In my innocent youth, I rode a gorgeous Butterscotch pony. Though she was stationary and had fake fur, she was as real to me as any horse. She was the most important part of my daily childhood life. I rode to far-off castles in the sky, and won the gold medal in the Olympics. I would save the day and marry a handsome prince. I needed Butterscotch to be my friend, and stick with me to the end. After school, I would rush home and put on my fanciest gowns (A.K.A. My $5 Aurora dress), and go on my adventures. Her swanky stable
was upstairs in my playroom, the best place to pamper my closest friend. I would feed her only the finest carrots to be found and dress her with warm blankets in the winter. She was more than my BFF, she was always there for me.

But when friends came to my house, they would laugh and sneer. “Your to old for this!”, ” I can’t believe you still have that”. How could I ever let go? She was my only company. Then I realized, I’m getting older, I have to let go. My parents cleared out my fabulous wardrobe, and took my best friend away. My dolls and Without her, I will no longer visit the castles in the sky, I will never marry a handsome prince. I will never wear lavish gowns again, and I will never win the gold medal. I stopped dreaming. My innocent youth shriveled away, and I started to live in the real world. Today, that is what I regret the most.