When my last-life-mother (Xochia) told me she was forcing me to raise a Unicorn I was very disappointed. There is a stereotype among horse folk (which is mostly universal) that anyone who owns a “pony” is quite obviously spoiled and rich. I was neither so I immediately hated the idea. We lived in a large house but one that would be considered ancient by Venusian standards and falling apart by anyone’s reckoning. I had been trying to convince her to buy building materials for a tool shed which I could then commandeer as my smithy but instead she set about making all sorts of expensive arrangements for a perfectly useless Unicorn. Just who exactly was she trying to impress? Uquines of course are much like Equines are regarded on earth; they’re very expensive to keep and maintain and training them is time consuming and difficult. In the first place I never wanted to be a rural person and I already didn’t like my trade and line of work. I was a metal worker and who had aspirations of being a computer programmer.
Upon seeing the Uni for the first time my mother exclaimed; “Oh Wow! Look at all her hair you’ll have to brush!” I certainly must have appeared as one of those spoiled children because I couldn’t hide my indignation for my Mothers frivolous plan to force me to live out her childhood dream of being a Uquestrian trainer. “… Wait! What? I have to brush its hair?!” “Her hair! and of course! It’s not going to brush itself… -You have a lot to learn about Unicorns…” There was an awkward silence and the Stockman chuckled nervously. My mother seemed delighted at the idea of me waiting hand and foot on a large, stubborn and very stupid beast who was certain to be ready to crap all over everything at a moment’s notice. My mother, being somewhat non-committal to things had at first set the pretenses that we were only there to view the Unicorn on that day as a showing, however upon seeing how miserable I was she immediately saw that we would be “great together” and the deal was sealed before I had even known. Three days later a Trailer pulled up and the same Stockman began unloading a prancing, farting and incredibly spoiled Unicorn mare. The first thing she did was take a massive dump in the pasture and then proudly go for a trot with her tail up around the boundary of the property; wonderful.
My first real problem I had with the Unicorn was that she somehow magically made my bike disappear. I had ridden my bike into town and I noticed that every time I did so she would start pacing and prancing at the fence and what followed was farting, snorting, whinnying and hooving the ground as if she was about to charge. This quite pleased me. She only seemed to do this when I was on or near my bike and then one day my bike mysteriously disappeared. It totally fucking vanished. I put it right beside the fence and it somehow vanished into thin air. Now, one could get the impression that because this story has Unicorns it would also have “magic” as well and I suppose it does but certainly not the kind that can make a something like a bike inexplicably disappear. We lived in the country so I knew that no one was around to steal it besides the Nightmare. I tried to explain to my mum that it was her who stole it and she said I was being paranoid. “Our Uni stole your bike! Now I’ve heard everything…” and this of course was confirmed a number of months later when she proved herself able to open latches, gates, and lift hay bales etc with her tuskatta (what an Earthling would call her “horn”.) So I knew she stole it and probably because she was jealous of my riding it. But when I tried to tell this to my mum she thought it was the funniest thing she ever heard and told me; “…Well maybe its her way of telling you that you should be riding her more often.”
One of the things my Mom had been harassing me about was to give her a name and at first I had only said that she is too stupid for a real name because saying such seemed to properly annoy my mother, but at long last I finally knew the perfect name for a perfectly awful beast and one that was perhaps too good for her. I named her after a Jottun in my favorite Norse legend; Sinmara. The names etymology makes it an appropriate name for a unicorn nightmare as it has been taken to mean “nerve afflicting nightmare”… Quite right.