//------------------------------//
// City at War 
// Story: Vacant Niches 
// by Jongoji245 
//------------------------------//

When you lived in Florida, the only thing to worry are tropical storms. Well, that and alligators in your kitchen. You could just make it through the day with just shorts and a sleeveless shirt, even catch a few waves if you made good time with your homework. But now you’re away from The Sunshine State, much further north one would add. Just when you thought you got used to living in Colorado, even with the monster hunting and all, nothing got you prepared for your first legit winter.

It’s another school day; much as it pains yourself, you could no longer ignore the alarm. After stretching your still aching joints, you take a quick shower, get dressed and eat a quick breakfast. Sadly, those are the only easy parts for your first legit December. With your mother’s help, you don what Diver calls the “fat suit;” two layers of sweaters, three layers of hoodies, two zip-up jackets, two pairs of gloves, a pair of mitts, two pairs of sweatpants, six layers of socks, all topped off with a thick coat, jeans, and snow boots.

“There,” your mother huffs, “ready for action!”

Just when you want to protest from the building heat, but she moves you to the front door. For your hardship, and the spent money, it feels like a breath of fresh air to be outside. Of course, you can’t enjoy it for long, being on the clock before school. And unable to move your arms and legs to use your bike. You have to go to school the old fashioned way:

“Put one foot in front of the other…” You spoke before your mother wraps a scarf around your mouth. With stiff legs, you waddle clumsily as a penguin. You wish you can take the bus, but on icy roads, they are hard to come by. And this has become quite a conundrum. Everywhere you go, construction crews work tirelessly, but it’s not due to some executive order. Since the middle of November, gang activity is sweeping across town. It came first as simple store raids, but by December, it’s gotten worse, thus the construction companies. And yet it’s been frustrating that all of your older friends, even the younger Dapplewood, living, breathing superheroes, aren’t doing anything about it.

You finally arrive, among the last to arrive for the parking lot is already brimming full. But the journey isn’t over; you still have the stairs to climb up… if you can. Fortunately, the street salt has done its job, and you finally reach the foyer. Stiff as a dog toy, you turn to the side and shuffle left before gripping the handle. Suddenly, the door swings at your chubby clothing. You lose your balance and bounce down the stairs like a knucklebone before skidding to a halt on your back, motionless like an upturned turtle.

Speaking of whom, it isn’t long before Snips is the next person you see.

“Sorry, Anon.” He apologizes before he and Snails pick you up and carry you up the stairs, through the foyer, down the hall to your locker. The heat building in your body, the two numbskulls of the band work like clockwork undressing you.

“It’s like Christmas is coming early, eh?”  Snails giggled after pulling your third jacket.

Free from your fat suit, you swore you felt the heat seep from your body like coming out of a sauna. Down to only a sweater, a baggy pair of sweatpants and a grown appetite, you grab your books, cram your clothes into your locker, and make your way to the cafeteria. As expected, your band of friends is there. Only a few students here are eating the last minute meal before the day begins. You quickly get in line and get two plates of several pancakes, smoked sausage, and eggs piled on high. And the first thing you sit at your table, you wolf down both plates in just five minutes. Satisfied once more, you lean back and let a deep, relaxing sigh.

“I tell you,” you shift your gaze at Apple Bloom, “your grandma makes the best breakfast.”

“You should see her in the holidays.” She chuckles twirling her cup of orange juice.

You hear a jingle and turn your head to one of the TV monitors. After a cheaply done graphics intro, it fades to the anchorman shuffling his papers, a headline scrolls to the left,

Bloodstone Industries CEO Retires

“President of Bloodstone Industries, Torch, announces his retirement today. When our reporters asked him, he had this to say:”

The tv switches to the headman himself. From the stories you were told about Equestria, including a philosophy lesson, Torch was a massive, fire-breathing dragon, the lord of them all… until the time came for him to step down and put any potential heirs through a rigorous trial. This incarnation of him is best described as “travel sized” in the loosest sense; twice as tall as the podium he stood behind, a greater amount of scars than the last time you saw officer Clamp Jaw, and a jawline that would make Bruce Campbell jealous, and a voice that can rock the heavens.

“It gives me great displeasure that I must retire. Do not cry for me…” a moment of silence before he roars, “Cry for me!!!”

After the reporters sobbed on cue, the CEO adds, “Do not worry, business will continue to be prosperous.”

The TV returns to the anchorman.

“It’s still being decided who will take over. In other news, violent activity from the Diamond Dog gang continues. Local law enforcement has been able to-” The anchor motions the audience to pause with one hand while pressing his earpiece with the other, “I’ve just received grave news, the Diamond Dogs have just robbed the strip mall at Fillydelphia Street.”

“No!!!!” You turn to Button Mash yelling in anguish, “I just preordered a Wii-U!”

As he sobs, the news gets everyone to mutter and justifies your concern when the PA buzzes.

“Attention students,” Announces Principal Celestia, “In light of recent events, classes will be done at noon for the rest of the semester. You are strongly advised to come straight home and limit outdoor activities.”

After the PA buzzes again, the school bell rings; it’s time for students to come to call. With a heavy stomach, you try to get up. As you do, you hear from Cosgrove,

“Meeting in music hall after school.”

The first half day you had in a short while went by swiftly; as you venture to the music hall, you hear your classmates muttering about the severity of these gang attacks and how their “defenders,” including you, would deal with it. You enter the room and find not only your team but a few Predacons. Oddly, their leader Cogsworth doesn’t have his armor and sat in a wheelchair. You wish to speak out, but at the same time, you believe a few of the others would have the same thought.

“For now, though it pains me” Cosgrove turns his head slowly from looking at you and Dinky to the people at his left, “we keep to our rules. I am advising that you watch over your families until we get to the bottom of this. Now, are there any questions?”

“Yes.” Your interjection gets everyone turning their heads to you, “If we… Well, you... all are so strong, why aren’t we taking the fight to them? Every day, people are getting hurt out there and all we’re doing is-?”

“It’s just dousing a fire with gasoline.” You turn to Cogsworth, “I wasn’t in the right all the time and I know for a fact that we’d agree only to deal with the supernatural or anything the police wouldn’t handle.”

“So, we just wait until they shine some Bat Signal?”

“I’m afraid so.” Answers Chelsey.

“And what happens between then…?”

A long moment of silence, and seeing some uneasy looks, each of your team stand up and walk out the door. Before you do, a shadow looms over you, Cosgrove’s shadow.

“You ask a very important question, and it always pains me that we must do this.” He places his hand on your shoulder, “All we ask from you is to keep your mom safe and keep low for now.”

As you watch your boss leave, you feel something nudge your leg. You look forward, then down at Cogsworth.

“If it matters to you that much, I’ll have patrols throughout the evening.”  Before you ask another question, the Predacon leader answers, “We hardly slept last Spring, we can do it again.”

With a push with his arms, Cogsworth rolls out of the music hall, Darksteel and Skystalker behind him. A moment to silent venting, you go to your locker. While your classmates make haste, you continue your quiet seething. Maybe they’re right; until you get to the bottom of this, best to keep your guns holstered. After sighing, you pound your locker; luck isn’t on your side again, for the door pushes you to the ground and your fat suit collapses on top of you.

As you worked on your homework, time seems to fly faster than usual. True, you have learned about the whole “Earth’s tilting its axis,” but see it in action in this mountain town intrigues you. By five in the afternoon, you already have your desk lamp turned on. Ten minutes later, you close your math book and walk to the living room. There, your mother sat on the couch watching the news; nothing bad… yet. You grab some dinner and sit next to her just when she changes the channel to an episode of “Lost.” But word isn’t kept to the news channel; a line of text warning of these recent events is too much not to ignore.

“My, gang violence is on every channel….” You look at the screen with a furrowed brow, “Anon? Anon!”

“Hm?” You see your mother looking as puzzled as you are concerned.

“Are you okay?” Your mother motions to your dinner plate, “You haven’t touched your food.”

You look down; indeed, not even the blade of your dinner knife touched the leftover mashed potatoes. With a sigh, you place the fork where the knife is, and lift the tray with the other. You walk to the kitchen, grab some plastic wrap, and wrap your dinner for the evening.

“Anon?” You hear from your mom, getting you to stop before going any further.

“I’m sorry…” You  shrug her off again, “I have too much... on my mind?”

You go to your bedroom once again and sit at your desk. Your mind feels stuffed as your memory serves you no better as voices A-Z keep reminding to stay home while the police take care of the gang violence. But what if the gang violence reaches home? You never did tell Mom the real truth behind what’s going on over the past four months. It’s such a brain teaser, one that you can’t afford.

Suddenly, your ears pick up the window tapping. You pull apart the curtain then jump away. Scootaloo, all bundled up to the teeth, sat ahead of you. You open the windows and step aside to let her in.

“Scootaloo,” You whisper, “What are you doing here?!”

“Anon?” You now hear the door jingling. You turn to where Scootaloo is, or was; she’s nowhere to be seen. The door opens, and you turn to your mother, now confused as you are.

“Yes?” You mutter to your mother. A few moments of silence gets her shaking her head.

“Nevermind.” She looks to her left. “But close the window.”

As she leaves the room, you do just that and turn around before jumping back yet again. Scootaloo hung upside down using some kind of grappling hook.

“I was patrolling and just wanted to check up on you.” The winged Crusader twists herself like a gymnast and retracts the grappling coils that leave a couple holes in the wall, “Still a little upset?”

“Yeah,” You turn around, grab a stress toy, and start squeezing it, “and exams aren’t making it better.”

You look back at Scootaloo sitting on your bed and looking around your room.

“Cozy,” She looks around, pursing her lips, “but a little cramped. Anyway, when I get stressed, I just go out. Want to come?”

You look out the window; it’s snowing again. “Out there? I don’t want Mom to-”

“Don’t worry,” Scootaloo pushes one of your toy cars with her shoe, “we’ll be back before she even knows it.”

“But” You stammer, “didn’t Cosg-?”

“They didn’t say anything about recon.” She notices your puzzled. “What? You think that your words ever fall on deaf ears?”

“Okay…” You grab a few layers of your “fat suit,” just so you can still move your arms and neck, “But just to take my mind off things.”

After the short time it takes you and Scootaloo to reach downtown, the both of you stick to the rooftops. As you do, your worries get replaced with adrenaline as you leap from rooftop even with half of your winter clothes. And even with the dangers that abound the city, Christmas music still plays; you haven’t asked anyone yet, but you know for certain you’re not alone that too much Christmas music in one day gets on your nerves. Two rooftops forward, and a jump to the left, and you stop and stare at the sparkling plaza. There’s beauty on the other side of danger after all.

In this bliss, you look down then quickly shuffle back for cover. You peek from your hiding spot; below you in a dingy alleyway, two groups of people stood before each other. To your left is a group of elaborate trench coats and hats. To your right is a rugged band of creatures, the Diamond Dogs as they are called. One of the trench coats walks forward.

“You got the money?” You hear the person, a feminine voice as you could tell.

“You got the goods?” Asks the burly Diamond Dog.

After hearing a snap, one of her manservants tosses a briefcase, which is collected by one of the Diamond Dogs before he tosses a case half the size of the one now in their possession. One of the trench coats grabs the case, opens it, and shows it to his boss.

“This is half of what we agreed on.”

You shift your gaze, seeing a stout Diamond Dog step forward.

“Half as proof, other half when business is concluded.” He barks.

“I think not.” With another snap from her fingers, the other trench coats step forward and pull out their guns. When you see the Diamond Dogs pull out some heavy artillery, you immediately retreat. It isn’t long before you hear guns and rockets blazing below you.

“Still thinking about being the hero?” You look to your right and see Scootaloo huddled next to you.

You keep yourself curled up in a ball; you fought monsters, and one instance at the Moon, but none of them had a gun. All it takes is one bullet to end even the most powerful of beasts. You hear a thundering roar approaching, and a harsh light in your eyes like the summer sun. Said sun looms over you; it’s a helicopter.

“Attention!” The pilot announces, “We have you surrounded!”

Indeed, police cars and armored SWAT vehicles are already around the premises, but the two gangs are already three steps ahead, with only one Diamond Dog being caught. You feel a hand on your shoulder.

“See, it’s like that scientist said,” Scootaloo motions her hand at the alley, “‘life finds a way.’”

“Yeah,” You get up and start jogging away from the chaos, “and I would like to be away before life finds another way.”

A half hour of leaping buildings and you're close to your neighborhood. After a good exercise to clear your mind, you now want a good night’s sleep. Jumping the last building, you shuffle your winter clothes before something occurs in your mind: you don’t feel cold. Perhaps you could afford just a little exercise in a weekend. But in your deep thought, you bump into Scootaloo.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask while walking around her. Her expression is horrifying

“Anon,” She lifts her hand, “tell me that’s not your house.”

You immediately look ahead and start running. Your house has been broken into, your neighbors surround it as you reach the front door.

“Mom!?” You yell when you come inside, where the damage is much worse. Books are everywhere, food is spilled over the kitchen. You rush upstairs to your mother’s room; no one there either. You fall on your knees, shocked and appalled. As you stare into the unknown, Scootaloo enters from the window, still as shocked as you are before she presses on her earpiece.

“Cosgrove, we have an emergency situation!”

As she continues, you stand up and walk to the window. Your mind returns to its heavy pondering. Would it have been better to stay at home? Maybe, but at the same time, you could have been beaten to a pulp trying to protect her. You grip the window sill as your sorrow turns to anger. Then, something passes your eye. You look further ahead; a few unknown figures are sneaking between houses. Much as you’ve been told to not go at it alone, the stakes feel too high to wait for help and so… You jump out from your window and take your pursuit by following their tracks. Though a faint cry wisps in your ear, you ignore it and continue your pursuit.

Again the flurries and icy roads, your pursuit brings you to a large warehouse. You hide in a corner and take a peek. It’s not long before a few people in trench coats step out the front door.

“Is that all of them?” One of them ask.

“Yep,” Another answers, barring the door, “that'll send a message.”

As soon as they are out of sight, you rush at the door, pull away the bar and storm the building filled with crates as big as bison.

“Mom?” Your voice echoes the room, no response. “Mom!”

After jogging like mad, your ears pick up a faint moan. You pick up the pace, jump a few crates and find, not your mother or any other hostages, but more trench coats, unconscious and bound up. Not even close to what you’re looking for, you groan and grip your hair when your eyes pick a blinking, red light. You approach it; every second that passes, the number grows smaller. It makes you say,

“Oh no.”

With all your strength, you take the unconscious trench coats through the emergency exit; the alarm should draw in some law officer or Maximal to take them in for questioning. Once that’s over, you grab the bomb and take it to the center of the warehouse.

“Okay, Anon, just cut open the red-” After removing the case, you find no wires, only turn dials “okay… this is a problem.”

The clock is ticking, your mind is telling you to run, but this warehouse might have some necessary supplies, food especially. You take a deep breath and look at the bomb again.

“Okay,” you examine the structure closely, “maybe something here can give me some kind of clue.”

You keep examining the device, but the constant beeping keeps aggravating you. Taking another deep breath, the answer becomes clear: only one of the four dial is turned slightly to the right.

“Well,” You pinch the dial “modus ponendo tollens.”

You close your eyes and turn your wrist counter clockwise. No beeping… No explosion. You sigh with relief; now all that’s left is to find your mother… and perhaps get some joshing from the boss. You run for the emergency exit and enter the arctic with a bunch of police officers.

“Down on the ground, now!” One of them shouts, in which you immediately comply, hands behind your head. With Cosgrove and Dapplewood’s parents being cops, you imagine it’d wouldn’t take long to get out.

Just as you are taken into one of the cars, a strange energy wave pulses out of the warehouse swiftly reaches the cars and shuts them down with a bit of circuit static from the driver panel. While handcuffed in a locked vehicle, you look around as best as your space allows before being dragged out from the vehicle. In a short moment, your hands are free.

“Go home, kid.” You hear from a cop, one with a navy blue hair of two colors.

But where is home? The entire city is pitch black. No Christmas music; all that is heard is the wind, the muttering of civilians and the cries of babies and dogs. Instead of coming home, you use the moonlight to follow the street signs to Canterlot High… A dark and gloomy Canterlot High. Entering via the gymnasium doors, you see several oil lamps lined up throughout the great room, almost like Midnight Mass comes early.

You hear the doors close behind you before hearing footsteps, some heavy like boots and some with a mechanical clang.

“Glad you’re still in one piece.” You turn around and see Scootaloo looking at you sternly.

“Scootaloo, I-”

“Forget about it,” You turn around and see Cosgrove stepping out of the shadows, “we have pressing business to finish.”

“Does it have anything to do with…?” You swirl your finger at the light fixtures.

“Yep,” You hear from Chesley, in her anthro-mode, hands held together beneath silken fur sleeves, “and it’s gonna be that way for a while.”

“That was an electromagnetic pulse.” Dinky adds, “No ground bridge, no cell phones, no transforming Predacons.”

You look to your left; Darksteel and Skystalker are still in their beast modes. The Ursagryph tried to transform, but only part of the beak retracts before returning to its original length. Even Cogsworth is affected by this, he had to tear off his helmet and he still has the sword from his right forearm and a now useless plasma gun barrel on the other.

“So, what’s the plan?” You walk over to Cosgrove, “How are we going to get my Mom back?”

“Getting your mom back,” You turn around again; a newcomer is in the picture: a sky blue woman older than your pears with even darker blue hair and clad in a yellow business suit, “is how Plan A will turn out.”

“Who’s this broad?” You ask.

“Ember,” Cogsworth answers, “daughter of former president of Bloodstone Industries and crime boss Torch.”

“Whoa, whoa, ‘crime boss’?” Your mind is now filled with questions, “Your town had an organized crime lord this whole time!?”

“That’s why we’re asked not to deal with police business.” Cosgrove justifies.

“So how does she fit with our business?”

“Your business is crowd control. Should this plan work,” Two men step beside Ember, “I take Stucco’s gang and the business from this town, leaving you with the just the Diamond Dogs. I told your boss where we will meet.”





A short while after Ember and her cohorts leave the gym, you, your posse, and the Predacons stand on a roof next to the destination. You kneel on the ledge, waiting for any signal to jump in, save your mom, and get out of there. Squinting a few dark corners, you spot a few officers and SWAT personnel armed to the tooth. You look to your left and ask Diver,

“What does that lady mean by ‘crowd control?’”

Interrupting her meditation, the obese Junior gives you a stink eye and answers, “We’re Plan B.”

You gulp; every one of you, ready to go in and risk it all just to save your mother and a few others from people who have weapons that can kill you with a pull of a trigger. A shadow swoops over you and lands next to Cosgrove. Zipper whispers; information perhaps on how they’ll storm the gate.

“Okay, everyone,” You stand up just as Cosgrove turns around, “gather around. Though Ember has given us her plan, we’re going down with ours. Zippers scouted out the perimeter, and found seven hostages, your Mom included too Anon.”

Hearing that, you let out a sigh.

“We’ll send out a three-pronged infiltration. Cogsworth and I will have many of us deal with any extra’s. Sweetie Belle, Indigo, Dinky, Tex, I need you to cause a few… light shows. Scootaloo, Rumble, Anon: you will follow Zipper through the air ducts and get the hostages. After Shining Armor gets the word out to storm the building, I want everyone out and back at Canterlot High ASAP.” you notice Cosgrove’s eyebrows rise a little, “Remember, no electronics, no Ground Bridge, no guns. I’m not expecting many of us coming out of this without a scar, but try to come back in one piece.”

As you watch Cosgrove walk across from you, you clasp your hands together and silently pray. Pray that you’ll get your mother, pray that everyone will get out safely. This is your big test; if you fail, you will be seriously injured at least.

“All right,” You look up, Cosgrove is now walking to where your sitting, “show time.”

Despite being with a few individuals as big a bear, everyone is still stealthy like a ninja as you join your group and climb down the chilled metal of the air duct. Having to risk air duct on your hands and knees persuaded you to crawl faster if only Rumble wasn’t in the way. Fortunately, it isn’t long before the three people in front of you take a space in four-way intersection with a vent in the center. With extreme finesse, the vent is pried away. Zipper pulls himself forward and looks down the man-made hole for a moment, then looks up and points downward while nodding.

After quietly dropping to the floor you find that “hostage” in the plural is no joke. True to Cosgrove’s word, there are indeed seven bound and blindfolded hostages and it takes you just a few seconds to find your mom and release her.

“Anon? What are you-?” She questions before noticing your friends, “Aren’t those your- Anon, what’s going on?”

“Not now, Mom.” You replied as you untie the next hostage, “we gotta get you outta here before-”

Suddenly, you feel the sharp breeze brush your back with a little heat and rubble. You look behind you and find a few Diamond Dogs packing heat.

“That happens.” You answer with a flick of your hand before grabbing your mother’s wrist and run towards the hole before yelping and taking a few steps back from a few barrages. Sneaking a peek reveals trouble gave Cosgrove’s plan a hitch. Shining Armor, Clamp Jaw, and Claire have their hands full against a few other Diamond Dogs. A few Predacons join the fight as well, their thick, metallic hides offering some protection.

“Come on, Anon!” You hear from Scootaloo

“We’ll try the back door.” Going through said back door got your hearing and feeling the fight throughout the building.

“Anon,” You hear from your mother in a panicked, angry voice, “will you explain just what the hell is going on!?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I didn’t think you’d believe me!” You look at your mother giving you the look as you continue pulling her, “Look, what I’m trying to say is-”

Both of you stop when something smashes through the right wall. It was Apple Bloom, all Ponied Up with her clothes a bit torn and her bow partly charred. She turns looks to the both of you; the left side of her face is a bit red.

“Anon, Misses.” She greets before staggering to her feet and going back to the fight at hand. You turn to your mother pointing a shaky index finger

“Did that girl have cat ears?”

“Pony ears. Thing is for three years now, my friends and a little boy have been fighting-” You pull your mother to the right to avoid a Diamond Dog tossing Chelsey, “fighting magical creatures, and believe me, it took me to the moon and back! I’ve been on the moon!”

“You’ve been to the moon!?” You mom explains.

You soon reach the exit; no heat of the battle so far. You pull your mother one last time, but you keep yourself at the door. Your mom is speechless; she wants you to be with her, get out of here.

“I have a job to do, Mom. I’m sorry.”

You close the door and return to the hole where Apple Bloom came crashing in. You look around; Diver, Rumble, Dapplewood, and Chelsey were breaking the Diamond Dogs’ guns.

“Guess the fight’s just about even.” You mutter before looking around again; Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Zipper were dealing with a few trench coats. You dodge a few magic blasts from above. You look around again; Cosgrove, Cogsworth, and Ember give it them all against the lead trench coat, holding her own quite well using an empty rifle for a weapon against brute strength, an empty plasma cannon and arm blade, and Ember’s katanas. “Guess four against one can help, but I gotta play this smart.”

After grabbing a piece of wood, you hug the walls while approaching the three against one match. When you are within striking distance, and when Cogsworth pushes her back, you smack her on the leg, then jump away from Ember slicing the empty rifle and Cosgrove grabs her by the head and pins her against the wall long enough for Rumble to tie her down. As she is tossed aside, your ears pick up the doors slamming open; the cavalry has arrived.

“Tangy Stucco,” You see Shining Armor present his badge, “you are under arrest.”

As you gasp, you look at Cosgrove turning over to Ember; in better detail, whether it was from the explosion or not, his right side was covered in black, sharp bits. And his expression is one to match.

“Leave.” He raises his left hand, closing his “claws,” “Now.”

With a deep breath, Ember collects her weapons and herself and walks out the door. You look around; while you were lucky enough to avoid injury, that same luck isn’t so much as Cosgrove warned. Diver held her massive belly, stopping on occasion to rotate a bloody hand. Chelsey’s right arm hung loosely as if broken. Scootaloo, Zipper, and Rumble have their wings frayed, the Maximal and Crusader having a few large bruises. And there’s Dapplewood, bruised, his prized sunglasses damaged, and a few cuts on his cheek. A female officer, his mother you presume, leads him out the building. However little you participated, one way or another, the job’s done.





But it’s not exactly over for you. This was too much for your mother to handle and so, hard as it was, it was decided to leave home. A few days later, the both of you pack your boxes, but the last you heard, it’ll be a long while before the power goes back on and your mom can call a rental truck.

“So, where are we going?” You ask after putting a snowglobe in a box.

“San Antonio.” She answers, “No monsters or freaks of nature! Just warm air and beaches just like the good old days.”

But at what cost? You were just warming up to being in Colorado, and now after four months, you are leaving everything behind once again. A ridiculous cause, but there is the saying, “Mother knows best.”

But then… an engine rumbles. A car engine working after an EMP? You and your mother rush to the front porch; the car is indeed working and a trailer is hooked up behind it. The both of you walk over, your mother hopping in the car and turning it off, while you grab a letter pinned under the windshield wiper. It was a farewell card; fourteen little statements, signatures, and two one-hundred dollar bills. The center of the card reads



“Travel at night time, there are stupid people after all in power outages. - C.”



While wondering the reason for the hundred dollar bills, your ears pick up a clopping sound echoing the streets. There is only one place in this town you know who has horses. You walk around the car just in time to see a wagon being pulled, Scootaloo just rushing to hop in after delivering a blanket. Sitting at the back was Dapplewood looking at you long enough to wave you goodbye.

Dusk soon follows after you pack everything in the trailer, your mom starts up the car, and you take yet another long journey to your new home. In pure darkness, and a large trailer blocking the rearview, all you can do is sit there and just wait for the town to disappear. You didn’t sleep this time… You couldn’t go to sleep, you didn’t want to sleep. You take one look at the side view mirror when a few lights pierce the fog. Though it’s too late for you to convince your mom to turn back, you smile and lean back on the car seat.

“Hope shines eternal.”