushed his chair back sharply and stood up. “I’m done with this conversation. If you don’t like the answer, tough. That’s life, Emma.”
With that, he turned on his heel and marched toward his office, the door closing firmly behind him. The room was left in an uncomfortable silence.
Emma’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and hurt, her fists still clenched tightly. She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choked, “You don’t get it.”
Her mom, sitting across from her, reached out a hand, her voice soft but hesitant. “Emma, I know this is hard for you, but your dad’s right about some things. A horse is a huge responsibility—emotionally and financially. I’d be the one driving you back and forth to the barn. That’s a lot of time, and once school starts, you won’t have as much free time either. We just… we can’t make it work right now.”
Emma’s heart twisted at her mom’s words, the logical side of her knowing they made sense, but all she could feel was the crushing weight of disappointment. “It’s not just about competing,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I love riding… I love being around horses. They make me happy.” She paused, struggling to find the right words, feeling something deeper that she couldn’t quite name. “I just feel like… I don’t know, like something is missing. And I know having my own horse would fix that.”
Her mom looked at her with soft eyes, but the reality was unchangeable. “I know, sweetheart, but right now it’s just not possible.”
Emma’s chair scraped back as she abruptly stood. “Fine,” she muttered, the sting of defeat and frustration choking her. She shot a quick glance at her siblings, who sat quietly, unusually subdued. Even Adam, who normally teased her, looked guilty, his usual grin nowhere to be found.
Without another word, Emma stormed up to her room, her footsteps heavy on the stairs. She slammed her door behind her and collapsed onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest. Tears pricked at her eyes as she buried her face in her pillow, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her.
“They don’t get it,” she whispered into the quiet of her room. “They don’t care. What I want doesn’t matter, it’s just a burden to them.” Her voice cracked as she lay there, the weight of it all sinking in. “Does he even love me, or am I just some annoying problem to him?” She swallowed hard, her thoughts swirling, but no answers came.
Max pawed at the door, which never closed properly, and with a faint groan, the latch gave way. The door drifted open, just wide enough for him to slip inside. He padded over to Emma, his gentle eyes full of concern, and curled up at her feet. For a brief moment, she sank down beside him, resting her head against his soft fur. She let out a shaky breath, the weight of her emotions still pressing down on her.
Max nudged her gently, as if sensing her sadness. Emma stared at the ceiling, her heart heavy with disappointment and confusion. She hadn’t figured out what to do next—all she knew was how much this hurt.
Hope you enjoyed it so far.
