Read my Story? as much as i can get on here?

The car had barely come to a stop before I flung the door open and leapt out. I was so excited. I’d looked on the Sunrise Stables website hundreds of times with its beautiful pictures of girls posing arm in arm in front of stalls, sitting on top of beautiful horses soaring over jumps, and spraying each other with hoses in the blistering summer sun, but never had I actually seen it up close like this. It was beautiful. I ran to the gate, pausing for only a second to let my parents catch up. I stop. I look around myself taking in the stunning countryside. As I look to my left I see about a dozen horses, of all sizes and colours, frolicking around the pasture. Straight ahead was the barn, rich hazel coloured wood and shining black roof. I took a deep breath and sighed, I was at home. “Come on Lexi,” Dad called interrupting my daydream. They were almost to the barn office now. “It’s Alex,” I called and jogged after them. As I stepped into the office I saw several girls in breeches, t-shirts, and riding boots sipping sodas on a brown leather couch in the corner chatting amongst themselves. Dad nudged me towards a woman in her early thirties sitting behind a computer screen. I walked shyly towards her. I could feel the girls staring at my back questioningly. “Hello,” Mom said brightly, god she was so embarrassing sometimes, “We’re here for a tour with Mrs. Carson.” “It’s Lisa,” the woman stood up and shook hands with Mom and Dad, “You must be Mrs. and Mr. Myre, so pleased to meet you,” she paused, “And you must be Alexandra,” “Alex,” I corrected her and stuck out my hand. “Well its very nice to meet you too Alex, I hope you like it here. Should we get started on the tour?” I nodded. “This is the office, you can come here if you have any questions, there’s a door to the barn through there,” She said pointing behind the computers, turning to the left, “We have two classrooms where we teach theory for the beginners.” I walked alongside her to the first door, she opened it to reveal a group of seven year olds sitting around a table. One was in the middle of naming the parts of the horse. I looked around the room, on the back wall was a whiteboard, the other walls were lined, floor to ceiling, with books. I scanned some of the titles, Home Veterinary Remedies, How to be your own Vet, The Riding Handbook, Horses from A-Z, and so many more. “You’re welcome to borrow any books you like just make sure you sign it out if you take it home.” “Where did you get them all?” I asked in amazement. “I’ve been collecting them since I was around your age,” she said with a chuckle. In the second classroom there was a fake horse, sitting beside it was a box full of every brush you could imagine and a perfect condition saddle and bridle. I walked over to it and stoked the fur, is that real? I turn around and open my mouth to ask, “Its fake don’t worry,” she says before I can get my question out. We follow her back out to the lounge area where the girls were still sitting. “Allie, Jessica, Sarah,” the girls turned their heads away from their conversation and looked at me, “This is Alex, she might be bringing her horse here soon.” I got multiple ‘heys’ back. We walked outside to the pasture and she explained how the gate worked, I zoned out and stared at the horses, there was a gray Arabian who started walking over to us, behind her was a bay thoroughbred who looked just as interested in us. Grazing near them was what looked like a black Shetland pony and in the distance was about five others. “Earth to Alex?” Dad said in a sing-song voice, “Sorry,” I said snapping out of it. “I said, don’t touch the fence, its electric. Got it?” She asked, “Got it,” I replied. We walked across the gravel path into the barn, I froze and gasped. It was beautiful. Honey coloured wooden stalls framed with black steel. Everything shined like new though it was years old. We walked across the aisle and into a large room to one side there was a staircase and rows of giant lockers each with a steel owner name plates attached to the top. I walked to an unlocked one and opened it, at about waist height there was a saddle rack, with room for tall riding boots and multiple pairs of others below. Above were hooks all high enough so nothing would touch the saddle, and at the very top was a shelf. On the door was a bridle hook with room for a martingale or breast plate and a small basket to put odds and ends in. I closed the locker. On the other end of the room were similar lockers each with horse names plates attached. “These are our personal lockers, available for rent at $30 per month,” she said pointing to the larger ones I had just been admiring, “And these are our school horse’s lockers.” All the lockers, personal and school horse, had some sort of weird card scanner like thing attached, and on the wall across from the door were three machines. They looked like bank machines, or those new self-checkout things they installed recently at the grocery store.