Moving from the vibrant streets of Montréal to the vast expanse of Colorado felt like being dropped into the middle of a desert for me, Lacey Thompson. I didn't ask for this change, and I certainly didn't want it. But here I was, stuck in this dusty town where the only thing taller than the mountains was my resentment.
Growing up in Montréal, I was used to the hustle and bustle of city life – the sounds of cars honking, the chatter of people on the streets, the neon lights that illuminated the night sky. But here in Colorado, the only thing I heard was the deafening silence of the wilderness, broken only by the occasional whinny of a horse or the distant howl of a coyote.
I never wanted to leave Montréal. I had friends there, a life there, but my parents had other plans. They thought a change of scenery would do me good, help me forget about the accident that had shattered my dreams of becoming a professional rider
It happened when I was twelve – a simple fall from a horse that left me with a fractured foot and a fear of horses that ran deeper than any canyon in Colorado. I used to love riding more than anything in the world, but now, the mere sight of a horse filled me with a sense of dread and unease.
And so, I retreated into myself, building walls around my heart to keep out the pain and the memories. I became known as the grumpy girl from Montréal, the one who never smiled and always had a scowl on her face. People avoided me like the plague, and I didn't blame them. Who would want to be friends with someone as miserable as me?
But there were a few people who managed to break through my tough exterior – Mrs. Ramirez, the kindly old woman who lived next door, and Tyler, the boy with the easy smile and the persistent optimism. They saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself – a glimmer of hope, a spark of life amidst the darkness.
Montréal would always be my home, the place where my heart belonged. And until the day I could return, I would continue to count down the days until I could leave this place behind for good.
