The Flickering Flame of a Candle

My mind was a mirror, my thoughts bouncing back at me in a different way. Unicorns, they're mythical, aren't they? Then why have there been reported viewings of unicorns lately. It seems, nowadays, everything is real. You know the tooth fairy? Well, apparently, she's real as well. This is what happens when you have a bunch of people who like to believe anything. You know how there are people who believe in ghosts? Well, imagine if that number multiplied and kept multiplying. Ghosts would be real because of the majority of people who believe.

That's what it is like for unicorns. There are so many that believe in their existence, so they must be real. Sure, sure, if they say so. I don't believe. Well, I hadn’t, until this morning.

This morning is what changed my whole perspective on everything. Everything has changed so much. The world seems to be on a different axis than it was yesterday. The sky is green and the grass is blue. The sun is silver and the moon is gold.

There had been warnings about a wild band of unicorns on the Elotti Trail leading to Clesticonia Creek near Mount Trachiiead. The trail was surrounded by tall pine trees towering over one's head. If I were small I'd believe that if I climbed one of the pines I'd be able to touch the sky. I wasn't small, so I didn't believe. If I had been small this very day I would have been eager to walk this trail, for a chance to meet a unicorn. I had believed in fairytales and mythical creatures. Then, my parents died, my parents who loved my creativeness, and encouraged my imaginative thoughts. It took my foster parents such a long to break me of my fantasies and imaginative worlds. I was a kid, and they didn't like it. So they stripped everything away, they took me to some doctor who diagnosed me with a billion disorders.

I became bitter. My eyes were darkened, my hair grey. I hated everyone, I hated everything, I hated the world. My warm kind hearted friends stepped away from me too quickly for me to notice. I didn't want them; I felt as if I didn't need anybody. My foster parents locked me up in my room anyway. I had a journal, yet I didn't write about happy meadows and unicorns frolicking down the green fertile meadows. I wrote about darkness. A candle light flickering, yet I would never get to it. I was trapped, forever, or so it seemed.

My foster parents convinced everyone that we were a great family. Their biological kids didn't have a hard time lying about the child locked up in the attic. After I left, I published a story about them in the New York Times. A few days later their house burned to a crisp. I wrote about that too.

I had a talent. That was writing. People seemed to devour the events I wrote about. I guess I was given gift. If my parents had not of died I would probably be a famous fantasy author. I did have a wild imagination.

Elotti trail, the trail that changed everything. The air was crisp and I felt at ease. A sense of calm came to me, and my eyes started to well. Tears, cold as ice, fell from my eyes. I couldn't stop them, the sensation was odd as well. Then, my eyes caught a glint in the moonlight. A pale gold horn pointed at my body. His eyes were coal, and his body was a brilliant white. I blinked, he was still there. I blinked again, and this time he was closer.

"Hi there." I smiled warmly for the first time in so many years. My face was sopping wet, and the unicorn nudged me gently. I stroked his silky mane, and cherished the moment with this beautiful creature. A unicorn. A fragment of my imagination, now standing here, before my eyes. A unicorn.

Rain poured from my eyes, "I never thought I'd reach the flickering flame of the candle."