As My World Burns

by StapleCactus

Ashes to Dust

Oh.

It’s you.

Go away.

Ugh, fine. Let me see, where was I? Oh, right, going insane.

Okay, so I may be exaggerating, but looking back, it seems like it. Who laughs out of nowhere like that? And who acts like doors are sentient beings to thank for opening themselves? For all intents and pur—

“Mr. Davenport?”

Oh, hold on. I need to take this.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling today?”

“There’s a slight throb still, but I’m feeling much better.”

“Wonderful. You know, we were worried there’d be more permanent damage after that log ran you over.”

“I must have been relaxed.”

“Yes... relaxed muscles....”

“Was there something else, nurse?”

“Oh! Yes, I brought your breakfast, and there’s a letter for you.”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ll just... sit everything here, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.... Feel better, Mr. Davenport.”

“Hm.”

There. Now, I was talking about going insane, yes? Well, since I’m sure you overheard that conversation, you’ll notice I wasn’t. It was a concussion, or so the doctors believe. I think otherwise, because I wouldn’t normally conduct myself as I did at that restaurant. Really, laughing about that sort of thing.

As you have probably gleaned, I am back in the hospital again. Trust me, it’s just as boring as it was last time. I’m only talking to you because of how bored I am. Then again, you don’t speak, so I can’t see this being riveting either. How about I regale you of what happened? Mind you, this is all from other ponies points of view, but I can assure you it’s the truth.

So after leaving my meal behind and causing a scene, I began to walk down the street. If you recall, I said I tripped over a piece of construction material, when the truth was a bit different. A log the construction workers hadn’t had the chance to cut into lumber had freed itself from its oppressive rulers and decided that particular moment was a good time to come careening down a perpendicular street from the one on which I was walking.

As I was still in my fit of insanity, I didn’t hear the forepony’s yell and walked right into the log’s path. There, it hit a cobblestone that hadn’t been tamped down completely and spun, letting its momentum slam into my front legs. My head’s plan had been to meet the dirt, but instead found itself planted on top of the moving log, which pulled the rest of my body along for the ride.

Another rough spot in the road was large enough to halt the trunk’s movement, but the speed it was going allowed it to tilt, making my body fall to the side and letting my head sit squarely in the way of the falling log. Luckily, physics were on my side, and the curved stone gave it just enough of a spin to avoid hitting me again.

You already know about me getting up and such, but the conversation with the forepony was a little different at the end. While I thought he had asked me to come look at the progress they had made, he actually asked for me to come with him to the hospital. How I confused the two, I’m not entirely sure.

Needless to say, he ran to get some help as soon as he heard my response and I walked away. A few ponies followed me to make sure I was okay and led the paramedics to my room. Upon finding me unconscious, they rushed me here.

That didn’t take nearly as much time as I had hoped. Hmm... want to play tic-tac-toe? Don’t say anything if you want to be ‘O’.

…

I win. Granted, you played a few questionable moves, but I’ll take my win.

“Mr. Davenport?”

Maybe I should start narrating again so you know what’s going on. Eh, it’s just the nurse. I’ll talk to you later.

---

Okay, so you know how I said I’d talk to you later? Is a week too long? Is there some faux pas I have committed by not talking to you? And I know I asked this earlier, but who is ‘you’ specifically? Am I talking to myself, or maybe some spirit following me around? Are my thoughts transcending this plane of existence to entertain you? Is that it? Who are you?!

Then again, I guess it doesn’t really matter. If I’m crazy, at least I’m just narrating my life instead of baking ponies or anything. Besides, isn’t everypony just a bit insane anyway? Who thought it was a good idea to dress up in outfits to appease some made up demi-goddess named Nightmare Moon? Still, kids need something to occupy them, so I’ll let it slide.

So, I decided I’d start narrating my life again. To you. I mean, of course it’s to you. Who else would there be? No, I’m not cheating on you with some other fictitious creature. Yes, I promise. Calm down, there’s no need for that. Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll start off with the beginning of the day.

I woke up in my hotel room with— What? “What happened with the hospital,” you say? That’s not important. What? No, I’m not skimming over things; it really isn’t important. Fine, fine, I’ll summarize:

Upon checking me over after my wounds healed, the doctor released me.

Happy now? Like I said, nothing important. They didn’t do a psych reading on me, because I didn’t tell them I’m talking to you in my head. The concussion I received was deemed safe enough for me to deal with the remaining effects at home, not that I have a home to return to. They also gave me some mild painkillers in case I still needed them. Can I get back to what I was saying now? Good.

Ahem…

…

Ah, right, so I woke up in my hotel room. There was a pounding upon my forehead door. No, wait... My head was pounding. It was the door I heard a rapping. Beyond that door lay madness, and I was completely justified in thinking that when it opened on its own and a pink pony was standing in the entryway.

Pinkie Pie strolled into my chambers like she owned them, which she likely did with how many favors everypony owed her by now. Being the only premiere party pony in town, as well as the only feelgood therapist, tended to do that. But it wasn’t her professions I was concerned about. I was worried about why she even bothered with visiting via breaking and entering.

And then she promptly left, leaving an envelope to flutter to the floor where she turned. I stared at that unassuming piece of paper in confusion. Pinkie’s antics were something I long decided to ignore, you see. But, I wouldn’t get answers from an inanimate object by asking, so I flopped off my bed and held a hoof to my head as I carried myself over to it. Upon opening it, I found a letter which read:

Dear Mr. Davenport,

I’m super sorry about what happened to you. BUT! The CMC are trying everything they can to make it up to you! In fact, they even started helping rebuild your store, and Apple Bloom is doing her best to make furniture to restock what you lost. Isn’t that great?!

Anyway, I came to wish you good luck on getting better. Since you’re reading this, that means I most likely stopped by and then left without a word. I know how much my voice grates on your ears, and your headache really doesn’t need me to make it worse. I have a proposition for you, however.

I was planning a surprise party for you to help cheer you up! This one is on the house, of course. But then you got hurt even worser and I don’t want you to feel obligated to come to your own party. I mean, if you don’t show up, we won’t have the guest of honor, but I’m sure I can wing it. Anyway, the proposal.

Pack up and leave Ponyville. Start up your business somewhere else and leave us be. I’ll even pay for the trip. Or you can stick around and keep bringing the rest of us down with you.

I’ll be waiting at the party.

With Love,

Pinkamena Diane Pie

I stumbled back to my bed and collapsed on it, and that is where I am now as I talk to you. I need to make a decision.

Author's Note:

Blah blah blah, sorry for the wait, blah blah. I've written it three times now and I don't want to do it again. Check the other stories or my blog if you want the details.

Also, I STILL have no idea what I'm doing with this story.

Comments

[Garbo]

Although my characterization of Davenport is a comic one, I loved this story. I love anything with Davenport in it. He's literally my favorite pony. And this is one of the better Davey stories I've seen. Congrats, bro.

[Seether00]

You can't make Davenport leave, Pinkie! He will bring all you bastards down with him!

Is it just me or was that letter from Pinkie really condescending?

[StapleCactus]

3441268

It was. I had this thought in my head like Pinkie was trying to cheer him up, but then Pinkamena voiced her thoughts on the situation. So, the whole letter turned into a mess of cheer and condescension. Then again, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do about that, so don't hope for some well-thought out plan to deal with it later.

[Pyro The Reader]

Woah, Pinkamena, harsh gurl.