Flynn stared at the rectangular package on the bed in front of him. It was wrapped in brown paper; the same kind people had once used to contain old packages. Not only that, but it had been tied up with twine—almost like it had been decorated. Flynn’s hands were weak, and he barely had the strength to pull the envelope out from inside. Down the hall, he could hear the happy squealing of his fellow children—an uncommon sound indeed in St. Justin's Hospice. Something exciting must be in these packages. But what?
Flynn spread the paper out on the bed in front of him with a shaking hand, squinting down at the words. He might be an orphan—everyone at St. Justin's was an orphan—but he hadn’t always been. Lots of other kids his age didn’t know how to read. But Flynn knew. It was one of the few things he could do better than the others here.
“Hello Flynn Murphy,
When my father passed from this earth, he wished to see our family’s fortune used to benefit those most deserving. Please accept this gift on his behalf. Use this window into a better world as I did, and find joy there. Equestria is waiting.
Warmest Regards,
Clement Edmondson”
Flynn tossed the box onto the floor beside his bed as though he’d just discovered it contained venomous snakes. The monitors attached to his chest began to beep more rapidly with his agitation, but he didn’t care. The nurses wouldn’t notice. Flynn ripped the letter into tiny pieces and scattered them as far away from him as he could, like some mystical incantation against the evil that had been delivered to him. As the other children from up and down the halls cheered and giggled, he cowered.
He remained that way until he heard the sound a familiar cane from down the hall, moving a little quicker than usual. Caroline couldn’t move quickly at the best of times—though at least she didn’t need a wheelchair. Flynn could only envy that mobility, remembering with fondness a time when he hadn’t needed a wheelchair. Much had been better back then. He’d still had a family then. They hadn’t abandoned him yet.
Caroline came through the open doorway to his private room, walking slowly and leaning on her cane. She was a wiry little thing, as skinny and unhealthy as most of the kids here. Four feet of cheerful determination, despite her condition. There was more happiness in Caroline than in half the hospice. Unfortunately, she had brought her own “gift” from Clement Edmondson, resting under one arm.
“Hey Flynn. Did you…” she stopped every few steps, keeping herself as calm as she could. That was never an easy thing for someone as cheerful and optimistic as Caroline. “Oh, you dropped it. Let me…”
“No,” he replied, folding his arms. “Don’t.” Were Caroline anyone else, he would’ve screamed. But she was his best friend. If anyone deserved friends who took care of her, it was Caroline. “I want it as far away as possible. Get a nurse—tell them to throw it away for me please.”
“Throw it away?” she asked, stopping beside his bed, and setting her Ponypad down on the bedside table. She turned it slightly to face him, so that he could see the screen. Flynn looked away on reflex, as though she’d just showed him the aftermath of a suicide jumper. He still caught a few seconds of exposure to the painfully cute creatures on the screen, several gathered around in apparent eagerness. “Are you mental, Flynn? You just got a Ponypad! Kids out there are fighting over these. They can’t make enough to keep up.”
He shook his head vigorously. A little too vigorously, as the sudden motion induced a fresh wave of nausea. He looked away, steadying himself against the side of the bed. “I don’t care,” he said again. “I don’t want one.”
Caroline lifted her own away from the table, clutching it with her free hand. “We could play together,” she said. “Team up on the same server. Lots of us are playing together. Elijah is there, Courtney’s there, and Hector too…”
“Great.” He glared down at the brown box that had been sent for him. “I hope you guys have lots of fun. I don’t want to play. I know what happens to people who play those.”
“Huh?” Caroline looked down at the pad she was holding, confused. “What happens? It’s just a game.”
“You’ve been in places like this too long,” Flynn said. “I haven’t. I had a real family… and they taught me Equestria Online sucks. You shouldn’t play it either.”
Caroline sniffed, wiping her face with one of her sleeves. Then she turned away. “Whatever Flynn. Have fun by yourself.”
Flynn opened his mouth to shout back at her, but shut it again. He didn’t really understand what he’d apparently done… but that didn’t matter. Girls could be confusing sometimes. Even Caroline, the best girl he knew.
Caroline wasn’t the only one to visit him. A few minutes later, and Jose hobbled in, his own bright purple Ponypad under one arm.
“Get that junk out,” Flynn said, glaring at his friend as he made his way to one of the chairs and sat down. “You can’t bring that in here.”
Jose ignored him, pausing only to scratch the recently-shaved skin on his head before hopping up into his usual chair. Despite this being Flynn’s room, Jose practically owned that spot. His Magic card collection was there, along with the origami he’d folded while sitting there. The huge pile on the windowsill made it look like he’d improved in his folding as he added to the collection… but Flynn knew they’d gone the other way.
Jose pushed his Magic cards aside and set the Ponypad down on the table, with Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark facing Flynn.
“I said get it out!” Flynn called, raising his voice just a little. “Those things are evil. They’re haunted.”
“They ain’t,” Jose argued. “I wish they were, though. They should haunt you for making Carrie cry.”
“Stuff it.” Flynn tossed an empty applesauce cup from his bedside tray towards Jose. It didn’t even make it to the edge of the bed. “She just wants me to play the dumb game. I won’t.”
Jose seemed to be ignoring him. He adjusted his glasses, taking the controller out from his pocket, and plugging it into the pad. Even from across the room, Flynn could hear a pony’s voice from the pad. He could still recognize the way they sounded, even after not hearing one for over a year. They were too musical, too perfect. Monsters.
“This is the friend you wanted to be with?” said the voice, nervous. “He sounds mean.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Jose said, louder than was necessary. “Flynn is just a butthead when he doesn’t get his way. Something good happens for us, and he’s mad because he says nothing is ever good.”
“Am not!” Flynn argued, reaching for something else to throw. There was nothing else but a fork, and he didn’t want to hurt Jose. So, he settled for throwing a pillow instead. This time he got close, nearly knocking over the Ponypad. “I’m trying to help. Those things are like… those evil spiky plants that eat people.” He made a snapping motion with one hand. “That’s what they do to you.”
“Is that true?” the pony’s faint voice said through the Ponypad.
“No,” Jose grunted. “Look, I’ll be back Daisy Chain.” He waved, then pressed a button on the top of the screen, before setting it face-down on the table. Then he looked up. “Why are you being such a butt?”
Flynn was about to argue, until he realized he was about to be a butt. He took a deep breath, straightening himself out against the back of the bed. “I’m not wrong,” he eventually said. “I know it’s a fun game. I used to play it for hours and hours every day… but it’s not just a game. People kill themselves over that game. It’s so good that they’d rather be there than out here, and blam!” He made a gun gesture towards the side of his head with one hand. “ROADKILL. And then we eat them.”
Jose took a moment to chew on that one. Like Caroline, he had spent most of his life in the system. If he’d been anywhere else, he might not be dying. “Everything you say gets dumber,” he said. “I’ve heard about emi—emigoing—whatever it is. Jesus keeps her from lying to you.”
“Now who’s being stupid?” Flynn banged one of his fists against the back wall, next to the wooden cross mounted above his bed. “If he can’t save us when we’re sick, he can’t save people from Celestia. Just remember, Jose… one day, you’re gonna be having the best time ever on that thing, and your friends who don’t exist will start talking about how worried they are about you. ‘It’s so awful out there,’ they’ll say, or maybe, ‘If you came to Equestria you wouldn’t be sick anymore.’ You’ll brush it off… but next thing you know you’re hearing it in your sleep, and your parents are talking about how great it would be if you just died.”
Jose laughed bitterly. “Then all of us are safe. If we had parents, we wouldn’t be here. So, you can play with us.” He got up and pointed out the hall. “Everybody’s playing. Are you really gonna be a loser all by yourself?”
“Yes.” He folded his arms. “Very.”
“What if it stays fun?” Jose asked. “You roll out in your wheelchair, and everybody’s playing.”
“Then I’ll get the Xbox all to myself,” he said flatly.
“Okay, sure.” Jose picked up the box from where Flynn had dropped it. He set it up on the side table, then removed the string. He started unwrapping it. “We’ll see.”
“Wasting your time,” Flynn said. He wasn’t even surprised that the Ponypad inside was the Rainbow Dash design. His favorite pony. The same as his old pad. The new ones were nicer—they were wireless, they could keep going for days without charging, and apparently had a way better screen. Flynn didn’t care. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Where they all belong.”
“Sure you are.” Jose opened the box carefully, pulling out the Ponypad. He didn’t put it within Flynn’s reach, or switch it on. Instead, he pushed aside some of his crude origami with one shaking hand, and propped it up against the window. This way, Flynn would’ve been able to see the screen, if anything was on it. At least he didn’t turn it on.
“My nurse will be here in a few minutes,” he said. “She’ll just throw it away.”
“Sure,” Jose said again, turning to go. He stopped in the doorway. “What’s the real reason you’re being so dumb about this, Flynn? You get so excited when people send us a single used Xbox for the game room… Some fancy rich guy spends thousands to get us nicer toys than kids have on the outside, and you… freak out.”
Flynn might not have answered, if he’d been more collected. He really didn’t want to. But the words came almost without his prompting them. “Cuz’ I’m not making up anything I said about them. One day I used a Ponypad. Then I got sick. Then I stayed sick. Then my whole family died. Then they threw me in this stupid place with you.”
Jose made a rude gesture with his empty hand. “Screw you too, Flynn. I should turn that thing on before I go.” He didn’t, though. Jose walked away, snapping the door shut behind him. Flynn hated having the door shut, but he couldn’t reach that far to open it. He pressed the “nurse” button on the side of his bed for the thousandth time that afternoon, not expecting a response. None came, as usual.
Flynn was forced to spend the next few hours alone, staring at the little camera at the top of his Ponypad, knowing it was watching him.
“I hate you,” he said, any time he thought it was listening. “I hate you.”