God, this all just seems so stupid. Thanks to my therapist, I have to keep a stupid journal and now here you and I are. Well since he thinks I hate my family so much, I might as well tell you about the one person in my family that I don’t particularly like. And just for your sake, I’m gonna make myself sound like an intelligent faggot like you. Stupid therapist.
Ahem ,I had never thought much of my grandfather. I had only seen him as an eccentric old man that only lived in his own little past. He still listened to dead genres of music such as techno and rock and roll. He just sat in his house, reading and reviewing old drafts of stories he had written throughout his life, most of them unfinished. I would always want to read them, to peer into his world, if only for a second, but he would always say, “When I finish it,” and send me on my way.
No matter what I did to try and view him as a normal old man, I couldn’t. He would babble on about friendship and every time he hurt himself or saw something incredible, he would say, “Oh my Celestia!” or something odd. People would stare at him, and I hated to be with him in public. But he would smile at the spectators and treat everyone like they have been friends for years. It was almost as if the scowling audience was a long lost friend. It made me sick to my stomach to watch him embarrass himself like that. It wasn’t right, it just wasn’t...normal. This is the main reason why his passing like the rest of the family didn’t as emotionally move me was.
The funeral was not much different than what you would expect. Depressed and crying families dressed in black, hanging their shady heads over the illuminating coffin. Flowers and pictures of my grandfather’s lively self were laid across the top in an incredible display. Roses, violets, daisies, varieties of bright flowers that seem to stand out amongst the grave scene looked almost out of place, but no one seemed to care. As my family and I walked up to see him, I glanced into a picture of him that showed him around the same age as me, smiling ear to ear. We had looked almost identical at that age, but we were a world away. If it wasn’t for the rustic layout of the torn and worn out photo, I would have sworn I was looking into a mirror, of a happier me.
As I gazed upon his aged photo, I turned my curious gaze elsewhere. I was not all too pleased that we appeared the same. In fact, I did not want anything to do with the old man. I just wished to get this funeral over with and I wanted to go home. Didn’t these people know I had more important things to do? And then, as if a shining light, something stood out to me. That cheerful smile on his face, it gave the impression of surrealness. His cheery expression looked too genuine, too real, and too… unnatural. What could have made this old and broken man so cheerful? What could have possibly made his life solitude and loneliness so enjoyable? “Why was it so sickening to see,” I wondered. My placid expression turned into one of complete distaste. I tried to distance myself from these thoughts, but they haunted me. Why?
Fucking Dammit! All I can think about is his stupid face and it’s always on my mind. Something like this shouldn’t bother me so much but there it is, trapped at the forefront of my mind. So much is going on, I can’t focus. It’s alright though. This is a time to be happy. I know it may seem shallow, but I’ve been waiting for my grandfather’s lawyer to contact us about his will. Even though I was not fond of him, he always referred to me as his favorite (and only) grandson. I just can’t wait until I see what he left me!
A FUCKING ROCK!? What the hell am I supposed to do with a rock? Oh no. But it’s not just any rock. He fucking named it Tom! Now I’m stuck with this creepy image of Grandpa in my head and a fucking rock. This is just great. What now oh Great and Powerful Therapist? You gonna tell me that this is a sign or are you gonna tell me I’m insane? Cuz that’s exactly how I feel!
And now, because of my little outburst, I am staying in my grandfather’s house because Mr. I’m-a-doctor-and-that’s-why-you-should-listen-to-me thinks it would be better for my health to recollect myself here. God I hate it here. It smells and gives me a creepy feeling. All throughout the house, you can hear creaks and squeaks from the floorboards and it always startles me. Imagine that, a teenager that is afraid of a fucking house. Trust me, I can’t believe it either. But to be honest, there seems to be this thought that always occurs. Everything here seems to remind me of him. It’s not the fact that it’s all his stuff. It’s more like I see him inside everything. I see him in the faces of clocks, in the posters in his room and the snow globes over his fireplace.
Well as long as I’m here, alone with my thoughts, I shall make the best of it. Not sure how that’s possible when it’s so damn boring here. Well, I’m off to bed and I’ll figure out what I’m gonna do tomorrow.
Day 8 (about 3 A.M.):
Okay, so it is seriously really creepy in my grandpa’s room. The tree outside casts shadows and they dance across the walls and cast giant figures across the bed. Reading creepypastas before going to bed was certainly not a good idea. And now I have really gone over the deep end. I just need to calm myself down and just shut my eyes. But now I think I’m really going insane. I could’ve sworn I heard my grandfather’s voice. He was singing a lullaby that I haven’t heard for years. It was almost a whisper. It said, ‘Hush now. Quiet now.” Oh dear God, I’m going insane. Why couldn’t you have just put me in a padded room for the rest of my life?
Just great! I broke the rock. I had no idea you could break rocks like this, but I’m kinda glad I did. I got scared at a figure I thought I saw, so I threw the rock at it. Little did I know that my time at the gym would pay off and it would break just by slamming against the wall. I guess I just don’t know my own strength.
Now things are starting to get weird. Turns out that the rock was fake. But inside there was something hidden. Amongst the broken pieces of rock, there lay a key. It had my grandfathers seal on it. Now I’m no expert but I think he meant for me to find this.
So inside the pile of rock debris, I found a little key with a small note attached to it. In tiny pencil scribble, it said one word, “attic”. No way was I going up there at this time, I decided to wait till the next morning before I would check it out.
Day 9 (about 10 A.M.):
I crept up the rickety stairs that led to the old wooden attic door. I didn’t bother checking to see if it was locked, I just jammed the rusty key into the keyhole and pushed open the door slowly.
Inside of the large dark room sat hundreds of boxes.The dim light coming from a window near the corner shone through the dust and cobwebs. I walked around, occasionally picking up a paper or two, here or there and glancing at it briefly.
Covers of old, worn, books, aged from their years of hibernation, showed pictures of smiling wide eyed horses, of all colors and sizes. Now I was really getting creeped out. A great number of boxes were labeled, “Unfinished Fan Fictions”. I poked around them, snooping through the boxes, looking at the unreasonable number of dirty papers.
Had these been the time consuming stories he had dedicated his life to? More importantly, why did he want me to see them? It was time to find out.
Day 9 (about 12 A.M.):
I sat there reading through the stories, most of them unfinished or crumpled. Even in his glory days he was pathetic.
Day 10 (about 2 P.M.):
Some of these stories were actually pretty heartfelt, I almost felt bad I didn’t know how they ended. Maybe I’d find an actual story up here, I guess I’d have to keep reading.
Day 13 (about 11 A.M.):
I had started to get a feel on the characters. Each one with their intricate personas and quirks. I still didn’t know why my grandpa had choose to write about them, probably losing his mind through old age. Well whoever these ponies were, they sure went on a variety of incredibly adventures, maybe I’ll look this up later. I needed to know what happens to them in the end.
Day 15 (about 7 P.M.):
I was trekking through the attic like usual, climbing amongst the boxes, looking for stories I haven't read yet when I saw it. I usually didn't stay up in here this far into the night, but now I felt a strong reassurance in this house. After the sun had fallen, I light a old candle on the wall to get some light, and beneath it, coming out from being showered in darkness a box laid casually. In large red letters on the front it read, “Finished Fan Fictions”.
I pulled the box out into the light, and observed the lid. It had a small padlock on it, holding the lid tightly to the rest of the box. I thought as to how to open it. The rock I had smashed weeks ago had only given me one key. I thought about it, the key I had gotten had only opened the attic how--... Wait.
I ran back into the bedroom and grab the small key from the drawer I had left it in. I hurried back into the attic and closed the door and locked it. I pressed the key into the keyhole and turned the knob, it just jingled lightly.
It was open the whole time... all those years I could have reading these amazing stories. I unlocked the attic door and ran to the “Finished Fan Fictions” box. I slowly pushed the key in the slot where it fit perfectly. Pulling off the lid I prepared myself to gaze upon a plethora of amazing stories.
It was almost empty. A few loose papers laid undisturbed from time at the bottom of the box. I picked up a white sheet of paper that laid on top of them, it was a note from my grandfather.
If you are reading this, then I have passed away. Among you sit my many
unfinished works. If you wish to read a finished tale, the story of my life and this attic will have to suffice for you. Long back when I was your age, I was intensely fascinated with a certain show. But it wasn’t the show that I came to love, is was the incredible happiness that it brought to me and my peers. But...as all good things do, it came to an end. And After that, my life had become a spiraling downward depression. It was only after you were born I realized that when one door closes, another one must open. I felt a deep urge to express my feelings towards the show, and my love for you. I needed to create a story to show you the greatness of what I learned in my lifetime. I needed to open a door for you, but I had to be sure you would choose to walk through it. So I dedicated a great sum of my life to writing these stories. As you may have noticed, I have finished none. How could I? An ending was the very thing I needed to escape. After I had grown old and witnessed the way you felt towards me I had a stunning epiphany. I was not supposed to evade this “ending”, I need to accept it. For your door to open, mine had to close. And so I leave to you this, the choice, the doorway. Remember in your journey through life, that it isn’t the destination we strive to reach, but what we accomplish in our voyage.”
I set the note aside and picked up the only other thing in the box. It was an ancient looking picture. My grandpa held me in his arms, I was just a small child. This old past form of me was grabbing at the pegasus on his shirt. Across the bottom of it, the letters shown brightly.
“I have left many beginnings and choices, but only you control your ending”
I cried as I set the picture aside. Staring at the dusty boxes around me, I cried for what seemed like hours. I grabbed a nearby story and an old pencil on the ground. My tears landing on the paper, washing away the old gray marks.
I sat up there for a long time. The picture almost seemed familiar. It was like I could recall reaching for Rainbow Dash as my grandfather held me in his arms. As I touched the picture, I reflected back on how I misjudged him. I just wanted to reach out to him and apologize. But then I thought about it. I can apologize. He is the one who opened the door for me and I still need to walk through. I will be the person to finish these stories. I will be the one to continue his legacy.
As Todd wrote in the attic, words seemed to flow out of his pencil with such fluidity that it seemed natural and comforting. But nothing could have prepared him for what had happened after he found the box.
After reading the note and picture that his grandfather had left him, he quickly got to work on completing his grandfather's work as well as thinking of stories he could write himself. As he began, a small sound caught his attention and he looked away from his work to investigate. The sight that caught his eye almost made him scream from fright, but it also filled him with happiness.
There was his grandfather amongst six vividly colored ponies. Some had horns, some had wings and the rest were just like ponies in the real world. His grandfather smiled at him and came towards Todd as he hovered over the floor. The ponies all fallowed behind him.
Todd was not frightened by there ghostly appearance and welcomed them to circle around him. Royce, his grandfather, decided to speak first.
"I knew you would be up to the challenge," he said, beaming from ear to ear.
"I'm so sorry Papa. I shouldn't have doubted you."
"It's okay Todd. I am not mad at you and I do believe now is not the time to dwell on the past. Instead, I have some friends of mine that I want you to meet. You may already know them," he said, winking. "This is Applejack. The most hardworking, honest pony you and I will ever know.
The orange earth pony stepped forward. "It sure is great finally gettin' ta meet ya!" she said, tipping her hat in Todd's direction. Todd gave a wave hello and stared with wide eyes at the mare. Now he knew why Royce favored her the most.
"I'm sure you already know her but I'll introduce her anyway. This is Rainbow Dash and she is one of the fastest fliers in Equestria!"
"Ahem! I am the fastest flier in all of Equestria." said the sky blue pegasus.
"You sure are!" said Todd, acting flattered to be in her presence.
Todd looked back at his grandfather for another introduction, but he was too busy looking behind him.
"It's okay Fluttershy. There is nothing to be afraid of." he spoke in soft, hushed tones. All that was heard in response was a soft squeek.
Todd spoke up. "Hello Fluttershy. I've read a lot about you." he spoke in the same comforting voice his grandfather used.
Fluttershy poked her head out from around Royce's leg. "Re-really?" she asked in a somewhat more confident tone.
"I sure have. And I am honored that I finally get to meet you!" Todd had a wide grin on his face.
"I'm--I'm glad to meet you too. I have heard a lot about you and I should be the honored one." said Fluttershy, returning with a smile.
"And this is-"
"Hi I'm Pinkie Pie! But all of my friends call me Pinkie. Do you have a pet? I have a pet. His name is Gummy and he is an alligator. Do you have a pet alligator? Or do you like cupcakes? I like cupcakes! It's my favorite food group. Except for dessert. You never want to have cupcakes for dessert. They told me it was bad for you for breakfast. They tried to make me eat oatmeal! can you believe it? Oatmeal? So I said 'Oatmeal? Are you crazy?' and then I was like-"
"PINKIE!" they all yelled in unison. Pinkie stopped and looked around.
"Oops. I mean nice to meet you!"
Todd chuckled. "The pleasure is all mine."
"Next is my editor-in-cheif, Twilight Sparkle."
"Pleasure to meet you. I have heard much about you and I am very confident that you will do great to pass on our images and make them great."
"I hope to do my best." said Todd, blushing.
" And now, last but not least, Rarity, the most elegant of all in Equestria."
"Now Darling, there is no need for such formalities. You may call me Rarity or whatever you like. It seems you have taken his looks and have become a handsome young man. I believe you will do great things!"
"I'm flattered that you all think I will do great."
"We don't just think Darling! We know."
Todd blushed and looked down, smiling at the paper in his hands.
"Thank you Papa. I hope to do you proud. I hope to do all of you proud."
The group said nothing but one-by-one, they evaporated until only his grandfather left, smiles on their faces.
"I am sure you will do great things. But don't do it for me. Do it for them. They are what kept me happy until you came along. You were my life. So please return the favor to them by finishing these stories for me. They were all pretty upset when I couldn't finish any of them."
All Todd did was smile and nod. With that, Royce also smiled and evaporated like the rest. As Todd sat. Alone once again to his thoughts, he knew that he would not let them down. And with that, he returned to writing, hoping that he will see them again.