I am a unicorn.
I am not real. I am just a being that exists in the dreams of the child. In her dreams, she rides on my back and All Is Well. We ride through her dreams, through fields of flowers thick with her mothers favourite perfume, through circus tents where mice and elephants dance elegant ballet to pipe organ music.
When Daytime comes, I have to leave her side and return to Golden Maker, who sends me to the child every night. I try to tell him of all the fun I have had with the child in her dreams, but there are so many of us and we all have stories to tell until Maker sends us to a child again.
I do not mind. Golden Maker has much work to do, and we are many. What little I manage to tell always makes him smile and his smile is the warmest and best, like honey warmed by the sun.
We all love our Golden Maker. He is Good. He is Strong. All Is Well.
When it is night in this part of the world again, I am sent back to the child and we ride through her dreams. Tonight, we also ride across snowy fields where children(children who have not made fun of her, but have played with her in the daytime)play with her with snowballs and snowmen.
All Is Not Well.
There is a shadow that crawls out from under the childs bed, before it stretches up and up until it looms above us, becoming a greyskinned, blackclad being. I dutifully keep trotting around, keeping the child safely asleep as the shadow laughs softly, because I know without a doubt that the child would be frightened at the sight of him should she wake up.
His smile is sharp and full of poison as he reaches out with a wraith like hand, andTOUCHES me!
A
Touch
Of
F E A R
I feel his poison in my heart
and darkness seeps through me,
t e aring me apart.
Had I been made to have a voice, I would have screamed.
The child's dream S.
The flowers w i l t and the earth dries up and breaks and cracks as if in great pain, becoming endless, deep ravines; The pipe organ music in the circus tent twists into a horrible
y,
the elephants trample the mice in R, and on the snowy fields the children twist into jeering, snarling monsters that throw balls of scorching heat while the snow disappears because of the heat.
In her dreams, the child falls from my back and into the ravine, screaming as she falls and falls and falls…
In the waking world, she curls up tight under her covers, whimpering in her sleep in distress.
Her fear is l.
Everything is changed. My Dark Maker caresses me, chuckles and speaks to me softly, and lets me rub up against him.
(Golden Maker did not touch us like this)
"What a pretty little Nightmare!" Maker purrs, proud and dark and dangerous and wonderful as he grabs my mane, firm but painless, to hold me in place.
"Now, I want you to go tell the others the wait is over." He commands.
I know instinctively what he is talking about and obey, tearing off into the night with a scream. My new voice calls to my Sisters, and we all run off into the darkness.
We are all former dreams with a new purpose.
All Is Well.