Black Unicorn

There once was a boy from Nantucket… nah… I’m kidding… ok, here it goes…

Deep in the forest was a pond, all the creatures that lived in the forest went there to drink. One of these creatures was a very mysterious one, most of the animals only knew of its existence through stories other animals told. On full moon nights, specially if it was red, this creature would come out of the thickest part of the forest and go to drink at the stream of water that filled the pond.

This creature was a beautiful Unicorn, but there was something very different about it, it was not a white unicorn, it was black as night, even its horn was black as Ebony, deep and beautiful blue eyes. He was not born like that; he was born as white as sea foam, but as it grew up its heart became full of dark feelings. Once this feelings took over its heart, it became black.

The Unicorn was full of anger, hate, mistrust and sadness. Every red moon it would come out and try to speak to the Creator, to try and understand why it was feeling like that and what came over it. It became more distant, grew apart from the rest of the creatures in the forest. It still kept watch over them, but as a distant, invisible protector.

One day, a flash of sunlight brought another Unicorn; this one was white as snow. It roamed through the forest in search of the black one. Late at night they found each other, it was an instant attraction; they fell in love just as their eyes met. All the dark and negative feelings inside of the black Unicorn melted, despite that it didn’t turn white, but it didn’t care, it had finally found its compliment.


Short Story

The day I died was not a particular day for the rest of the World… There was not a single soul that cared about me… That day the World did not stop, the birds kept singing the air kept blowing and the people walking, coming and going.

Now that I have time to think back, my life was not different from someone else, I was not a great person, neither a very interesting one. It was full of abandonment and disappointment, there was no love in it, except for my parents’, and I never found the one, that person that would walk with me forever and ever.

My childhood was nothing of relevance, I was invisible to most of my classmates, no one really took notice of me, of the little girl sitting beside them, eager to talk, to share, to play. So I grew up, still the same, I always went thru life as if no one could see me.

What is the use of life if you are invisible? What did I have to do to be noticed? To be loved? To be taken into account? “If I could do it all over again what would I do different?” You may ask. Well, nothing really, life is just a bitter disappointment one after the other. I wouldn’t choose life… I’d rather be one with the Universe, be pure energy and nothing else.

Was it really life if there was never any passion in it? I always had the feeling that the life force in me was a wasted one, that it could go to someone else that really needed it, that really wanted it. Now that I’m dead I’m glad, I’m glad I don’t have to feel guilty anymore for not wanting to live when there is a lot of people fading, dying, who want to keep living, and I was the complete opposite… Hoping for the day I die…

I never had the courage to take my life, it’s the most cowardly thing to do, but it requires a lot of courage. To go against nature itself, we are programmed to fight for survival, no matter what, how can you fight against that instinct?

Now I’m here, wondering, how come no one really cared that I died? How come no one ever noticed me? Why was I a ghost all my life? If I ever meet the maker I will tell Him (or Her) that life is not fair, and that people without purpose shouldn’t be sent to Earth, and if we all have one, then we should be sent with a manual “Finding your Purpose for Dummies” or something like that.

The wait is annoying, I’m still conscious; I see my body lying on the ground, there’s nothing I can do but wait until someone notices I’m finally dead… When will the Angels or Devils come to take me away? What’s going to happen now? A writer once said “I hope there is no afterlife, because it would be very boring to be me for eternity”. I agree… When will I cease to be?