The Silver Owl

30

A/N: For my friend. Who is having a bad day. You did great! I know how you feel. I am going through the same thing. You can do it. Oh, yes you can. Don't you dare give up, Reagan. I know we can get through this. And I know you've wanted me to publish a chapter for a while now. So here it is. You could use a little bit of unicorn love right now. I love you so much! You did great!

The unicorn stamps it's hooves at me.

"It's okay, girl. It's okay," Zac whispers softly. It's not going to help.

The unicorn became to calm down, and she nuzzles Zac affectionately.

"Oh my gosh," I whisper. A real unicorn, "It's... Real."

"Yeah," Zac shrugs, "I did the same thing."

I gaze childishly at the beast. She is silver all over. Even her mane is white. She's gorgeous.

Her horn is iridescent. An iridescent whitish-silver horn. It isn't a fake for sure.

I take a small childlike step toward her, and she takes two steps back from me.

"It's okay, Jewel. It's okay, girl," Zac says 'Jewel' softly. Almost like the work itself it's a precious gem.

"Jewel," I repeat softly to myself, "Jewel." How fitting for a unicorn.

Zac sees the pain in my eyes, as Jewel fears me, "Go on, that's Lizzie. She's not bad. She's my friend. I promise she wouldn't hurt you."

Jewel looks to Zac for reassurance. Jewel does not move. So I move. Very slowly forward.

"Why did you name her Jewel?" I ask.

"Jewel the Unicorn, from C.S. Lewis's The Last Battle. Jewel was the king's unicorn and best friend," Zac pats Jewel, who cleans her horn on her side.

I take a few more steps forward. Jewel looks at Zac with panic. I retreat.

"Maybe, you should try something..." I suggest, "Maybe you could try to ride her."

Zac looked thoughtfully at Jewel, "I wonder if she's trained."

"I don't know... She's a unicorn. Do we have to train her?"

"You're right. Probably not."

Zac coaxes Jewel to a dip, he bounces on his feet, "Too short..." Which is interesting, because Zac isn't that short.

"Hold on. You stay with Jewel, I'll go find you something to step on," I begin to make my way back to the house. I open the door. I look around. Nothing.

Chair? No. Too tall. Coffee table? Nope, couldn't get that through the door.

I look around. I feel my fingers ringer with excitement. One more glance around the room; the piano bench.

I run and jump on the piano bench. Is this tall enough to mount a large horse? Yeah, I'd say so. I give the piano bench a bear hug, and I run out.

Thankfully, the piano bench fits through the door. Barely.

"I have it!" I yell, I haven't made it around the corner yet, but I know Zac is still there.