//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Who am I? Where am I? // by Ferote //------------------------------// [Even though the feedback (As of me writing this) says the the italics are noticeable enough, I am still going to switch to underline. Why? Why not? Fuck if I know.] The pain in my sides is becoming unbearable. It seems like I’ve been running for miles. I look back and I can’t even see Sweet Apple Acres anymore. My lungs are on fire, but for some reason I keep going. “No, I’ve got to stop before I hurt myself.” I slow from a brisk run to the pace of a business man. While I slow I notice how hard my heart is beating. My face feels hot and the pain in my legs, which was hardly noticeable while I was running, becomes almost unbearable “Holy shit, I can really power through the pain” I begin to chuckle, but stop because of a sharp pain in my side. “Fuck, hurts to laugh. I need to sit down for a little bit. That tree looks like a nice spot.” My quick stride turns into a slow shuffle. When I reach the tree I fall onto the ground. My thoughts becoming jumbled and almost incoherent from fatigue “Grass feels nice…” {Third} :Back at the boutique, just after Michael jumps through the window: “Did he just jump through the window? What a ruffian.” She shakes her head with disgust at the thought of getting dirt on her fur. “But he did ask for the clothes, and he said he needed them. I will make them, no matter how…drab they may be.” She moves over to her to a mannequin, but shakes her head. “Silly Rarity, you can’t use a pony mannequin for human clothes.” She mutters to herself. *Thud* “What was that?” She stops moving to see if she can hear anything else, but is disappointed by the silence. “Strange, must be nothing.” She walks over to the desk, floating a pencil with magic “Piece by piece, stitch by stitch.” “Ugh, not again. What is it this time?” I open my eyes. I remember what happened. I glance at the sun and find that it is getting close to sundown. “God damn it. Am I ever going to get some normal sleep? You know where I don’t pass out.” I get up, but slow when the pain from my legs comes back to me. “That’s going to be really fucking sore tomorrow.” When I get to my feet, I continue on to Ponyville. “God only knows what this place has at night. And I want it to stay that way.” (twenty minutes later) I continue my steady jog down the road. I am about to make camp, but am surprised and relieved when I see a smudge on the horizon “HALLE-FUCKING-LUJAH, THERE IT IS! Ow.” I continue my relentless pace with renewed vigor at the sight of my destination. “Come on man, just a little further. You can do this. You can do this. I can do this.” “DOUBLE TIME!” I push myself even further, pushing my legs, swinging my arms. I was moving at a dead sprint, not caring about the burning in my legs. (Five more minutes) I had finally reached Ponyville. I didn’t stop running because I knew that if I stopped that the exhaustion would catch up to me. “No time for anything special. I need to get this done yesterday.” I run up to a pile of crates, practically a repeat of earlier. I run along the rooftops, much more carefully this time, searching for the boutique. I see it coming up, and jump off of the rooftops. I roll to keep my legs intact, and I keep on running. I run around the boutique. “There it is, my hat.” I reach towards the ground, grabbing my hat without slowing down. I run by the same window I jumped out of, it’s still open. “I’ll come back tomorrow for my clothes Rarity, something came up. Sorry!" I pause just long enough to make sure she heard me, then I run to the creek. I grab what seems to be a pole and run to the library, following the same path I did the first time. I continue down the row of houses, occasionally switching rows to stay on the right path. I pass by a hole, and I feel quite a bit guilty. “It’s okay. I know where they are.” I keep on running until I get to the end of the row. The library is just ahead. I place the pole on the support beam, the hay burrowing down on contact, and pole vault onto the library balcony. “And he sticks the landing. Ten points from the Russian judge.” I hobble forward, the cost of my efforts finally catching up with me. I knock on the door, a sleepy eyed Twilight greets me. “Hi Twilight. I’ll explain tomorrow. Too tired right now. Which way is the guest bedroom?” She slowly lifts a hoof, pointing at the second door on the right. “Thanks.” “Night Michael.” “Good night.” {Third} “Okay, the streamers should go here, OOH I KNOW, the balloons should be the same color as his eyes! The banner is up now. Wait, is that how was his name spelled? Let me just look back in the chapters…there it is. Yes, I did spell it right. Wait, the colors shouldn’t be this bright, he likes camouflage. Maybe there should be a military theme. It seemed that way from how he walked anyhow. Oh, looks like we’re getting to the end of the word count. There are brackets anyway.” [Saved by the bell is playing in the other room. I just had to put in something. Question Is it still a wall of words? If so then tell me how to improve. Unlike most people, I enjoy it when people critique my stories. As I said in my first story, however bad it was (read, horrible), Come at me bro.]