Ned's Flee

• Sandy Awad, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2011

Ned, eager to rest his sore feet, wobbled on the unicorn but instantly regretted his move realizing that he would be riding without any saddle. As it moved slowly but firmly he could feel every shifting muscle scraping against each other and the unicorns heartbeat rhyming with his. His backside felt cut off from blood, as if it wouldn’t respond anymore, but nothing could be worse than the agony another step would bring.

After the unicorn walked past lakes, trampled past bushes, treaded over the meadows, sauntered past the mountains and staggered under mossy caves Ned had gotten used to riding barebacked. Ned knew the unicorn was tired, carrying a good one-hundred and forty pounds on its back, but he selfishly brushed the thought away, still traumatized from walking any distance.

As the unicorn strode fearlessly through the forest Ned realized everything had become quiet. The bird’s had stopped chirping and the kookaburra’s couldn’t be heard laughing, the shimmering waterfall had frozen solid and the grass below him was dry, the trees stopped swaying and air was no longer damp and fresh. There was no doubt about it, something was terribly wrong…

Ned jumped off the unicorn, unwillingly but quietly, knowing he had to investigate. It was only when his feet had thudded on the ground that he felt it. The trampling of grass as if by a stampede. Ned felt the vibration spread around his feeble body. Every muscle and every vain, every tissue and every bone in his body felt like it had just been hit with an immense force leaving him stunned. He felt dizzy and when he finally began to see clearly his optic nerves wouldn’t function properly and everything was turned upside down. It was only when the unicorn neighed that he stepped out of his trance and jumped back on the unicorn. Ned turned around that second and saw where the vibration had come from.

An army stood behind him. They were strong, built-up, muscular elephants who stood almost five feet tall. Their skin was the colour of turquoise and they had blocked the entire view of the forest Ned and his unicorn had passed through. They had a fierce look on their faces, the type a mother would give to her child when they had broken or damaged something significant to them.

Ned signaled to the unicorn to move but it wouldn’t budge, it just stood as still as a statue. Ned clicked and clapped and shouted and brushed but it still didn’t move. He was getting desperate and didn’t know what to do so he clasped the unicorn’s horn with both hands. Suddenly he felt adrenaline run through his whole body. Then, as if out of a fantasy the unicorn started growing wings. They were exquisite, white wings with soft feathers. The unicorn started charging forward and then Ned felt as if there was no gravity on the ground. They were floating gracefully and elegantly through the air, breezing over the elephants.