"Call me..."

Hello my name is Mona, however I'd prefer if you would call me Marzipan. No, I am not a confection of crushed nuts, but I do like to refer to myself as an abundance of flavors all whirled up into one. I come from a land far, far away, laced with cotton candy hedges and candy cane forests. I was given birth to in Ho-Ho Hospital, and was brought home to Butterscotch lane. Growing up in a house made of pure, churned, dark chocolate caused my nostrils to become prone to the warm smell of cocoa beans wafting from room to room. Scootering to school everyday on my Mike & Ike Moped with my Bubblegum books and Pixie Sticks pencils was an event stapled securely to my daily routine, and anything different would be completely Swedish-fishy. 

However as my 16th birthday is nearing, so is my plummet into the journey of adulthood. The adventure, the odyssey, the vagabondage; in 27 days, my venture to the Candy Castle sets sail. An extremely high-profile this event is, with exorbitantly strict privacy policies and rules not even my parents can inform me of. Although when an exchange student from Playtime Providence was visiting Hershey High, she spoke of some ancient American myth she had been told. According to her sources, there once was a game called Candyland. It was an amusement centered around the idea of accomplishing the struggling feat of reaching Candy Castle, including the rumored bumps encountered along the way. The tone in which she spoke of the game led me to believe that was and would be my answer to attaining Candy Castle in one piece. 

The road blocks she mentioned seemed absurd and almost foolish, yet succeeded in planting a seed of worry into my head. Crossing Rainbow Pass into Gramma Nut's cashew garden or encountering Lord Licorice and escaping his wrath of deadly vines seemed to be endeavors easily defeated, however the number of survivors altered my outlook on the matter. The though of getting trapped in the Gumdrop Gully and being taunted by Queen Frostine sent chills down my spine, and the more I heard the greater my worries grew. Yes, joining King Candy face to face with a life changing handshake was motivation not to have my taste of a candy cane while strolling through the Candy Cane forest be my last lick, however the mission that lies ahead is one of tremendous significance. 

And yet as I continue to worry, I must also keep in mind that I am Marzipan, the mixture of emotions, bubblegum blower virtuoso and lover of Cotton Candy. Meeting Plumpy and taking a bite of his deadly fruit should be the least of my worries, and until then, my count for how many licks it takes to complete a lolipop continues.