I have grown to be quite fond of my current owner after watching over her for 14 years. I probably know Amanda better than she knows herself. From my vantage point, I can see anything and everything. I remember when she was only a few days old and her parents brought her through the door of her room and layed her down in her cradle, which had been situated in her room the day before. Of course, being first-time parents, the didn’t know the extent to which Amanda would be crying. They quickly realized how much easier it would be to keep her cradle in their room, so I didn’t see her for another few months.  I remember when she was three years old and had picnics with her stuffed animals. She was such a creative child. At three years and six months, Natalie was born. There were a few hours where they tried to move me into Natalie’s room, but Amanda would have none of it, and after a brief tantrum, I was right back onto the wall. I sat with Amanda as she sped through her elementary years. Her first first lost tooth was a big deal, and I stood guard as her dad crept into her room to leave some money under her pillow. I witnessed her turn from a petite little kindergartener to a smart, sassy fifth grader who was starting to figure out who she was. Of course, my life wasn't always like this. There was a time before I lived on the wall of Amanda’s room.

I was crafted by an old woman who specialized in painting, carving, and drawing. She spent a great deal of time painting me, and when she was done, she would often pick me up and admire me. I vividly remember the day that her grandchildren came to visit and she scolded them when the even came into the same room as me. Her daughter got mad at her for caring more about a painting then her own grandchildren. She left and the old woman sat down and cried. She cradled me and told me that she would have to part with me. She murmured something about Karen, and then set me in a box.
The next thing I remembered, I was awake. In the first second, I knew that something was off. I was in the same box, but there was a new, unfamiliar sensation. It was making me nauseous. It was almost as if we were… flying. Could it be possible? When the old lady’s daughter was visiting, I would hear her talk about flying, but I never dreamed that I would actually be doing it. I had a few hours to wonder where we were going before I blacked out again. This time, I woke up on a cluttered wall with a sign above me that said “clearance” in bold letters. The air was laced with a faint but vivid aroma of salt. I recognized the smell from dinner at the old lady’s house. The ground was made of sand, and seagulls flew overhead. All around me were different pictures, paintings, and drawings of various value. On a table across from me, a few sculptures were set up. Customers meandered around, a few expressing interest in us, but most moving on to the next booth. Their children marveled at the light bouncing off of my horn. After a few hours, a man with two girls behind him walked up to the cash register and asked
“How much is the one with the unicorn on it?”
“That will be $400 without a frame, however if you do want a frame I will give it to you half- price.”
The man talked to his daughters for a few minutes and then grudgingly said
“We’ll take it with the silver frame”.
After a car ride with the girls, in which they would not put me down, we arrived at their house. I was set on the kitchen table, while the man, whose name I had learned was Daddy, unloaded the groceries. A lady, covered in dirt and grass, walked in from outside. The youngest girl, Jenna, picked me up and skipped over to the lady, whose name was Mommy. Mommy made eye contact with Daddy, who shrugged. Mommy sighed and walked back outside. Mommy came inside later and hammered a nail into the wall for Jenna to hang me up in her bedroom, while Sarah stood outside with a viciously jealous look. That night, Jenna stayed up late just staring at me. She picked me up off of the wall and held me. As she was going to put me pack, I felt a falling sensation, a bit like the flying I felt on the plane, but more sudden and shorter lasting. She gasped and hurriedly picked me up and hung me on the wall. I felt bare, like I was missing something.
She finally fell asleep around 11' o clock. The next night, she went to bed early, around 8 o'clock. This continued for a few weeks until one day, Jenna spent all day packing her bag, trying to decide which pajamas were the coolest. That night, she wasn't in her bed like usual, and around 9, Sarah cracked open the door, waited a few moments, and then hesitantly stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She looked around the room, as if scanning for danger. There was none, so she tiptoed forward, taking exaggerated care to not touch anything. I puzzled over what she could be doing. Will she sleep in Jenna's bed tonight? Why would she do that? Before my brain could process what was happening, Sarah lifted me off of the wall and, carrying me underneath her arm, took her same deliberate pathway back out of the bedroom.
Sarah tried to walk briskly as we traveled back to her bedroom, but she couldn't for fear of dropping me. She was trembling slightly, and I could feel her goosebumps. Mommy was sipping coffee and distractedly reading the newspaper, and Daddy was vacuuming the living room, so neither of them noticed Sarah. We reached her room and she nimbly slipped through the door. I was stashed under her bed, and she went back into the living room so as to not make her parents suspicious.
The next day, I heard a muffled shout through the blanket I was clothed in. Jenna had come home from her sleepover and discovered my absence. Sarah rushed over to me and attempted to fix my covering, which resulted in one of my hooves being uncovered. A thundering sound came from the staircase, and she pulled out a book and laid down on her bed. Jenna dramatically pushed open the door. She was breathing hard, and I could practically sense her distress.
"What did you do with it?!?!"
"Do with what?"
"You know what."
"No, I seriously don't"
"I see it right there. It's under your bed."
Jenna grabbed me and marched over to Mommy and Daddy to show them the evidence. Sarah layed down and cried.
Mommy and Daddy waited until the next day to call a family meeting.
"Jenna, we tried to give you a gift for behaving so well in school, but it's obvious that you couldn't handle it. You broke the corner off of the frame, for heavens sake! And Sarah, don’t think that we’ve forgot about you. How could you let your jealousy get the best of you? We expected more from an 11 year old."
"Since obviously neither of you deserve something as expensive as this, we've decided to give the painting to your aunt Lorie. She is pregnant, and I’m sure she would love this as a shower gift.”
“But Daddy…”
“ No buts. Now get ready for school or you’re going to miss the bus.”
I resided in the basement for a few months before being wrapped in a box and taken to a room that was full of middle-aged woman. The was one woman in the center of the room whose name was Lorie. She had an aura of enthusiasm, excitement, and happiness about her. There was absolutely nothing negative. She was unwrapping boxes and finding joy in things like diapers, bottles, and onesies. When she unwrapped my box, she got choked up at the thoughtfulness of it, and the fact that it matched the color scheme in her soon-to-be daughter’s room.
“ Oh Deann, it’s so beautiful. It will go perfectly with Amanda’s crib.”

You all know how the story goes from there. I grow up watching Amanda and feeling a sense of protectiveness over her. I will try and be her guardian for as long as I can, even I can’t really, you know, actually move. And who knows, I may continue being passed down the family tree for generations to come.