//------------------------------// // Painting // Story: Live a Little // by Astrocity //------------------------------// “Have you ever seen a Breezy, Goldie? Oh, they’re just so small and adorable,” Fluttershy gushes, going into detail about the little creatures. “Maybe I can introduce you to them when they come around next time.” I grunt and nod. I love our one-sided conversation. I love the way she talks, the way she paints a picture for me out of nouns and verbs and adjectives. I love the pauses and syllables that accompany her acrylic words. When I close my eyes, it’s as if I was with her when she faced a dragon or traveled to the Crystal Empire. I can smell the smoke and feel the biting cold of the frozen North. When she mentions a delightful cup of tea she had yesterday, I guzzle down her words and let it fill me with warmth. The way she talks isn’t that different from another pony’s, but it tickles the right side of my brain. It’s like taking a breath of fresh air whenever she speaks. With all these thoughts in my head, I’d like to think I was maybe a poet once, or perhaps a writer. Maybe I was neither and was really someone who always had her head in the clouds. I'd like to meet the pony I was before. We arrive in town. It is like my first arrival in Ponyville, only this time I'm not alone. There are a few ponies who notice Fluttershy and say hello to her. However, their greetings stop short at the sight of me, unsure of what to say to someone they have never met. It’s all awkward smiles from them. I can’t relieve the tension either because I, too, am unsure of what to say to them. I avert my eyes in the hopes of saving myself from further embarrassment. Noticing my discomfort, Fluttershy says, “You don’t have to be afraid. These are really nice ponies, Goldie.” A dejected groan slips out from me. She frowns as we walk in the silence brought upon by my dour mood. But then, she smiles. “You know… I once took a class on being more assertive.” I turn to her and raise my eyebrows. I’m a bit dubious of her claim, but she has certainly piqued by interest. “There was a minotaur who taught the class. His name was Iron Will, and one of the things he taught me was: ‘Don’t be shy. Look them in the eye.’” I nod and think. It’s good advice, but Fluttershy still doesn’t seem to be the all that assertive even after taking such a class. “How’d...it go?” I ask. She looks away and blushes. “Um, it didn’t turn out so well for me,” she says, “or for anyone else for that matter.” I don’t pry any further. “Okay. I’ll...try,” I say, and she smiles. We stop in front of bakery. The building reminds me of a gingerbread house with its frosting-like decorations. It’s dark inside the windows. “Well that can’t be right,” Fluttershy says. “Sugarcube Corner should be open right now.” She walks through the front door with me in tow. Something isn’t right. Fluttershy yelps as the door closes behind us, swallowing us in the darkness. The lights turn on, and I am confronted by many, many ponies. “Surprise!” There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, and bright, colorful balloons cover every corner of the room. The floor is littered with confetti. A pink mare bounces towards us with a party horn in her mouth. “Surprise! Do you like it? Pretty nice, huh?” I can’t get a word in as the words flood out of her mouth in torrents. “When I heard there was a new pony in town, I just had to throw you a welcome party! So, I invited everyone in town, but there are some that couldn’t come or were running late. Oh, my name’s Pinkie Pie! What’s yours?” My mouth moves, but nothing comes out. My name is on the tip of my tongue, but it hides in the safety of my mouth, where no one can see it. Fluttershy comes up beside me. “This is Goldie, Pinkie,” she says for me. Pinkie shoves a party horn into my mouth and a party hat on my head. “It’s nice to meet you, Goldie! Do you like the party? Well, do you? Do you?” Fluttershy comes to my aid again. “Goldie, doesn’t talk much,” she says, glancing at me. “She’s shy.” Pinkie seems to nod in understanding. “Oh, okay! You’re going to like Fluttershy a lot, Goldie. Why, I’m sure you two have lots in common to talk about!” Her eyes light up. “Oh, oh, oh! I should introduce you to everyone in town. That way, you’ll have more friends!” Everything around me becomes a blur as a pink hoof hooks around my shoulders and pulls me through a sea of ponies. I can hear Fluttershy shout something in her little, quiet voice, but it is lost in the cacophony of noises. I’m brought to a mare with three smiling flowers for a cutie mark. “Miss Cheerilee, this is Goldie. She’s new in town!” Pinkie says. The mare smiles at me. “Hi, nice to meet you.” I’m not sure what to do. I look around for Fluttershy, but I don’t see her. I turn back to the mare, who is still smiling at me. I gather up whatever’s left of my courage and look into her eyes, doing my best to give a friendly smile. Don’t be shy. Look her in the eye. Her smile breaks, and there is a look of terror on her face, though I hardly notice since my eyes are fixated on hers. It never occurred to me that I should blink every once in awhile. I have a strong urge to find Fluttershy . “Oh, um, this has been great, but I need to go get some...punch! That’s it. Punch.” She nervously chuckles and trots away. I don’t even get a chance to brood as Pinkie pulls me away again. “Come on! There are plenty of other ponies I want you to meet.” I groan. With each successive pony, I feel worse than before. Eye contact is, as I’ve found out, not the answer to my dilemma. In fact, it has only made it worse. At one point during the party, a mare ran away screaming, which Pinkie described as her being "excited" to meet me. In the crowd of ponies, I see a pegasus with light pink mane. Fluttershy spots me and finally puts a stop to my torture. “Goldie, there you are!” I let out a sigh at the sight of her. “Are you alright?” “She’s great!” Pinkie answers for me, bouncing in place. “I had her meet so many ponies, and I think they all like her!” “Well, that sounds nice,” she says and notices my pleading look. “But I think Goldie could use a rest.” Her bounce slows down. “Aw, I didn’t get to introduce her to our friends.” “Well…” She pauses. “I guess we can do that.” “Great! Let me go find them!” Pinkie says and leaves off in a pink blur. I sit on the floor. My shoulders slump, and my form deflates, a sudden tiredness weighing on me. It’s hard to keep up with the living. Dying is easy. Living, however, is much harder. Fluttershy places a wing over my wither. “Are you okay, Goldie? You look tired.” I groan. The words don’t bother coming out this time. “Well, we can go back home if you’re tired. But I’d like you to meet my friends first. Please?” My eyes meet hers, and I nod reluctantly, hoping that the rest of her friends weren’t like Pinkie. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up the living act much longer, but for Fluttershy’s sake, I’ll try. “Girls, I want you to meet Goldie,” Pinkie says, bringing with her a group of ponies. There’s three of them: a unicorn, an earth pony, and a pegasus. I want to say, “Hi,” but a guttural sound comes out instead. I think my greeting got stuck halfway up my throat, creating an unpleasant choking noise, like a hydra choking on a manticore bone. I try to hide my embarrassing mistake with a friendly wave, as if the whole thing never happened. My hoof only comes up for a second before it drops to the ground like a lead weight. The looks I get from them vary from one to another. The white one looks very unsettled, no doubt from my disturbing introduction. The orange one is trying to feign ignorance with a smile on her face, though she does a poor job at it. The blue one has an eyebrow quirked and is staring at me strangely. I expected these reactions from these mares, but the giggling from Pinkie Pie felt out of place. “Isn’t she great?” Pinkie asks. "Yeah... Great," the orange pony says. "Howdy, I'm Applejack." She holds out a hoof. I stare at it. I forgot what I was supposed to do in this situation. She's smiling, but even I can tell she's starting to feel uncomfortable waiting for me to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do. I wish I knew what to do. I hesitate holding out my hoof, mimicking Applejack. Her hoof immediately latches onto mine and gives the limp limb a hard shake. "Landsakes! You've gotta work on that grip o' yours," she says. She eyes the bandages that cover my body and the rest of me. "Anyways, what happened to you? You look like you just got hit by a runaway cart." I shrug. Though, it seems my response isn't the kind of answer Applejack is satisfied with. Before she can cut a word in, a blue blur rushes in front of me. "I'm Rainbow Dash, fastest flyer in all of Equestria,” the pegasus says, earning an eye roll from Applejack. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” I shrug again. I wouldn’t know for sure. “Sonic Rainboom? Rainbow Dash? Ring any bells?” I shrug. I feel most comfortable with this response. Her tail glows blue and is yanked down, earning a surprised yelp from her. “Honestly, Rainbow Dash. Not every pony in Equestria would know who you are,” the unicorn says. She smiles at me as if she’s putting on a show, the kind showing only the best side of her. "Hello, dear. My name is Rarity. My, you have a lovely mane! Perhaps it would look even better with a nice chapeau." I look up at my mane. If she says a hat will look good on me, then I'll be inclined to believe that. What do I know about good appearances? I just had my first bath in who knows how long just yesterday. Everything she does is precise and calculating from her manners to the way she speaks, giving her an air of elegance found only in Canterlot. And I wonder, have I been to Canterlot before? Or did I meet someone from there, whose impression has somehow stuck to me? Fluttershy glances behind the trio as if expecting someone else. "Where's Twilight?" Pinkie finishes off a cupcake that she had somehow procured during our talk. "Oh, she's just running late. She had to take care of something with Spike. She should be here any minute now." As if on cue, a pony walks through the door. A unicorn--no, not a unicorn. She has wings too. If what I was seeing was true, then she had to be an alicorn, a princess of some sort. I didn't know there was another princess, or maybe I did and I've just forgotten about her. But none of that matters to me at the moment. My eyes aren't on her. They're fixated on the little dragon clinging worriedly on top of her. Uh oh. She spots us and trots towards us, all the while talking to the dragon who seemed quite frantic about something. She glances back at him and says some things to him. The dragon nods sullenly and hops off, marching his way towards the table full of snacks. The pony comes up to us. "Hey, sorry I'm late," she says. Everyone returns the greeting, except me. She notices me. "Hi there. Who are you?" The question barely registers in my head as I'm too engrossed looking at her horn and wings. She follows my gaze, and her wings open up just a little. "Oh, so you noticed. You don't have to bow or call me 'Princess' or anything like that. Just call me, Twilight." I forcibly tear my eyes away from her wings to look at her face, full of curiosity. My tongue brushes against my lips. It feels heavy, like a dead piece of meat in mouth, which isn’t that far from the truth. Come on. Say something. At least, say your name, and for the love of Equestria, please, don’t mess this up. My lips part, and the careful manipulation of my tongue lets the syllables flow out my mouth. “Goldie.” She beams. “Nice to meet you, Goldie.” Fluttershy taps Twilight’s shoulder to get her attention. “Um, Twilight, what’s wrong with Spike?” she asks, glancing in the direction he went off to. “Yeah, the little fella looks like he got bucked in the chest and lost a rodeo,” Applejack says. Twilight purses her lips, unsure of what to say. “He’s just...been having a bad dream. He'll get over it soon." "Oh, poor Spike," Rarity says. "I wish there was something we can do to help the dear out." Twilight lets out a sigh. "It’s those comic books. He just needs time to realize that there's no such thing as zombies." "Zombies? That's what got him so scared?" Rainbow asks. "Pfft. What's so scary about a dead pony walking around?" Applejack gives her a deadpan look. "Maybe the fact that they're dead in the first place?" "Oh, I know! It's because they go around eating other ponies' brains!" Pinkie shouted, adding her two bits to the conversation. "So?” Rainbow retorts. “Haven't you seen the way they move? I'm pretty sure I can outfly them. And if not, what's stopping me from bucking their brains out?" By now, Rarity is looking a little green in the face as they continued to talk about their plans in an encounter with the undead. All this talk about zombies has left me silent and feeling quite unsettled to the point of unconsciously backing away from them. I want to hide in a hole. Noticing my discomfort, Fluttershy clears her throat. "Girls. Can we change the subject?" "Oh, sorry about that, Fluttershy. Didn't mean to scare ya or anythin'." They all apologize to her. Fluttershy puts a comforting wing on me. "Goldie is feeling a little tired, so I think I should take her back." I can't nod any faster. I seriously can't. My head moves with stiff, jerky motions. We all say our goodbyes. It was just in the nick of time, too. At that moment, the little dragon comes waddling towards the group of mares with a plate stacked high with sweets. Just as Fluttershy and I are about to leave the door, his eyes drift across the room before gravitating towards mine. I watch as recognition slowly creeps into his eyes, a look of horror taking over his face. The cupcake he had been holding in one of his claws drops to the floor. Hello again. I'm sorry we couldn't have met under better circumstances. I can hear his frantic cries as we leave. I want to hide again. It's hard being around ponies, to walk among the living as if I am no different from one of them. Fluttershy notices when I stop walking. "Goldie, is something wrong?" I try to hide myself, but the only hiding spot I can find is a knothole in an oak tree that reaches up to my neck. It hardly conceals my head, and I'm pretty sure the squirrel whose home I barged into is none too happy with my intrusion. "Don't mind what my friends said. They were just joking. I'm sure they didn't mean it," she said. I flick my tail. Whether they meant what they said it or not didn't matter. Being reminded of what I was has left me feeling both ashamed and indignant. Why should being undead be treated any different from being alive? My body no longer functions properly, but in essence, I am still very much a pony. But why would anyone care? I'm an unnatural oddity that came crawling out of the woods. The next thing I know, Fluttershy is next to me with her head near mine. "Come out. Please?" I sneak a glance at her. A look of worry adorns her face. I sigh and slide my head out of the hole, giving the angry squirrel an opening. It climbs my head and up the tree, making sure to scratch my face on the way up. Fluttershy holds my head and examines my face to see the extent of the damage. Her hooves press against my cheeks as gravity pulls my head down. She turns my head towards her face. "Goldie, look at me." I do. I can count every eyelash that hangs over her eyes like pairs of dark butterfly wings. "You're not a monster. Would a monster care about my animal friends? Or help a pegasus like me?" I think about it. She gives me a hard look, one that I didn't know she was capable of making. "You're as much a pony as me, with real feelings and everything. Just because you're not quite alive anymore doesn't mean you're not a pony." I find myself smiling once again. Her words resonate inside me and awakens a newfound desire to carve out the rot of my old self. It's not enough that I emulate the living. Wanting to change is only the first step. I need to find a purpose, a direction to my aimless wandering. My thoughts bring me to a question Fluttershy had asked me about what I was going to do. "Want to..." I say, trying to get out the words. "Yes, Goldie? What do you want?" she asks. My nose scrunches as I try to force the sentences, while Fluttershy watches patiently. "Want friends. Live again. Start over." I can't help but feel proud as the words leave my mouth. It's probably the most I've ever uttered at once. "That sounds nice. If that's what you want," she says. "But you're going to have to try if you want to make this work." “Try,” I say, nodding. “Try harder.” “That’s great, Goldie.” She smiles. I smile. We smile, as friends are often known to do, sometimes together. “I think you did well tonight,” Fluttershy says. “My friends seem to like you. They can be your friends, too, once you get to know them.” We make it back to the cottage. “It’s time to feed my nocturnal friends.” She pauses. “Would you like to help, too?” I nod. We stop by a large tree. Even though it’s dark, I can make out the small shadows hanging from the branches. She places bowls of chopped fruits beneath them. The shadows all swoop down and crowd around the food. As I watch, something lands on my head. Something small, furry, and with wings. A little head wiggles into my view and stares at me with its fox-like face. It’s a bat, and it’s a baby from the looks of it. I can feel its wings latched onto my head between my ears. “Aw, I think she likes you,” Fluttershy says. She picks up the little bat and cradles it. She grabs a chopped banana from a bowl and feeds it gently. More of the little bats come to rest on top of me as they wait their turn. Soon, I am nothing more than a pony-shaped tree for bats to hang on. Fluttershy giggles, while I attempt a grin. When we are done, we walk back inside. “What do you feel like eating for dinner, Goldie? I just bought groceries yesterday, so I have some hay, alfalfa, lettuce…” she lists on. I think back to the apple I had earlier and the poor impression it left on me. As much as I would love to try her cooking, I’m afraid I won't be able to fully enjoy it without working tastebuds. So I shrug. “That's okay, Goldie. I'll make us some nice pumpkin soup.” When she leaves for the kitchen, I make myself comfortable on a couch in the living room. I stare at the ceiling and think back to the party. The images from the party of unnerved ponies burn in my head. But most of all, the words of Fluttershy’s friends echo loudly—zombie, dead, brains. And that one final look of terror from the little dragon wraps up these depressing thoughts. I shake my head. No. Stop. Enough of that. Fluttershy wouldn't want to see you like this, all sad and depressed. I'm tired of being like this. At what point in my undead life did I become like this? That doesn't matter. Become someone who’s more happy and less depressed. Someone who is more confident in herself and better with other ponies. Be more like Fluttershy. I pause in my thoughts. But how do I do that? Being alone with my thoughts, I didn't realize there was someone else in the room, that person being a small, white rabbit who is slapping my face right now. My eyes drift towards him, earning a flinch from him. Yet, he didn't scurry or hide, as most animals do. He is very brave for a little critter. While I wonder what he wanted from me, he takes a hold of my mane and yanks it, pointing a paw towards the kitchen. I stare at him before getting up to go to the kitchen. Fluttershy is just finishing up with setting the table. “Oh, you're just in time, Goldie,” she says, setting down a bowl of piping hot soup. I glance at the rabbit, but he’s tapping his foot impatiently next to his food bowl. “I'll be right there, Angel,” she says to the rabbit. I take a seat at the table and look unsurely at the food in front of me. After Fluttershy takes care of Angel and seats herself, she notices the look on my face. “Oh, is something wrong? Is it the soup?” I shake my head and flash a small smile, taking the bowl in both my hooves and giving an exaggerated whiff of the stuff. A rather hammy moan leaves my mouth. “Mmmm.” She beams at this and digs into her own food with a spoon. With the sound of quiet slurping filling the room, I stare at my own soup, unsure. Fluttershy looks up from her meal, and again, I smile back, only this time I put the bowl to my lips and tilt it. “You might want to be careful with that, Goldie. It’s kind of…hot.” She watches with a surprised look as I down the steaming liquid without a pause. When I set the bowl down, it is entirely empty. About a quarter of the soup is on my face, but at least I managed to eat most of it, even though I can't taste a thing. “You’ve got something…” she begins to say, pointing at the left corner of her mouth. I wipe my mouth with a hoof, covering it with a generous helping of what was on my face, and look to her again. She frowns. “Not…quite. Here, let me help.” She reaches over with a napkin and begins wiping the soup off my face. I'm a little embarrassed for having her clean up after me like a foal. When her meal is finished, she takes my bowl and hers, washes them, and then leads me to the living room. She takes a look at a clock hanging on the wall, which shows that it was getting late. “Is it that time already? Goodness, time has passed.” She lets of a yawn before turning to me. “I only have one bed, but I don't mind if you…” My attention kind of stops after that. My legs give out under me and I fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes, lying on my side on the hard wooden floor. These limbs of mine just don’t cut it when it comes to keeping up with the living. Especially Pinkie. “Oh,” she says. She looks worryingly at me and then to the couch. “Wouldn't you rather sleep on something softer, like the couch? I don't even mind if you take my bed.” My eyes drift up to meet hers, and I let out a sigh. I've grown used to lying on the hard ground, but I'd rather not let her worry about me. Besides, there is no way I'm ever going to take her bed for everything she's done for me. I crawl onto the couch and curl up. Fluttershy leaves the room for a minute and comes back with a quilt with butterflies sewn onto it and a pillow. She slips the pillow underneath my head and wraps the quilt around me. As she is tucking me in, my eyes are drawn to hers. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles. “There. Comfortable?” she asks. I nod wordlessly. She begins up the stairs. “If you need me, I'll be right upstairs,” she says. “Goodnight, Goldie.” After she leaves, my voice slips out, albeit a little late. “Goodnight… Fluttershy.” It is quiet, but not entirely so. The crickets’ chirping in the night is the only sound I hear. I toss and turn a few times before finally settling for staring at the ceiling. I sigh. When was the last time I ever slept under a roof? Or sleep at all for that matter? Sleep has eluded me for quite some time. I kick off the quilt and get up. I abandon my “normal” walk and fall into my usual limping gait. I travel upstairs on creaky stairs, though it could also be my creaky joints. I head towards where Fluttershy’s room would be. When I reach her door, I hesitate for a moment before opening. Moonlight spills into the room and onto the sleeping mare in the bed. I trot closer to look. If she were to wake up and catch me staring, I would surely burn with embarrassment. She lies still on her bed, like a corpse under the pale moonlight. The steady rise and fall of her chest betrays that morbid analogy. But unlike a corpse, that which I am, she is beautiful. The way her body curves shows the contours of muscles under her skin, skin that is not at all grotesque or marred or rotting. My eyes travel up towards her bare chest, past her exposed neck, before stopping on her serene face, sleeping without a care in the world. Her mane spills out and frames her face like a portrait. Stray hairs fall across her features perfectly. This may seem like an obsession with the living, but when one has forgotten what it's like to be alive, it is only natural to be curious. I am an artist making note of every detail and committing it to memory, while Fluttershy has become the living subject in my otherwise dead career. It would be wrong of me to say I am not a little jealous. I place a hoof over my heart, perhaps fooling myself into thinking that I would feel something like a heartbeat. What greets me is silence and stillness. I freeze when Fluttershy mumbles something in her sleep. It is about time I leave her to her dreams. But before I do, I take the edge of the blanket in my teeth and pull it over her chest to cover her. When our faces are close, I can feel her breath on my nose. There is a tingling feeling on my nose that my mind barely registers. I exit the room, closing the door quietly behind me and trot downstairs towards the front door. Outside, the moon shines brightly and the stars glimmer, watching over the sleepy little town. I cross over the bridge that leads off of Fluttershy’s property. No longer do I wander aimlessly. My body moves with a purpose. In the night, I slip into the darkness of the Everfree Forest, unnoticed.