Disclaimer: No, I don't own any characters from The Last Unicorn
(DUH!!)
"But how do you know mother?" little Molly McGrue asked. "How can you know for sure that unicorns don't exist?"
"Child, stop being so ridiculous," Mrs. McGrue scolded, wiping her hands on her apron. "Everyone knows that unicorns aren't real. Everyone except you, a stupid, foolish little girl, whose imagination goes running away much too often."
"But they do live! They do exist! And some day, I am going to meet one!"
"The chances of you meeting a real unicorn are the same as me getting a raise on my job--unicorns aren't real!"
"You'll never understand! You'll never know!"
"That's enough Molly, go to your room!"
"That's where I was headed, anyway!" Clenching her fists, Molly held back the tears and rushed to her room.
~~~~~~~~~~
Molly McGrue sighed, poking a fire with a stick. She was remembering the first time that she had asked her mother about unicorns. Her mother scolded her for even imagining such foolish things, and told her not to talk about it again.
The now older Molly put her face in her hands. She missed her real mother--the one that did believe in unicorns (or had at least pretended to). But her mother had died early on, and her father remarried to a horrid woman. A woman who's imagination stretched about as far as...well actually, she didn't have any imagination.
Frustrated with her new mother, Molly had run away. She was scurrying along a path one day, when she ran into a pack of gypsies. They asked where she was going.
"I don't know," she had answered. Actually, Molly had been searching in vain for the Sherwood forest, where her childhood heroes lived.
"Then why don't you stay with us?" the king of gypsies asked kindly. "We could always use another fellow."
Smiling widely, Molly said she'd be extremely excited to go with them. Maybe gypsies met unicorns. Maybe unicorns liked gypsies. At least, that was what she hoped.
"Have any of you ever met a unicorn?" Molly had asked the group eagerly one night during dinner.
Several of the gypsies exchanged glances.
"I saw one once," the King said.
"Really?! Where? What did it look like?!"
The King grinned at the little girl's enthusiasm. "She was beautiful. One of the loveliest things I've ever layed my eyes upon. I lost my way, and stumbled upon a river. I stooped down to drink, and then looked up. Right across the river was a pure white unicorn, staring right back at me."
"What did you do? What happened next?"
Sighing, the King's shoulders drooped slightly. "Our eyes were locked for a few moments, but then she galloped away."
"But you saw one!" Molly cried excitedly. "That would've been good enough for me! Oh, you're so lucky!"
"Maybe I am. But best not get your hopes up, young lass. It's not every day that a man...well, any person stumbles upon a live unicorn."
"I'll meet one someday," Molly said to herself. "I know I will! Oh, I just knew that unicorns exist!"
"But how do you know mother?" little Molly McGrue asked. "How can you know for sure that unicorns don't exist?"
"Child, stop being so ridiculous," Mrs. McGrue scolded, wiping her hands on her apron. "Everyone knows that unicorns aren't real. Everyone except you, a stupid, foolish little girl, whose imagination goes running away much too often."
"But they do live! They do exist! And some day, I am going to meet one!"
"The chances of you meeting a real unicorn are the same as me getting a raise on my job--unicorns aren't real!"
"You'll never understand! You'll never know!"
"That's enough Molly, go to your room!"
"That's where I was headed, anyway!" Clenching her fists, Molly held back the tears and rushed to her room.
~~~~~~~~~~
Molly McGrue sighed, poking a fire with a stick. She was remembering the first time that she had asked her mother about unicorns. Her mother scolded her for even imagining such foolish things, and told her not to talk about it again.
The now older Molly put her face in her hands. She missed her real mother--the one that did believe in unicorns (or had at least pretended to). But her mother had died early on, and her father remarried to a horrid woman. A woman who's imagination stretched about as far as...well actually, she didn't have any imagination.
Frustrated with her new mother, Molly had run away. She was scurrying along a path one day, when she ran into a pack of gypsies. They asked where she was going.
"I don't know," she had answered. Actually, Molly had been searching in vain for the Sherwood forest, where her childhood heroes lived.
"Then why don't you stay with us?" the king of gypsies asked kindly. "We could always use another fellow."
Smiling widely, Molly said she'd be extremely excited to go with them. Maybe gypsies met unicorns. Maybe unicorns liked gypsies. At least, that was what she hoped.
"Have any of you ever met a unicorn?" Molly had asked the group eagerly one night during dinner.
Several of the gypsies exchanged glances.
"I saw one once," the King said.
"Really?! Where? What did it look like?!"
The King grinned at the little girl's enthusiasm. "She was beautiful. One of the loveliest things I've ever layed my eyes upon. I lost my way, and stumbled upon a river. I stooped down to drink, and then looked up. Right across the river was a pure white unicorn, staring right back at me."
"What did you do? What happened next?"
Sighing, the King's shoulders drooped slightly. "Our eyes were locked for a few moments, but then she galloped away."
"But you saw one!" Molly cried excitedly. "That would've been good enough for me! Oh, you're so lucky!"
"Maybe I am. But best not get your hopes up, young lass. It's not every day that a man...well, any person stumbles upon a live unicorn."
"I'll meet one someday," Molly said to herself. "I know I will! Oh, I just knew that unicorns exist!"