Just One Late Night
Twist sat on her bed, watching the dead of night slip away through her tiny bedroom window. She often did stay up at night anyways, letting the jar of fireflies buzz softly through the jar she kept. Probably longer than she should, for a school filly. But she did have a lot to think about. She closed her eyes…
Twist woke up as she usually did, mind already springing into action. She had a set routine that she had to follow, and one she did, with minor variations. Just like always, she woke up on the right side of the bed (the left meant the day would go poorly). Just like a, she'd spend at least three minutes brushing her teeth, and double time for her thick curly mane (soft strokes, so as not to snag the brush. Back and forth, back and forth...). Then a shower, then breakfast. Usually a slice of apple, or a really nice glass of orange juice. And always a stick of white peppermint, so she could keep herself attentive through the day. Before the hour was up, she was trotting through the streets of Ponyville, taking a path that seemed to wind through every nook and cranny there was. But at least she could find herself enjoying the walk.
It had just occurred to her that today was a special day when she was nearly knocked over by a duo of fillies. A twin trail of blazing pink and silver blurs both blew by her with incredible velocity, long gone before she could even stand up to wipe the dust off her glasses. But she had hardly needed to see them at all to tell who they were, and she knew that she'd see them again. They were headed to the same place, after all. The Ponyville Schoolhouse.
Even though she was coming to school on a weekend, it almost slipped her mind that it had been election day, until she actually showed up. Entirely optional, considering it was an off day, but she'd thought she'd do her best to try to show up for school spirit. She placed herself on the sidelines of the field, and could tell that the place was already abuzz with chatter. Two very different factions building up again, though she knew them well enough she wasn't exactly surprised.
On one hoof, “their” side. A grouping of fillies and colts trailed after them, “inspired” by fear and coercion. Or outright bribery. Twist often wondered if they could ever see through those smiles. There was so much nervousness, and a sense of uncomfortability. Signs she’d learn to pick up from a mile away, And definitely wouldn't want in any friend she had. Then again, she didn't have any, and she distantly wondered if they cared. She bit her tongue; she knew It was mean, but it wasn’t out of the possibility. And on the other side…
The CMC; a rag-tag group of ponies, united to a common cause under duress. Trumped her and her squad again and again, with nothing but hard work and authenticity. They had often messed up, or even failed, but when they did, they came back with unerring perserverance. And Twist admired them, along with most of the other ponies in class.
She was surprised “they” couldn’t see it; the silent undertow building underneath them. The whole dynamic of the class had changed, and even those who had once been on their side had shifted positions. A slow and gentle takeover of the worst kind. And Twist knew that if they ran, she would lose eventually. She’d be taken down a peg, maybe further. And at that, Twist stopped; she wasn’t sure how she’d feel.
The results of the election shocked her, to say the least. For starters, she had expected one of them to run for President. Instead, they chose Pip-Pipsqueak, who was nice, but she’d never personally saw coming.
She had expected the battle to end all battles. With the tension, she was expecting there to be tons of arguments, maybe debates. All of the political things that went into this. But she hadn’t expected it to end in a landslide, with her receiving exactly one vote.
"She" had insulted her to her face over the course of it. To her credit, she had expected that. But she definitely didn’t expect her closest friend to turn so suddenly. Nor did she expect her to run away screaming. It was confusing, to say the least.
And as hard as Twist tried to coax some satisfaction from the situation, she only found herself coming up empty. Given how she was, she was ashamed to admit that she’d had this exact type of dream before all of this. In darker, far bitter nights. She’d dreamed of a world where “she’d” be powerless. Where money and status were just hollow appeals. Where ponies didn’t stop to bat a single eye at her whenever they walked down the street.
She knew it wouldn’t help her in the slightest. Twist would continue to feel like she’d always been; a ghost simply floating through town. She’d fade in and out occasionally, only appearing for brief moments in the world before disappearing once again. But she’d thought if she could share her perspective, maybe she could get her to see things the way she’d seen them. Maybe she just needed to be truly lonely, so she could understand what it was like.
As she dashed away from the schoolyard, Twist tried to bring it all screaming back. All the rage, every ounce of irritation. Years of being rejected and kicked on, knocked down, and pushed aside. Then the remainder of being completely ignored. For Twist, far worse than being hated. She ripped it up, tried to force out some emotion. But all she got was a flat, hollow feeling. Hatred didn’t feel right to her.
She definitely felt something. They sure as a filly’s knees weren’t anything close to friends, as her meemaw would say. But the more she tried to bring up those bitter feelings, the more she realized that she was like cough drops or doctor’s visits; unpleasant, but she couldn’t say she hated them. Even though she imagined that she would have the right to. This had been coming for a long time, and not a single pony had been hurt in the process.
Except “her.” And Twist now found herself actually wanting to reach out and give her some comfort. Though the thought made her slightly nauseous. Given all she’d done, she wasn’t that cordial.
Just for a second, she thought of going after her. But instead, her steps took her away from the school. They lead her through the center of town, where she usually spent her days.
She wander around aimlessly, wondering distantly where “she’d” been going. But Twist also wondered where she was going. Normally, this would be the day where she visited Sugar Cube Corner. Pinkie Pie always managed to make her day a shade brighter. She would enter in a negative mood, but before long, she would be laughing away, giggling to herself like a schoolfoal.
But it was Sunday, so she couldn’t buy anything. She knew Pinkie Pie would let her stay anyway, but it would feel like she was pulling attention away from the customers. The thing she liked least was being a bother. So she continued onward, rounding the buildings at the west end of town, carrying her back towards the same place she’d been heading.
It was at this point that Twist had come to recognize how much she’d been clouded. This wasn’t exactly natural to her; sure, being insulted had stung, and the day to day process of being ignored wasn’t pleasant. But she had always learned to look on the bright side. Stop and smell the flowers, which she did. The Liliacs in front of her were fresh like a summer breeze. She had no idea what it meant, and it sounded ridiculous. But she liked a bit of ridiculousness. A bit of warmth came back to her.
She tried to reason things out. At least the window was getting fixed, whether it was her idea or not. Pip might actually turn out to be a good President, and do some honest good for the Ponyville Schoolhouse. And the fillies and colts under her hoof would find themselves to be a lot happier. There’d be peace at school, and it was hard to argue with that.
Still, the mixed feeling of wanting to hug her, but also wanting to push her over still caught at her. Enough that by the time she looked up, it had been a few hours. She was just contemplating going home, when a pink blur whizzed by her. Followed by three more familiar shapes running after her.
Twist knew very well she shouldn’t let curiosity guide her. Every instinct told her she shouldn’t let curiosity guide her. Her own parents had said don’t let it guide her. But she was following them anyway.
Once she knew where they were going, it was easier to trail them. They were headed for the Ponyville Schoolhouse. She wondered why, and threw away her first inclination; it was unlikely they were going to fight. Still, it had to be something serious, and Twist was still driven by that urge’s second half. She headed down the road after them.
The small crowd that was there when she showed up told her there was definitely something going on. On one side of it, Miss Cheerilee, and a group of nervous fillies and colts. And on the other side, her, and her…
Twist took one look at “her” Mom, and immediately slunk out of sight. It was rude, but she didn’t like that mare one bit, and she knew that she didn’t like her. For what, she didn’t quite understand, but the looks she’d been given spoke clearly enough. They were cold, sub-pony in content, and they made her dirty and small. She had learned to give her a wide berth by association, just like she did the whole family. She hung back.
Behind a tree, she watched anxiously. And it didn’t take her too long to put the pieces together. Spoiled Rich wanted to deny the school proper funding. She had shown up to try and get her to change her mind. After a bit of tense arguing between the two, her mother up and left, leaving her with money. And everybody cheered as she watched them. They crowded around her, carrying genuine smiles…
It was only then that Twist stepped out of her thoughts. She still looked down at her own bed silently. The fireflies had nearly all gone to sleep, but she was still more than wide awake, thinking it over. ”The pony she wanted to be…”
Twist stared down at the covers wordlessly, the very idea bugging her. It wasn’t that she was angry, or sad; the ponies at the school had the right to forgive her. If they wanted to, they could do it. They had the right to, right?
Right?
But it wasn’t that. She’d grown immune to "her" antics a long time ago, as far back as her getting her cutie mark. Partially because she was a natural optimist, partially because like her mother had told her, words were really only ever flank deep. It couldn’t be
“her”.
But she had watched her former friends all surround her, without a moment’s hesitation. And it nipped at her, like the jaws of a timberwolf. She had been through it all. All the call-outs, the put-downs, the days when it hurt too much. And she knew what they were, and what she did to them. But they had forgiven her. The smiles she saw had been genuine. They were ready to welcome her into their ranks.
So what happened so wrong with her?
They’d never once tried to re-connect. Never sent a letter. Never visited. And at the root of it all, it wasn’t something that she had done, and that was what upset her. It wasn’t that she was a bad pony, or unpleasant, or difficult to deal with. It was just that she’d been overlooked, like a tumbleweed rolling through an empty town. All the things she did, all the things she said. Every apple she brought to Miss Cheerille on Monday. Selling confections at the Ponyville markets on Tuesday. Sitting back and watching the ponies walk by, one eye peering through a Strawberry Sundae. And countless other things, but she’d just been left out of the spotlight. She wasn’t an uninteresting pony; she’d just been completely forgotten. And Twist didn’t know which stung worse.
She wished happy for her- for Diamond Tiara. If she wanted to make up, she’d wish her well. As she took another sprig of peppermint, her eyes began closing, her concentration fading despite herself. And as she slept, she didn’t know if things would ever quite be resolved.
But she would have a really shiny apple for Miss Cheerilee tomorrow.