A Dedication to Unicorns

by Jennifer Wainwright

I am almost 20 years old, and I can't believe it. It feels like I shouldn't be this age, the time since my childhood has gone so quickly. Lately, with everything that's been happening in my life, I've been looking to find things from my innocent days, the times when there was absolutely nothing to worry about or fear, except for the monster I thought was underneath my bed.

I was going to be a princess then. I was going to live in a castle far away where clouds, forests, and knights abounded. I was going to have long hair and a tiara, a cat named Guenivere, and gowns of every silken shade imaginable. I'd have horses, a kingdom, and gnomes in my garden. Happily ever after was attainable then, and above all else, I would have my very own unicorn.

She wasn't going to be anyone's but mine, though I did consider sharing her with the girl down the street who had cancer. She was going to be swift and agile, white and gleaming with socks of gray that faded delicately into her ghostly body. Her nose would be dark, and her tail would be like a lion's. Her hooves were cloven and her chin bore a feathery tuft of hair. And her horn...Her horn was going to be long and sharp, gleaming and protective. It would give off rays in the dark and play music. If my unicorn ever cried, a group of lovely flowers would grow where her tears fell. But I'd made up my mind early on: That would never happen, I'd keep her too contented for weeping. She would allow me to ride her all day, through the heather and along streams in lush, magical forests where Mother Nature would come out with the wands of her four seasons and weave her magic. She was my unicorn, Mine. And I would always be so happy....

All children grow up. Some keep their unicorns with them. Some, not all. As my life progressed, I acquired many things. I acquired insecurity, depression, a weight problem and later, a problem with eating disorders...I was severely tormented in school. Later still, I went through the monumental phases of life most people go through regardless of those things: My 16th and 18th birthdays, prom night, graduation. I fell in love, and acquired all of the jealousies the Bible says shouldn't come with real love, but often always do. I grew so fast that when I got a chance to breathe, I didn't recognise who was looking back at me in the mirror. My God, was it so long ago that I was going to have that unicorn and castle?

And so I lost my childhood. With it, I lost my unicorn. Now I am going back to my unicorn because maybe, she is the only thing that will pull me through some of the insanities I face from day to day, the insanities everyone faces. I should consider myself lucky: It isn't everyone who has a unicorn.

This page is dedicated to unicorns. To the people who have them and, indeed, to those who had them but lost them while maturing into adulthood. Most of all, this is dedicated to those who are growing up in the darkness of today's society, knowing violence and fright instead of unicorns. May they find them soon, before childhood's hour takes flight and is gone.