> L'appel Du Vide > by sweeT2010Tooth > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Call > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It began when I was very young – this dream of a steep cliff atop a peak most high with a glimmering, comforting, and shining sun hanging effortlessly above. It started out simple enough with me standing on the edge of that cliff looking out to that beautiful sun. I would stay there for the longest time, breathe in the atmosphere, and imagine a better life awaiting my return to the waking world. Believe me when I say that the sun seemed to offer every ounce of warmth and comfort I could ever need. Inevitably, I would decide to look down the cliff's steep edge. Why? Because I wanted the waters below to carry me away from a life filled with regret, despair, and wanton of love. When I did look down, I would get the urge to jump. It was subtle at first but grew as my desire for happiness was not provided in the waking world. This desire to jump wasn’t made out of sadness, anger, or regret. It was an idealist pursuit of happiness. I had ideas of ‘what if.’ What if I did it? What if I ended this? What would it be like? Would it hurt? Would I be missed? Nobody knew me anyways and nobody cared. So, why not? These thoughts consumed me for what seemed many slumberous hours. Then I would wake up to reality…my reality. My life is nothing special. In fact, I’m nothing special. I never got a cutie mark. I just never had that special 'something' that every other pony had. Just too average I guess. It is like paying for failure even when one never actually failed at something. A simple case of the 'haves' and the 'have-nots.' Everything about me is ordinary and plain. The colors of my coat, mane, and eyes all match. What color was it? Does it matter? I don’t think it does. It doesn’t even matter if you knew what my gender is. By the time you’re done reading this, it won’t matter. You’ll forget all about me in due time and, the less you know, the better. For the more you know about me, the attachment will continue to keep me tied to the waking world. I never knew my parents. They might have died or left me when I was young. I'll never know though. As time goes on, my mind refuses to remember whether or not I had parents. If I were see them now, would it be worth it? A simple apology wouldn't correct that pain nor would make anything better. The best course of action - as with most other events in my life - are best forgotten. Well, without parents, I was raised in an orphanage. Being raised in an orphanage, I got as much love as a thirsty fox gets from a cactus. Sure, I had friends there but it came and went as time passed on in its unending march. Even when I had friendship, it was with those only willing to take what they can from others in order to justify their loneliness and solitude in a life most unforgiving. Nothing but painful upbringing could be had from that establishment. The only glimmer of hope is adulthood and escape. But is it worth it? Do things get easier as one gets older? The more things change, the more they stay the same. Yet, things only seem to worsen as time marches on. That was my young life. Could have been worse but not too great. When I got older, I ventured out into the world with a new found freedom. It was this freedom where I could do what I always wanted...to a financial limit. But did I really have something I wanted to do? I couldn’t do anything special even if given the chance. So, does this freedom really matter to an average pony like me? It doesn’t. I made the most of it in working what jobs I could find. The jobs were nothing spectacular but they got me by. As soon as I got the chance with what little money I had, I decided to travel the world to see what the rest of Equestria was like but, when the inevitable seclusion happened, I simply moved to a new location hoping for something different. Let me clear something up. I'm not only the most average pony one would ever meet...I am also the most invisible. Nopony ever tried to know me, get close, or even go beyond a simple greeting. The strangest part is that nopony ever asked my name. I simply became an overly average pony nameless in the world's population. The best experience I had in my travels around the world is when I visited Canterlot. Not because I met any ponies I could call a friend, but because I attended the Summer Sun Celebration. Queen Celestia has a knack for showing such amazing graceful flair that one could only open their mouths in awe. In raising the sun, she synchronously raised both wings and floated a few inches from the ground. This simple act showcased so much power and command of a celestial body, I simply watched and took in every detail of the splendid event. There came a moment when the sun was directly behind her that her mane had shone so brilliantly yellow as if she had momentarily changed hair color. Of course, I could only see her outline at this point, but the angelic and warm feel of this sight made the vivid imagery of my dreams more realized than ever before. It was so comforting! It is the happiest (well first of two) moments of my life. You know how you come back from a long vacation with a sudden dread of an everyday routine? That is exactly how it felt as soon as I left Canterlot. The realization of my life came into full view at that very moment. Why am I alive? What was the point in me ever being born? I never accomplished much and had little use in improving this world. In fact, I never had friends that stuck with me longer than half a year. I could continue to travel but why? Why search for something never found when I had happiness in a single recurring dream? It came to the point where I would talk to myself. It was the only pony that would listen anyways. But how can one have great and meaningful discussions with another who only knew and understood the same ideas? There's no growth in that. I continued to travel this way from place to place looking for something. What was I looking for? Was it another pony to talk to? I’ve met plenty of ponies so that was not a problem. I just felt like emptiness was calling me. Like the emptiness was a destination without a finish line. Any time I was alone, the emptiness of solitude would be my only friend. It is a friendship of nothing with nothing in everlasting nothing. I liked my dreams better than my waking reality. The majestic view from on top that cliff was breathtaking and liberating. It felt like this is where I belonged. I could see our princess's outline in the shine of the sun with much comfort and warmth in her grace. It is like this was where I could find what I was seeking - happiness in liberation of waking reality's servitude. All I needed to do was take one or two steps forward and then…I would still wake up. Travelling became less appealing to me after a while doing it. New 'sights' became common to a point where intrigue desires settlement instead of a roaming attitude. I found a nice calm village to stay for the time being. Of course, the feeling of seclusion came like times before but that was to be expected. Again, nopony took interest in me. None learned my name. None cared to share their secluded lives with mine. When it felt bad enough, I would venture outside the village to the edge of a nearby forest to my special tree. There wasn't really anything special about the tree in particular. But that characteristic of ordinary I suppose is what made it special to me. Besides, when I talked, it would listen. Maybe that is all I needed. More and more I sat next to it and wasted the days away. Sometimes, I would talk to myself to strike up a conversation with the only pony I knew would listen. Sometimes, I decided to talk a few times to the tree to have a laugh at myself in hoping for a fruitful conversation. Then, one day, it spoke back. > The Answer > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The tree didn't say much at first. Most of it was about how my day went and how it, itself, was feeling. I would have questioned this scenario but, then again, less of life’s happenings these days seemed to matter to me. Whether or not I was going crazy was out of the question. The only thing that mattered was that someon..thing wanted to talk with me. I actually enjoyed our conversations as they grew. It was the greatest feeling in the world. The conversations were something I looked forward to every time I visited the tree. Apparently, it looked forward to the same thing. Maybe the other trees were not good listeners much like the ponies in the village. Sometimes I would not get an answer at all, but that was to be expected as it was an inanimate object. I couldn't expect it to lend an ear every time (if it had an ear). Many days, weeks, and months were spent in this manner – just me talking to this tree. Then, one day I realized how dumb it was and started to question what I was doing. Am I really this crazy that talking to a tree is my main means of escaping the waking reality? No, this whole thing that I'm doing is just plain stupid. Talking to inanimate objects is not something one should do to sort out social issues. So, I stopped talking to the tree over time even when it kept asking me what was the matter. I even started visiting the tree less and less. It was better to distance myself from that temptation. The dream I had of the cliff seemed more real than this. That dream could provide the happiness I so desired. I have to say that my dream was much more inviting than this insanity of talking with a tree on the edge of a forest. Closing my eyes - even when not dreaming - I could clearly see my sleep's proposition. There was the beautiful sky with its sun (that seemed to be setting as time went on), the most liberating view of a sky one could ever see, the invitation, comfort, and warmth of our princess's outline in the shining sun, and the urge to take the dive letting the open waters below carry me away...far away. One day, while browsing a local shop selling cutlery, I got the strongest urge. It was undeniable at this point having seen most of what this life could have ever offered me. That day I decided to visit the tree for one last attendance. Give it what it wants and then get I want. I talked to it for a while...a long time to be precise about normal happenings between our lives. When the time felt right, I took out the knife I had bought. I looked at it for a only a few moments as I didn't want to lose the drive to do what needed to be done. I put it to my throat, took a few deep breaths, and counted to three. In those three seconds, I imagined every little detail of my dream as inviting now as it could ever be. So inviting, in fact, I felt myself smiling with the first bit of happiness I could ever feel from the unforgiving, cold, and cruel world. A single tear produced itself from my left eye. I don't why. I certainly didn't feel sad as this was the moment I had waited for since my 'humble' beginnings. Before I could do anything, I found myself on the ground with the knife at my side after being tackled by this Pegasus with a white coat. Her face was wracked with so much confusion and grief that I was, myself, confused as to her portrayed appearance. “What are doing?” she said to me. “Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!” “Who are you?” I replied. “Who am I!? Are you okay in the head? I’m the one who was just talking to you a minute ago!” “You? I was talking to the tree…” “Tree?” She looked behind her at the tree and back at me. “That thing? No. I was sitting up in my cloud like I always do waiting to talk to my friend.” Friend? I thought. What friend? There's no one else out here but me...Is it me she's talking about? In fact, her voice is the same as the tree's. Realization slapped me in the face harder than a forty lb. trash bag half-filled with bricks. Surprised I said, “So I was talking to you the whole time these past months?” I felt sudden embarrassment and confusion for not realizing this sooner. “Yes! I’ve been on my cloud every time you came by. You were always looking down which is why you probably never saw me. You need to look up more!” I apologized repeatedly for what she had almost witnessed. I came out to this place of privacy doing what needed to be done with a means of not causing grief to those around me. The shame of the situation was overbearing. I couldn’t bring myself to touch the knife again. It was the first time in my life I felt filth clinging to my body that couldn't be washed away for days. We hung out a lot from that day on but we never went back to the tree. It was great to finally have a friend again. I now had somepony to talk to when times were good and when times were bad. In fact, this was the second happiest thing that happened to me in my waking reality. She was so beautiful with her white coat, blonde mane, and green eyes. She was similar in all respects to our princess Celestia. No amount of sadness kept me down when she was near. Sometimes, when I said goodbye just after parting ways for a single day, I would watch her go in the direction of the sun until her outline had shone brilliantly in its rays and casted a much familiar warmth. I could say that this is the end of the story but we all know how time changes all things. I wish I could say ‘The End’ and only good things happened from then on. However, I still had the dreams and every time they came, it was more inviting. Keep in mind, friendships never last for me so eventually she left for her own Flight Academy endeavors. Like I said, friendships don't last more than a year for me. I was all alone again with only my dreams as company. I only had two moments in my life worth true happiness. Was it worth it to wait around for the third? I doubted she would come back though she said she would. There are some things I'm willing to chance but inevitably of a failed long-distance friendship is not one. I left a note just in case she does come back. If you see her, tell her I’m sorry. She and our princess Celestia are the only true memories of happiness obtained in a miserable waking reality. ***** The body of a pony was found one early morning in their own house. It was found only because of the stench of weekly decomposition. If not for the odd smell emitting the establishment, nopony would had taken notice. There was no name on the pony or in its possession. None of the neighbors knew the pony’s name either. In fact, very little was known about this pony even with those who were talked to by this pony on a daily basis. There were no pictures either be it family, close ones, or friends. The only thing found was a note left behind for ‘The white-coated Pegasus.’ When the Pegasus found out from overhearing the local news, she immediately rushed back to the village. She could not fathom that her friend would be so foolish as to commit the said act of suicide told by news reporters. She was given a single note with one simple distinguished sentence to which she immediately was set to tears. Those who had read the note didn’t understand as the note seemed like gibberish to them. Nonetheless, they could feel something terrible had occurred that only this white-coated pegasus could understand. ***** A lonely ordinary tree was standing where it had always stood on the edge of its neighboring forest. It wasn't expecting a visitor this day but received one anyways when a white-coated Pegasus walked up to and sat next to it. She looked out to her surroundings wishing for a time spent to come back. Looking around with feverish hope, she was hoping to catch a glimpse or hear that familiar voice. It never came. Nothing but silence echoed through the empty surroundings. At one moment, the silhouette of a fellow pegasus appeared upon the grass. Looking up, she saw princess Celestia for a fleeting moment. That is until the princess flew over her head. For at that moment, when the princess was directly above her, she felt something hit her cheek somewhat moist. The surrealistic atmosphere was a lot to take in so she continued to monitor her empty environment. She kept thinking to herself, All I want to do is see my friend once more. I never got to say goodbye. After a long while, she let out a deep sigh and, with tears in her eyes, looked once more at the note in her hoof that read: “Thank you for being my special ‘tree’ and 'shining' happiness and warmth my way.”