The Passion Of Unicorns The written words about the short life of Finn, the boy who really needed a couple glasses

of water and a reality-check.

BY:

Editfriends

Dear reader,

what you're reading now, is my note and memoir in the beginning of the story

about the period in my life in which I am most proud of. It was a time and era

of exploration of both me and others. A truly beautiful time, in which I found

myself and learned quite a lot.

But most importantly, the time where I crushed the capitalist consumer-based

state and 7-eleven, and fought their leader and his army of Narwhales. I was

lead by my loyal unicorn; Bagffwaccp, who was pretty unique and smart

compared by the other unicorns, the ones who they make sausages of.

Also, the gorgeous drawing on the front is my own masterpiece. It's a self

portrait of me, riding Bagffwaccp to war against the Narwhale army. As you can

see, we're both quite majestic and beautiful in the wind.

Yours truly,

Chapter 1.

The late, orange sun shone playfully on the soft curls on the young boy, making it seem like his hair was

made of liquid gold which bounced lightly as he walked down the path through the forest. He'd been quite

attractive to most, with his golden curls and deep brown eyes – it was just a shame that the eyes were usually

shadowed by a constant frown, and his hair had a tendency to be a little more greasy than what was socially

accepted.

The forest should have been terribly green and magical like the ones you see in fairy tale books, and it

would, if it wasn't for the fact that it was almost dried out due to the very same sun who made the boy's hair

seem like gold.

The boy (who's bore the majestic name of Finn) didn't give two damns about that, though. All he had interest

for was the music in his ears and the images it made in his mind... Images of the fairest creature of them

all—the unicorn. He absolutely adored unicorns, and had unicorns on everything. He had a unicorn shirt, a

unicorn backpack, a unicorn background on his phone, even a unicorn tattoo on his shoulder.

Nobody would ever understood his passion for these creatures. They told him it was just as stupid as being

obsessed with pork. Both were common, and you could buy both kinds of sausage at 7-eleven. He hated the

pork sausage, but he hated the unicorn sausage even more. It had the same colour as oil on an asphalt road,

shining with the colour of the rainbow. They probably earned a lot of money by selling the meat of

slaughtered, poor animals, but they would never get anything from Finn, as he was in fact vegan (almost) and

boycotted everything that sold meat.

Boycotting every place that sold meat was pretty difficult. No matter where he went, he always found out

that they sold some sort of animal product, or something that contained it. The last time it had happened, he'd

discussed with the owner for three hours that they had to stop taking in the products, as the store was

supposed to be a bloody vegan store, but he seemed to be too mentally slow to understand that eating lenses

was disgusting, since the poor animals needed them to see. Therefore, he only ate the food his mother cooked

him, which most of the time was meat-free (though he didn't really know (or care) when it wasn't).

Finn stopped, sure he'd seen something deeper into the forest. He'd heard someone talk about some rumours

about a real unicorn that was supposed to live in this very forest, though he wasn't quite sure if that rumour

was true, or it was just a hoax to make curious people like him investigate the deep parts of the woods, and

then not be heard about ever again, except for in a headline in the local news paper the day after, containing

the words “found dead”.

But what if it was a real unicorn? A real, majestic, magical horse with a horn, white and beautiful and smart?

Then he could truly show everybody that unicorns weren't as stupid and useless as they thought, but in fact

very clever creatures who deserved freedom, just as everybody else. Yes, it would probably be best to

investigate.

His hair almost sparkled beautifully as he turned around to walk off the path. Nobody ever told him that he

looked good, but he knew he did, or they wouldn't have stared so much as they did. Somebody once told him

that it was probably due to the jacket he was wearing, but it was just cool if they watched it. He had spent

forever on making that large unicorn and the amazing rainbow look good and sparkle perfectly, after all, so it

would be a shame if nobody noticed it.

While pushing his way through he tall grass and sticky bushes, he suddenly realised why he avoided nature

as much as possible. It was full of insects and things that stung, plus it was horribly dirty. No matter how

much as he loved nature and everything nature did, he hated being in it, among the animals and the maniacs

who escaped from the asylum which lay nearby. Luckily, he had his music to amuse him on the way, but it

didn't block out the loud whinnying from somewhere further in. A whinnying that could only mean one

thing: unicorn!

With a large grin, he pulled out his earbuds to hear the joyous sound from the magical creature again, but the

forest was a quiet as a forest could be. The only sounds were the frantic chirping from the birds who

desperately tried to get laid. Finn didn't understand why getting laid was so very important for everybody. It

couldn't be that much of an experience, could it? Nah, it was probably something overrated, just like that

film series about some stupid wars in space. He was sure that the amount of time spent crying over the lack

of something sexual in his life was just hormones or some shit. In three years, when he turned twenty,

everything would be okay.

Right now, however, nothing was okay. The forest was deeper than he thought, and he'd lost all track of

where he was. His iPod had run out of battery as well, something that probably wouldn't have happened if it

wasn't made by a bunch of capitalist swines, and the birds wouldn't shut up with their eardrum-ruining

singing of theirs. His feet were getting soggy as well, as the water from the mushy ground went straight

through his old pair of Converse. If he'd thought this through, he'd worn something a little more water-proof

for his walk through the woods, but it's the 21st century! He shouldn't be the one to change after what the

forest did, the forest should adapt humanity.

He hated the forest so much.

If he hadn't heard the whinnying again, he'd probably turn around to return to the safe trail. But now that he

knew that there was a unicorn here, he had to continue. Branches snapped around him as he burst through the

thick walls of leaves and sticks, and then he saw it.

There, on the ground, was the most beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful, astonishing,

cunning, cutest, prettiest creature he had ever seen in his entire life as a vegan unicorn-loving semi-

communist, which had lasted for seventeen years and two hundred and sixty eight days.

He stopped in his tracks and could just stare at this beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous,

wonderful, astonishing, cunning, cute and pretty creature. Its mane seemed to be made out of pure rainbow –

if you removed all the colours but yellow and green – and it's fur was kind of the same colour as the unicorn-

sausages, grey with a rainbow-esque shine. On its beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous,

wonderful, astonishing, cunning, cute and pretty head it had a long, white horn which sparkled lightly in the

sunlight. It's eyes were a little off, though, as one looked forwards while the other to the side. But Finn didn't

care about the eyes – he was happier than he'd ever been before, even happier than that time he'd managed to

draw a good-looking hand on one of his many drawings of nuns with machine guns.

The unicorn turned its head and looked at him with the strange, straight-forwards eye, which had the colour

of what was beneath your sole after a walk in the sewers. It slowly shambled on its feet and walked towards

him. Finn froze. He'd never been this close to a living creature that wasn't a human being before, and had

pretty much no idea what to do, so he let the beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful,

astonishing, cunning, cute and pretty unicorn break the ice first.

Its mule started to move over his body. It started at his neck, then moved down, smelling and sniffing. It

stopped a moment at his crotch area, before pulling back to study him again with the weird, sewer-coloured –

yet beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful, astonishing, cunning, cute and pretty – eye.

It seemed to like him, and he liked it very much as well, so he smiled brightly and reached forth his right

hand to pat it on its white head.

Then everything happened very fast. One moment, he had five fingers on his pale hand, the next moment the

count was down at four fingers on his pale hand. He stared confused on the spot where his little finger had

been. Now it was nothing there, except for a whole lot of blood. It seemed like the missing finger was inside

the unicorn's mouth, which was chewing slowly. It hurt a lot.

“You seem to be terribly hungry,” Finn said lowly as all blood rushed from his face. Yet he was not afraid.

Okay, maybe a little afraid, since it hurt like hell, but it wasn't the unicorn's fault. He hurried to rip of some

cloth from his shirt and wrapped it around his hand to stop the bleeding. Then he opened his backpack and

found some rope he always carried around in case the capitalist government became too much and he had to

hang himself before they could get hold of him to torture him until he spilled everything. Carefully he pulled

the hoop over the stunning creature's head. “Let's go home to me, I got some carrots in the fridge.”

It took a while to get back to the track Finn had abandoned earlier. The unicorn kept nibbling his fingers and

body, yet it never took any more body parts since Finn now understood how hungry that poor creature had to

be, so he avoided its sharp fangs. He'd never really known that unicorns actually had fangs, but it was

probably a result of the radioactive spilling in the drinking water.

Nobody believed him when he told him about the waste, but now! Now, he had proof! Real, living proof!

Not only had he proof, he had also what he considered as his new best friend. He started telling the unicorn

about his problems. How terribly ignorant his rich parents were, how nobody believed him when he said that

7-eleven was owned by a unicorn-hating capitalist swine, how everybody teased him at school for wearing

his jacket with propaganda pins and unicorn + rainbow painting on his back... And worst of all, how he still

hadn't gotten the vegan hamburgers he'd ordered from the vegan internet store four months ago.

When they got to the main road, Finn was starting to get very connected to the new friend of his. He stopped

and turned around to study this amazing creature, a little smile curling his thin lips.

“You're incredible,” he said softly to the unicorn. “The best friend I've ever had.”

The unicorn whinnied.

“I agree,” Finn replied, as he knew exactly what it was saying. “I too think you should have a fit name. But

what name would be fit for a creature as beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful,

astonishing, cunning, cute and pretty as you?”

The unicorn chewed silently on the remains of his fingers. Its tongue dangled lazily out of its mouth.

“I'm not even sure what gender you are.” He scowled. “What pronouns would you like me to use?”

A car drove by. The guy in the passenger seat yelled a word that wasn't very nice as to him, but Finn was

used to problematic words like that, so he didn't let it go into him. Besides, the guy was just some douche

from his school. The unicorn did nothing.

“Okay, I'm going to list a lot of pronouns, and when you hear the one you're comfortable with, make a sound

or something, okay?” Finn grinned, the unicorn stared stupidly at him. “She, bun, kit, fae, syr, xir, ze...”

He continued listing pronouns, each of them dumber and more complicated than the last. Finally, when he

said “it”, the unicorn sneezed.

“So,” he said, staring at him, “I see you identify as an it, then. That's cool.”

The unicorn didn't seem to care about whatever pronouns Finn used on it, but it could be a ruse and he could

end up offending this poor creature. He'd read all about personal pronouns on a couple blogs, and was not

going to hurt anybody at all by referring to them as something they didn't identify as.

“And since you're so beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful, astonishing, cunning, cute

and pretty, I've found the perfect name for you!” The blonde boy nodded seriously and started to make some

very serious drum rolls on his thighs. “Your name shall be... Bagffwaccp!”

Bagffwaccp moved its ear to wave away a fly, and that was just enough movement for Finn to understand

that it was a name it liked. Bagffwaccp... It was a gorgeous name, pronounced Bag-foo-ack. The P was silent,

and the W pronounced as it was pronounced in Welsh; like the “oo” in “zoo”.

They started to walk again. The sky was getting heavy with deep grey clouds and the atmosphere slowly

grew heavy, pushing against Finn's head. Hopefully he wouldn't get a migraine. They walked quickly past the

abandoned car shack, which was the last sign of poorness before they entered the area where Finn's parents

(and him, though he hated it) lived.

The area they lived in was pretty large, filled with large, mostly white houses. Some houses were brown or

red as well, but as much as ninety percent of them where white. All of them had perfect yards and perfect

fences, fences that got painted at least every year. And as if three-story houses wasn't expensive enough –

and a total waste of money – everybody had at least two cars.

Finn hated the cars and the pretty houses and the expensive paint people used to paint their fucking fences.

He hated it so much, that when he walked past a neighbour that said hi to him, he only gave him a dangerous

glare. That poor man wouldn't dare to sleep that night, since Finn had practiced his dangerous glares in the

bathroom mirror for several hours.

When they got to Finn's parents' home, Bagffwaccp stopped. No matter how much Finn pulled the rope to

get it to move, Bagffwaccp had planted its hooves good against the ground. Finn cursed loudly. This was

definitely the work of his conservative parents, who'd sprayed the entire house with anti-unicorn spray.

Stupid rich people.

“Don't worry,” Finn said calmingly to Bagffwaccp, who wouldn't move no matter what he did. He sighed

heavily. There had to be some way he could make the unicorn ignore the sharp smell of anti-unicorn-spray...

Something like...

Aha! He knew it! With an elegant move he removed his checkered scarf and wrapped it around Bagffwaccp's

nose. This was perfect. The unicorn twitched a bit, but didn't seem to mind the incense smelling scarf very

much.

Finn tugged the rope again, and this time the unicorn followed him willingly. Finn smiled lightly for himself

as they walked. It was getting rather late by now, so hopefully his parents were asleep. If not, they'd get,

well, aggressive when he showed up with a real life unicorn on the door.

A couple rain drops started to fell when Finn opened the door to his parents' home. He would never consider

this his home, as the saying was “home his where the heart is”, and his heart was absolutely not here. His

heart were someplace else, more precisely with someone at his school who'd never even acknowledge his

existence. But Finn didn't care – love was just an overrated concept made by the capitalist consumerism-

based state. He didn't need it, just as he didn't need money or meat to survive, as long as he had his new best

friend with him.

The house was silent. They stepped into a large entrance room, where almost every wall was a mirror with a

wardrobe behind. Inside those wardrobes, they had countless amounts of fur coats and other forms of

clothing, plus a ton of shoes and things nobody ever used except once a year, during the annual family

gathering, which Finn – as with almost everything else – absolutely hated. He quickly took off his wet shoes

and threw them in the general direction of the shelves they kept their shoes, not caring if they missed. He

always took his jacket to his room, since he had a lot of things in it he liked to bring around.

Suddenly he realised that there was no way he could get Bagffwaccp up the stairs to his room. First off, the

stairs were too steep for a creature like that, and second off, he'd read somewhere that unicorns was unable to

go down stars. That might just have been cows, but better safe than sorry. He cursed lowly. Bagffwaccp

would have to stay in the living room tonight.

Thankfully, they managed to move silently through the house to the living room. It was a large room, large as

everything else in the house. The white walls were decorated by minimalistic pieces of shit, which his folks

considered art for some reason, that was basically white canvases with some blue sprayed on it. The sofas

were blue as well, directed at a large flat screen TV, where the family gathered every night to get their heads

pumped full of commercials and bullshit. Even the news were useless, as they were highly subjective and

only showed everything from the case of view from the rich and privileged people. The carpet beneath the

blue sofas was in a pastel blue colour, matching the several vases and flowers spread around in the room. All

of them blue. He was so tired of the colours, rather the lack of colours, so if Bagffwaccp broke anything, it

didn't really matter.

“Okay, you just stay here tonight,” whispered, stroking the amazing creature over the head. “And I'll fetch

you tomorrow before school. You're going to be fine?”

The unicorn gnawed lowly on the corner of the hideously blue sofa. Finn took that as a yes, so he smiled

gently to it. Tomorrow he would wash and perhaps even braid Bagffwaccp's mane, but now he was too tired

for such business. Bagffwaccp neighed lowly, but it was muffled by sofa. Good. Now there was little chance

that he woke up Finn's parents.

“Goodnight, Bagffwaccp,” Finn whispered and gave his friend a light kiss on its neck. It tasted like oil and

waffles.

The stairs didn't creak once when he sneaked his way up to his room. It sounded like his parents were already

asleep, and it meant that his younger sister was as well. He smiled a little for himself, confident with his plan

to wake up early the next morning, before his parents and sister, so they didn't notice the unicorn in their

living room. Then he'd bring him to school, and show everybody how ridiculously awesome unicorns

actually were.

A pair of tired, yet excited eyes met him in the bathroom mirror, which probably was the only piece of

furniture bought at Ikea and not some fancy-pantsy furniture store where nobody actually bought anything,

just looked at anything and cried because they were so bloody poor.

Finn liked the bathroom mirror, and sometimes he cried because they were so rich and the world was so

unfair.

After brushing his teeth and hair, he went to his own room.

If you asked a random person on the street – or anybody else, really – about what they thought of Finn's

room, they'd said that it was a very large, and very awesome, unique or lovely, depending on what age group

you asked. They're right as well. It was a large room – larger than most people's bedrooms had any

necessaries to be. For him though, it looked and felt like a prison cell. Well, it felt like a prison cell.

The walls were white, except for the middle of the eastern wall, which was sprayed black. It was about as far

as he'd gotten with his rebellious painting of his room before the fumes had made him pass out.

It was almost impossible to see any of the walls though, due to the heavy amount of posters covering them.

Most of them were unicorns; but there were a few band ones, as well as a couple of men with a various

amount of clothes. The last was not because he was gay, it was only because he knew it would annoy his

parents. (Which it didn't, since they were pretty accepting. They had a larger problem with their son's

obsessiveness with the horned silver horses.)

He threw his bag at the chair by his computer desk, which held a monster of a computer his parents had had

someone build for him for a hilariously high fee in a desperate effort to make him have a more interest than

radical politics and magical creatures. He'd never even turned it on.

It was already dark in his room, so he didn't bother to pull the large curtains for the enormous windows that

covered the northern and western wall, just flung himself down on the large bed. He clapped twice and the

lights shut off, leaving his room in darkness.

Finn fell asleep fully clothed. He did not remember to set an alarm.

Chapter 2.

Finnegan David Jones! Come to the living room RIGHT NOW.”

Finn woke with a start as Mum's voice rung through his room like a very, very angry mother shouting at her

son. A sinking feeling filled his stomach. There was no way Mum hadn't noticed Bagffwaccp. He glanced the

clock on his nightstand. Through the haze of sleep in his eyes, he could make out 12:32, glowing in the

darkness.

12:32...It was 12:33 now!

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He'd messed up. He'd messed up so terribly, terribly badly. Not only had

Mum and then of course also Dad knew. And if Dad knew, he'd probably make up some terrible, dadly

punishment, a punishment only a Dad could think of. Finn couldn't think of what it could be, but it would

probably include removal of both unicorn and his Finn's MacBook.

Why hadn't he woken up? Even though he'd forgotten to set his alarm, the sunrise should have woken him.

But then he remembered a very vital point in that plan B: it required that the windows weren't covered.

Which they were. By semi-automatic covers.

Goddamnit.

Quick as lightning he jumped out of bed and dashed through the hall, before descending the stairs to the

room known as the living room.S He wanted to abscond through the door to the outdoors, but a firm grip

around his upper arm stopped him abruptly and caused him to fall to the floor. Only a Dad's grip would make

such a thing possible. Finn did not dare look up.

“Finn.” It was Mum's voice. Dad very rarely spoke, and when he did, it was usually to tell dadly jokes. Finn

pushed his face against the soft carpet, deciding that it was a lot much better to get his nose full of dust and

whatever germs took resident in their carpet than meet Mum's fury. “Finn, what the fuck is this?”

“Uh...” Finn turned around. Very, very slowly. He'd been right. Mum was furious. In her hand, she held

Bagffwaccp by its mane. It was chewing on something that could only be her ipad, way beyond any hopes of

survival. “That is what appears to be a unicorn, Mum.”

“A unicorn,” she repeated in a Mumly way. She placed a hand on his hip in a motion that was just as Mumly

as her voice. “I can see that. Could you please tell me and Dad why there is a bloody unicorn in our

house?”

“Yeah,” Finn replied sourly, getting up in a sitting position. He glared angrily at her. Stupid Mum. She never

understood anything. “I found it in the forest and it was hungry, so I brought it home to feed it.”

Mum's eyes were as green as his, but glaring and enraged. They usually were. “I suppose you forgot to feed

it, then. Because it's eaten half of our sofa.”

“O-oh... Darn.”

“

She was right. Half of the sofa actually was gone. That wasn't good. That s was a designer sofa – one of a

kind – which Dad had proudly bought with his money he'd gotten from his boring job, which included a lot

of time spent on his PDA. Finn had written a mental note to have a check on that PDA sometime. But now,

Dad was watching him with cold eyes from the half-eaten sofa. His pride. His now half-eaten pride.

“It appears that you might be correct, Mum. I'm, uh, sorry, Dad.”

“Hi Sorry,” Dad said in a voice so cold it sent shivers down Finn's spine, “I'm dad.”

When Dad told jokes in a cold voice, it was time to get out of there. And it was just what Finn did. He got up,

shoved Mum away in a very rude way, grabbed Bagffwaccp by its mane and rushed out. Thankfully he had

slept fully dressed, but his feet were wearing nothing but a pair of old, dusty socks with a star pattern. Mum

ran after them.

“We have to do this,” Finn shouted to Bagffwaccp, who seemed to be running only because Finn was. Its

tongue fluttered, spraying the owner's neck with salvia. Finn swallowed hard and glanced at the unicorn's

back. This would be just like in the movie, The Prince and The Unicorn. A cult classic with a gross of five

hundred bucks, an analog video camera and a pack of crackers. They'd gained two dollars and fifty cents by

some old guy who'd walked by while they were filming, but that was pretty much it.

Finn had read everything about that movie, wishing he'd been the one to play the young prince. The prince

had swung elegantly over the unicorn's back to escape his evil witch stepmother. They'd ridden until dawn,

over the great fields of Ireland. If you could look closely at one of the scenes, you could see the farmer run

angrily after them with a pitchfork.

Reality wasn't quite as glamorous as the The Prince and The Unicorn, though. It was practically impossible

to actually get on a horse when it stood still – a unicorn no easier. But they weren't standing still, they were

in fact running down a road. Finn grabbed Bagffwaccp's mane with his other hand and tried to swing himself

up on its warm back. His leg didn't reach halfway over, and the speed caused him to trip big time. The last

thing that happened before his mind stopped functioning properly was cold asphalt pushed against his face

and an old woman saying something that could be along the lines of “why.”

*

Finn awoke in his own bed. He glanced around. Dad stood by the door, Mum sat on his bedside. They

seemed to be worried, hopefully about him. That would mean he wouldn’t get quite as much trouble as he

would if everything was all right.

“Finnegan,” Mum said, voice barely a whisper. Her earlier furious voice teary and puffy and red. It looked

like she'd been crying for only five minutes ago, and that she was going to cry again soon. “I...”

Dad took over.

“Finn,” Dad said, ripping himself loose from the wall he was leaning against. He wasn't wearing his hat,

which was very weird and unDadly of him. Finn didn't think he'd ever seen him without that light grey hat,

which always matched his outfits that consisted of suits in the same shade. “We have something... Very

important you need to know.”

“Yeah, I know I brought a goddamn unicorn to our house and it ate half our sofa.” He rolled his eyes and

glared at him. Mum was sobbing softly. “Are you seriously crying over a half-eaten sofa?”

“No, Finn. We're not crying over the sofa.” Dad took a heavy breath, and glanced away. He actually glanced

away. Finn was starting to get really, really nervous by now. This was not like Dad at all. No jokes, and

avoiding eye contact. Something very, very awful had to be going on right now.

“Oh dear God,” Finn said, his face reflecting the terror he felt within. He glanced from Mum with her

mascara streaks down her cheeks, to Dad whose hair actually had grey strips, though he'd always say he

didn't. “Mum...”

“Finnegan,” Mum sobbed, being one of very few who actually called him his birth name.

“No,” he said, sitting up a bit. His eyes were getting watery. “This can't be. Please say that it's not...”

“We-we're sorry, Finn,” said Dad, “but she-”

“How dare you get pregnant, Mum?” Finn raged. He could not believe it. Now they were the average family,

with house, two cars and three children. “What the-”

“No,” Dad assured with a sigh, “she's not pregnant.”

“Then what-”

“Finn, your sister.”

“She's 12!”

“She's not pregnant either, Finn.” Dad looked at him with very serious eyes. “She's gone.”

Mum made a hysteric sound that did not sound human at all.

“Gone?” Finn asked stupidly, scowling. “What kind of gone?”

“Gone. We thought she was at school, but she never showed up there. She's not in bed either.” Dad moved to

Mum to comfort her, laying his strong arm around her fragile shoulders. “We went to her room and-”

“What sick monster kindnaps little girls? Is this the society we live in?” Finn almost shouted, scrambling out

of his bed. “Is this the society we want, huh?”

“Finn, she's not kidna-”

“I'm going to stop this!” The seventeen-year old boy with greasy hair and star-patterned socks declared. “I'll

stop this madness!”

“Please listen to us, Finn. We knew what happened to her,” Dad said, but Finn did not listen. “Unicorns

doesn't appear to virgins, they... They... Eat virgins.”

If Finn had stopped to listen, a lot would have been avoided. But he payed no attention to Dad's voice and

words. He had put in some earbuds.

But he did not stop to listen. He had a fire burning in his heart. A plan. A plan which included some really

heavy music for his ears, Bagffwaccp, the boy who played prince in the school play to teach him the ways of

the knights and princes, and some women in distress.

The last part was the most important part.

If only Finnegan David Jones would have stopped and listened to reason and rhyme, he would probably still

be alive. Probably not, as there are a lot of causes of death in the 21st century, like slipping in the bathtub. But

then perhaps he'd lived a little bit longer than he'd done.

Chapter 3.

The next few days drew by like fat, lazy flies during a warm summer day. Repetitive, boring and with a lot of

questions he could been without. Even the funeral of his sister – which he believed was still alive, held

hostage by some sick, capitalist bastard somewhere out there to make him give up his quest to obtain a true

state – was terribly boring and uncreative.

It started off as a regular funeral. Finn had been forced into a suit, which made him look an awful lot like

Dad. All he lacked was a pipe, a hat and a grey way to look at life. They went in to the church, where

everybody seemed to be very sad and broken over what had happened. Finn knew that anger was the only

proper way to react to someone missing, not sorrow, but these people were too narrow-minded to understand.

When they, Finn, Mum and Dad, found their places, he heard a recognizable voice from the row behind,

apologizing for what had happened. It was his Grandma. Her hair was as grey as Dad's hat. It was almost like

they were somehow trying to look like each other, perhaps they were planning to merge together again

sometime, into some crazy monster whose goal was to destruct earth.

Finn could amuse himself on that thought for a while, but then the priest started talking about death and god

and who knows what, and he actually fell asleep, unable to keep his eyes open through the monotone preach

that was going on by the man with distorted world views.

–-

Finn did not wake before it was long over, and the church was fucking empty. Wow, what a wonderful family

he had! Leaving him behind like he was some kind of... thing you left behind. It was probably since he'd

came out from the closet the day before. Not as gay, or as transgender. Oh, if it only had been that easy. No,

Finn identified as unicornkin, which meant that he felt like he was a unicorn trapped in a man's body. He was

also omnigender, panromantic and demisexual, but his parents were crying to much (Mum was crying. Dad

had just looked at him with a very, very dadly and disapproving glance) to care about it. It had led to a fight,

especially when he declared that he would no longer go by the transphobic pronouns “he, his, himself”, but

by pronouns that fit how he felt: “hoof, hooves, hoofself.”

He could not understand why that was so bloody difficult to understand. It was simple! And it wasn't that

much to learn to use three new words, was it? God, he hated his parents so much. Why did they never

understand? Why could they not accept that he was a omnigender, panromantic, demisexual unicorn who

preferred hoof-pronouns?

All that he could think of while walking home was how stupid the world was. Or, not stupid. He shouldn't

really use that word, as someone had told him it was ableist as fuck, and therefore not the right word to use.

Now, what word had they told him to use instead?

Abstract. That was it. Or illogical. That would work as well. Yes, the world was truly abstract to him, not

making much sense in any logic form. He smiled to himself a little when he thought that sentence, almost

feeling like he was a Vulcan from Star Trek – different and confused over this illogical world. Except he was

in fact more logical than them, as it was truly stupid, sorry, abstract, to not show any feelings at all.

It took him three hours to get home, if you counted the thirty minutes he'd protested in front of the Subway.

He'd done it longer if he had to, but they'd closed since it was so late. He was sure that the reason they'd

really closed was since he was too clever and dangerous for them, though.

When he finally got home, Mum had gone to bed, and Dad was up watching Deadliest Catch as usual. Finn

couldn't see why anybody would be so interested in a show like that, so he just called it dadliest catch, as it

probably caught all Dads all over the country.

Just when he placed his foot on the bottom step of the stairs, he heard Dad's voice:

“Finn.”

Finn groaned for himself, but knew that if Dad first wanted something, it was impossible to stop him. And

now he wanted to... He shuddered, to talk. “Yeah?”

“Come here, I need to speak with you.”

Yep, there it was. Finn cursed loudly, hoping Dad would hear his rebellious word usage, and went to the

living room, where he leant lazily against the wall. He had not taken off his shoes, which was Mum's rule #1.

“Finn, I know you're going through a hard time, and it's not always easy to accept that you're... Homo-”

“Dad, I'm not gay, okay? I'm panromantic and demisexual!”

“Finn-”

“It's so easy for you to say!” Finn's eyes filled with tears. “Can't you see you're triggering me by questioning

my sexuality?”

“Listen, you're my only son and I-”

“Son? Son??” His voice grew to a pitch and he stepped towards Dad, crying loudly. “Why are you so fucking

transphobic? Why must you make this so difficult for me?”

“Because you're not-”

“I'm not what? Good enough for this fucking family? Is that it?”

“No.” Dad's eyes pierced through Finn's, making him glance away.

“Then what is it? I hope it's not something transphobic or ableist, but who the fuck knows when it comes

from you, you white cis trash.”

“We want you to come home right after school tomorrow. There's someone you have to meet.”

Finn scowled. “Who?”

“You'll see,” Dad said, actually smiling a little. He got up from his chair and started to walk away. “If you

don't show up, you won't get any allowance this month.”

“What?!”

“Goodnight.” Dad sighed, and added: “Son.”

The word made Finn panic, since he was not a boy. He was omnigender. He cried loudly for a while, then

made his way to his bed, where he again collapsed.

–-

The school day went surprisingly well. He only got picked on by Darwin – who seemed to have redeemed

himself as Finn's personal bully – once. Then the ugly redhead had snorted and walked away, shaking his

head as Finn was literally crying.

Now Finn was walking towards the house he had to live in. His parents's house, not his. It would never be

his. He hated it too much. The only reason he lived there was so he got his allowance, so he could buy games

and posters of the things he enjoyed. And the only reason he went straight (why not gay? Fucking

homophobic) home today, was because of the threat Dad had made. Dad always followed his threats.

A black, discreet car was parked in the front of his house. It seemed to be an electric car, which instantly

made Finn like whoever this person was a little more. But the car also seemed quite expensive, something

which meant that this individual had a lot of money, and would therefore probably be a capitalistic, white,

straight man.

He went in with a lump in his throat. Perhaps this wasn't a very good idea. It would be a lot safer to run away

and not have to meet this person.

But who knew? Perhaps he was going to be sent away? To a camp for other otherkin people?

He didn't want to put that at risk. It would be amazing to meet other people who felt just like him,

misunderstood by this cruel, disgusting trash world.