My mother was a great woman and not what the priest, who was a stranger to me, described her as. People around me were crying as he preached about her apparent life. Only I was angry. What he told was the smallest part of her. Her mother had dedicated her whole life to horses, even in her last seconds she had saved horses.

It had been a stormy day. The perfect day to commit a small crime. The sky was dark, covered in heavy gray clouds. She wanted to put her plan into action. There was a mass operation in the neighboring town. She had informed the animal protection agency several times, but they insisted that they could not do anything without legal evidence. So she had made a decision. She would provide them with this legal evidence. So the woman got into her car. It was a long drive, because they lived in the country and the neighboring town was not exactly a stone's throw away. But she blocked all that out. These animals simply had to be able to live a decent life. In the last few seconds, everything happened too quickly. The camera filmed the horses, pressed tightly together. She had struggled to hold back her tears. Suddenly they were frightened. That was not the reason for her death. She had simply collapsed. Without any warning. Heart attack. At least that's what I was told. On the phone. Aunt Kerstin had been with her. They had almost been discovered. But at least the trial against the petty criminal was now underway. I didn't hear much of it, though. And I was happy about that.

Now I was sitting on the pew and listening to the pastor's speech, which simply left out important details about her life. The inheritance had already been left to me. Even though I was far too young to own a horse farm at just fifteen. Luckily, Aunt Kerstin and her small family had always lived with us. She would help me until I was old enough to take care of everything properly.
The church hall became very quiet. Only the footsteps of the people who were now lifting the coffin could be heard. We followed them over the pebbles of the cemetery. The priest spoke the last words to my mother and to his God as he lowered her into the grave. I was the first in the line of people, all of whom looked far too upset. I had never seen at least half of them before. The other half was Aunt Kerstin's family and some animal rights friends. And my favorite cousin Jaqueline.
With an icy expression, I threw some flower petals onto my mother's coffin. As if that would do her much good. I stood to the side and waited for Kerstin and her family. The crying Kerstin was the first to hug me before turning to her family.

Silently and still without feeling, I watched her and her family sobbing. I had cried enough. Despite the deep sadness, I did not cry. I searched my pockets, handed her a pack of tissues and accompanied my new family to the car. Now it was official. It was so surreal. My mother was dead. Her riding stable was now my riding stable. And she would never see her favorite horse, Chagall, again. What was he thinking?

My mother had had Chagall since he was a foal. She had taught him everything. In theory, this horse was my brother. A beautiful brown draft horse with a jet-black mane and a shooting star on his forehead. But I didn't really like him. I had never understood my mother's fascination. I had merely tolerated it. But now Chagall was left. He was the only part of her that was still alive.

Still silent, I got out of the car.

I also had a horse that I loved more than anything in the world. Tony. He was gentle but also cheeky. That suited me. Sometimes I had the feeling he understood what I was saying. Maybe it was what my mother had with Chagall. With him I had the feeling he was my soul horse.

Exhausted, I strolled into the stable. Today had been a long day. I didn't feel like having guests at home who would drink coffee and eat butter cake until they dropped. I always hated funerals. Back when my father lost his battle with cancer, I hated it. And today I still hated it. Only today could I choose whether I wanted to be involved or not. So I consciously decided against the celebration.

I ran to Tony's box. The dark brown Trakehner gelding already sensed that something was fishy. He stretched his head towards me. My chest felt warm as I hugged his head.

I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to distract myself with. But I hadn't moved him today and had to do so anyway. So I slowly led him out of the box to clean and saddle him.

The tack room was huge and I thought it was impossible to keep track of more than two saddles. Tony snorted and pawed his hooves impatiently. I quickly took his saddle and got him ready to ride. Then I saw someone in the stables. It was my cousin.

"Why don't you come in with me?" she asked as if she didn't quite know the reason.

"Why are you coming to me?" I replied instead.

My horse had started to search Jaqueline's jacket for food. She pushed his head away, but his hunger won out in the end.

"It's boring in there. I've had at least five coffees without anyone even asking me if I wanted more."

I had to giggle. "Do you and Lissy want to keep me company?" I asked.

"Why not." she shrugged her shoulders and led her mare out of the box.

"Imagine. Lara is going with Mike now." Lara was a girl from my clique and well, Mike was a former crush of mine. Or something like that.
"Let her make the same mistake I made. It's her own fault then," I replied carefree.
"She's been in love with him for ages." Jaqueline was much quicker at saddling than I was. She was ready to mount. I hadn't had to wait ten minutes for her.

We led our horses down to the hall. It wasn't big, but big enough to give riding lessons and sometimes set up a few medium-sized obstacles.
"At the moment I'm just thinking about how I can get to Leo," I admitted honestly.
"Leondre? You're stupid, Mina. No one can get to him. Not even Anastasia, and you know how well Anastasia is received by everyone." Jaqueline flipped me the bird. "You'd better forget about him before you end up in a Mike situation." She brushed her long brown hair back. Then she urged her spotted horse on.

We rode together in perfect harmony, as we always do. She and I had ridden together many times before and had developed a certain routine in our training. Of course we both enjoyed it. Nothing spectacular and not demanding for our horses either. Just to get them moving a bit. Until our horses were wet and sweaty. Out of nowhere, both of their ears pricked up. So we rode together to the window. It was already dusk. The masses of guests were walking happily chatting to their hundreds of cars. Thankfully they finally disappeared. My stomach was already growling and I was exhausted from the long day and the extra riding afterwards. I let myself slide from Tony's butt to the floor. Jaqueline giggled.

"And how are things going for you?" I asked.
I've always had a crush on Leo. Since elementary school. He was two years older than me. Nobody had ever seen him with a girl, but everyone was sure that he had had girlfriends many times. He had always been nice to me. We were just friends. And when I was introduced to Mike, I thought I was finally over Leo. But I was wrong. My heart pounding in his presence was most likely because Leo was always somehow in the background. He was often just out with us. Since we were so close to graduating, he had become even more attractive. He was now seventeen, had been wearing slightly longer blonde hair for ages and often had it tied up. But his brown undercut was still there. Maybe it was his hair color or his hair length or simply his prominent Adam's apple that made him so much more attractive to me. But there was always only one in my head and that was Leondre.

Jaqueline was different. She often had some new guy. I didn't want to blame her. At least she got one.

"Well, not so good. Marlon keeps turning my head, it's almost like with your Leo." She patted Lissy and let her into her box.

"That sounds like another hopeless case." I giggled.

"What are you going to do with Chagall now?" she asked me.

"If only I knew." Sighing, I walked over to his box. "He knows that I don't like him and the feeling is mutual, but he's my mother's horse. I can't just let him rot here. She wouldn't want that either."
"She would probably want you to come to terms with him and become friends after all," my cousin stated.

I turned to her, nodding. "Well, I guess I'll have to. Who else is going to ride him?"
"Let's go inside. Mother is probably angry enough that we disappeared from the party," she stated.

Aunt Kerstin wouldn't be angry. I knew that. She loved her sister and she had understood my behavior even at the memorial service. Over the last few weeks she had repeatedly comforted me and promised me that she would not force me to do anything that I did not feel ready for.

Tomorrow I would go back to school for the first time and to be honest, I was scared.

An:
Hey and hello to whoever came across this story. This story is a rewrite of what I wrote as a child and therefore something completely new that doesn't really fit my profile. I noticed that I miss writing children's stories and that's why I'm trying to rewrite it. Does that alone make me a horse girl?