"Red gala? Royal? Fuji? No, no, no. I feel like I binged on red apples the other night. I should get golden delicious... Hmm..." I snap out of my stupor to realise I'm actually at a flower cart, "I'm sorry, I..."
"It's fine, I get it," Roseluck smiled, she's so pretty I just wonder... Wait, no time to drift off again.
"Just err, just some lilies thanks," I awkwardly slide over some bits and walk off with the bouquet.
Right, sorry, let me introduce myself. My name's Caramel and I live here in Ponyville, it's a friendly little town where most everyone knows everyone. This particular aspect is fantastic for me because it means that ponies know about my problem, and boy do I have a big one.
You see, Equestria is a land of abundant magic and a lot can happen, so there are plenty of cases of magical mishaps. But over time we all learned how to treat these difficult ailments by understanding their magical composition. So you'll understand how difficult it is to cope with unique cases like mine. All across Equestria you'll see some ponies simply just become a different race; this can last from seconds to days. A pony will suddenly have wings or a horn where they didn't before, or maybe they'd lose something; it's pretty rare but you deal with it while it lasts and then you go on with your life.
So with that out of the way let me tell you that I'll change not only my race but also my build and even gender will change. Hell, one of my forms even gets a whole new cutie mark. And this happens on a near daily basis; oh and did I mention we come different ponies in the transition? Because we do. So that's me, Caramel, or Caramel Horse to some but, I'll let The Good Doctor explain that bit later because here we are.
I push open my front door and remember that I was Wings yesterday, he's a pegasus; I know, clever name right? I step around the many discarded cups and food trays and I wonder where in Tartarus does he find these ponies who party so early in the week? Ah well, guess I'd better clean this up before The Doctor sees any of it.
Amongst all the detritus that litters the floor is an old yoke that's clearly been passed around by drunk ponies nowhere big enough to carry it. There's marks and chips all over it, and is that a stain? Really? It's not just any old yoke though, this one's usually kept safe because of whose it is - or maybe was - and it's just been passed around and discarded like this? See, we used to have a form called Chance-a-lot who was as big as Big Mac, and from what I hear, just as nice. A few things happened a while ago and he just never showed up again. I'd rather not get into what exactly, but it was kinda like losing a brother, but one you never met. It's strange but we never actually get to experience each other, we only know from what we're told, or what we find later. Case in point, the mess around me.
I'm broken out of my reminiscing by a sudden groan behind me and I turn to face this cute little earth pony who I never noticed exit one of our few guest rooms.
"What time is it?" she mumbles out with a dry voice.
"Well markets were closing, so mid-afternoon I suppose," funny how times like these don't even phase me anymore.
"Right, good thing it's the weekend," she muses reaching for some water; I didn't have the heart to correct her.
"So you're, like what, Caramel's twin then?" That question though, that definitely still bothers me.
"Something like that I suppose."
"I think he - Och!" a sudden torrent of water cuts her off, hosing her face completely. It took all my fortitude
to not laugh... And me rolling on the floor cackling only proves my weak fortitude. I suppose I forgot to mention I'd recently broken the faucet somehow; I guess I just have that kind of luck.
It took her a few seconds to shut off the water and almost a full minute for her to stop staring at it in shock. After composing myself I gathered a towel for her and two more for the floor. After she dried herself off, and having been given a glass of water, she sheepishly made her excuses and left.
I was once again alone in my flat but there was a glaring issue to take care of. It was with a somewhat practiced ease that I grabbed a bag and collected the mess that littered the place. Half empty cups, piles of hay fries, carpet stains and broken plates all make up the usual fare. I'm glad Wings always knows to replace this stuff without any fuss; I guess all those passive aggressive notes someone sticks everywhere eventually got through.
Finally I get to collapse on the couch and start to nibble on the lilies as I think back on my little encounter. Brother? Cousin? I even got called an uncle once; yeah it's generally too much hassle to explain and it just really grows tiring to do so. No one ever had a cure and it was too unique to study conclusively so all we really know is that it happens and it sucks. But it's fine I guess, we've grown used to it, the annoyance just comes and goes in waves but it gets better... Even if everyone else is having the fun and I'm just cleaning up the mess. I mean I always assumed I was the original, guess we all would, but who really knows... I'm certainly not the most important... Not the coolest... Most liked... Successful, good looking, adventurous...
Wait, was that a knock at the door?
"Mel? You home?" ah the sweet sound of my favourite...
"Big Mac! Coming." Rushing to the door I let Big Red in.
"Awful clean... Party?"
"Hehe, yeah," I chuckle as I rub my forehoof, "please, sit down. Ya thirsty?"
"I'm fine, thank ya," oh how I love his country drawl, "look Mel, ponies been saying ya look down these days, and, well, I know we're... Not..." there are pauses as he looks elsewhere, now there's a story for later, "but I'm worried 'right? How're y'all doing?"
"Oh... I'm, err... Fine," a raised eyebrow tells me that answer won't fly, "I'm just... Lost?"
Mac has always been great with me, he knows he doesn't need to talk, just sit and wait until I'm ready... And so we sat... And sat... And sat. I guess the problem is I really don't understand these feelings myself and I certainly don't know them well enough to communicate it. A few ideas kept getting caught in my throat until all I could do was sigh.
"Alright, well, you know I think of ya as kin," I wince a little inside, "so why don't ya join us for dinner tonight? Like old times."
Right, so, you see, I used to spend a lot of time around Sweet Apple Acres a ways back, back when Chance was around. His big build made him perfect for helping out around the farm, and heavy work meant many naps. And that's our... Trigger? You see we change when we wake up. Or while we sleep, not sure really. I'd often wake up under a tree, or sometimes in one, but this meant the Apple family grew to understand our predicament quite well. Sweet Apple Acres became somewhat of a sanctuary, a home away from home; Even if it was just to the outskirts of town. Oh Celestia! How long had I been staring at him?
I nodded to Big Mac and as he left he told me I could come around whenever I'm ready. Oh man, he's such a sweet guy, yet so tough, and cute, but... OK sorry, let me explain. So Chance-a-lot would be all over the orchid, helping buck trees, carry apples, plow fields, all sorts of chores. But when it's me I'm just so - So very... I've always been so useless...
Sorry, I mean while I was me I just kinda hung around Big Mac because he would always be there for me; He'd listen to everything I'd say and I felt like he understood, and that he cared. In fact, he was the only pony I could talk to and feel he was listening. Other ponies just sort of follow along and they give their piece, but you know they're forming their opinions or judging you, but not Big Mac. This was great until one day when I kinda, confessed, and, you know, asked him out, and, well... Chance was his best friend and it was all a bit too weird for him... I knew it would be complicated and I knew he was too good for me, but I convinced him to just try it one time. But then it just... I think it was just too weird for him and Chance, and I kinda ruined everything; it wasn't long after that Chance just stopped appearing. I guess I robbed Big Mac of his friend and I ruined our sanctuary for too. The Apples still welcomed us but I just never felt I could go back there.
Even still, it would be rude to turn down the offer now so I got myself washed up and headed on over. Dinner was lovely as usual, and not entirely apple themed as many seem to suspect. Apple Bloom jabbered on about school and crusading; Applejack talked chores and friendship; Granny Smith reminisced about, well, everything (apparently ponies these days just don't understand), and all the while Mac just sat back and ate. Not much had changed in this house. Applejack offered to walk me home but I declined and was sent home with hugs and pie. My spirits were that bit brighter after my time with the loving family and I'm sure Mac could see that in me.
As I was strolling through the moonlit fields I thought to my own family. Now I don't want to give the wrong impression but my parents didn't really want foals, and for them to end up with us? Ouch. They tried their best with what they had, but there was no preparing for this, even for competent parents. In a way it was like having a set of quintuplets that you had to raise separately yet simultaneously. When we were grown enough we ran away from home and I don't think they ever put much effort into finding us. They always said we weren't a burden, but I just always felt we were. I occasionally wonder how they are and I've always assumed that they're just much better off.
As I trot through my front door I look around the nice, clean flat and figured there's nothing left for me here so I just went straight to bed. After all, it was an emotional day and I clearly didn't sleep enough last night. As my head hit the pillow and my eyelids grew heavy I was once again unsure when next I would awaken.