//------------------------------// // I'm Spur // Story: My Sister, Cozy Glow // by Mica //------------------------------// I stopped hearing my sister’s voice after my second night in Bitsburgh. I remember Ma and Pa left early in the morning. I got woken up, and it was dark, but I heard some voices. I didn’t hear what they were saying cause I was half asleep, but I just remember trying to say “fuck off” but it just came out like a little mumble “mmmph.” I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. When I woke up again, the sun was out and I was alone. I ordered breakfast in my room and I read the paper that they delivered to the room every morning. I saw the story on the front page about Ma and Pa’s interview. “Post-Gazette: ‘Did you ever love your daughter?’” And Ma said to the reporter, “‘We didn’t love her. We never did. No sane pony would deign to loving such a conniving little devil that our daughter was.’” I said “liar” to the newspaper, and I was waiting to hear my sister’s voice call Ma a liar…but I turned the page, and all I heard was the crinkling of paper. That was the moment when I realized my sister’s voice was gone. I dunno why it went away. If I knew the reason, I’d die a happy mare. Like I was tellin’ Biscuit, if I had known, d’you think I’d be in this state? It was temporary. She did come back. Eventually. But for the rest of the time I was in Bitsburgh, I didn’t hear my sister’s voice, or see her in my vision. After I finished my breakfast of dry toast and orange juice, I went down to the buffet and got myself an omelet. I was working up an appetite, flying around the hotel lobby so many times. For a while, I just sat in front of the water feature in the hotel lobby. The cool water flowed out and trickled down a little waterfall, and then when I closed my eyes the flaming image of my sister was extinguished. It was dark, except for a faint golden glow from the sun coming through the windows of the hotel lobby. Just the sound of falling water. Nothing else. The bellhop asked me if I was all right—“never better,” I said. I left the hotel and flew around the neigh-borhood. There was a salon a few blocks from the hotel. There wasn’t anypony else but me, so the boss came out to do my mane. “Mornin’,” I said. “Good morning, miss. How can I help you?” “I want a…” the salon was silent. It was just the sound of the wind outside. Not a word. “I want my mane and tail restyled,” I finished my sentence. “And how would you like them restyled, miss?” I showed her a picture of Biscuit’s mane and tail. I cut it out from the school paper back in the bayou, from when he was running the bake sale for the local Bayou Preservation Fund. I remember, I kinda caught him by surprise with that photo, and he sorta winked at me 'cause of the camera flash. I’m the photographer for the school paper. A year ago, I knew nothing about cameras—I didn’t even know how to load film properly without ruining it in the light. I think the only reason my classmates voted for me was so that I wouldn’t show up in any of their publicity photos. The stylist took the picture from me. “I like it a lot,” I said to the stylist. Him. I like him a lot. “So you want it short?” the stylist asked. “No, not that short…maybe about this long,” I marked with my hoof. “Do you want it center parted, like in the picture?” “Maybe…I’m not sure. Maybe like…swept to one side. “Which side?” “The left. I want it to go to the left.” “Okay, so…do…do you want your mane in a single flat layer, like in the picture, or more layered?” “Not flat. No. Layered.” “So…you don’t like anything about the mane in this picture?” “Maybe I don’t.” I felt a little pain inside when I said that. And it made me feel good that I felt that pain. “But I like it.” Biscuit’s a good sport. I’ve called him “my bitch” before, and he was fine with that. But…that doesn’t really count cause I said it in the heat of passion. “Then, what do you like about the picture?” the stylist pony asked. “I like…erm…” “Perhaps you like the sort of more random, wet look, compared to what you have?” “Yes, yes definitely!” Wet. Yes, wet. Reminds me of Biscuit in more ways than one. So, she mixed a bunch of potions together and put it in my mane. It had to sit for an hour. Nopony else was in the salon. It was quiet. I heard the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. “It’s quiet,” I said out loud. “Oh, we’re usually much busier, I assure you,” the stylist pony quickly said while she was sweeping up the floor. “No, that was a compliment.” I closed my eyes, and I let my ears droop so that they were covered. Dark. Silence. Silence. Silence. Dark. I created my own picture. I imagined myself kayaking in the bayou with Biscuit. Except in the summer, so the trees have leaves and it’s private. There’s a little breeze, and his mane twitches on his head. I like his mane. It’s the second cutest part of his body. The first cutest part I’m not gonna tell you, because Biscuit gets mad when I call it “cute.” Hehe. When I opened my eyes a few minutes later, my curls weren’t as tightly wound anymore. It was working. “It’s working,” I said out loud. “Yes, of course it is,” the stylist pony said. “What did you use?” She showed me the product. It was the exactly the same thing I used at home before Hearth’s Warming. The potion from the Canterlot beauty spa that was “guaranteed to straighten manes.” Why didn’t it work the first time? I dunno. Maybe I followed the directions wrong? Maybe…I didn’t shake the bottle before opening? Oh, wait I did. I’m pretty sure I did that. I dunno. If I knew the reason why, you think I’d be in this state? After 90 minutes, the tight curls in my mane and tail turned into soft waves. The stylist pony rinsed the stuff off, then she gave me a shampoo and a blow dry. My mane and tail were short and wavy, and the green color made it look like leaves hanging from a willow tree. I swept my mane to the left side, and I combed a little sideways fringe. It followed my directions. I paid the stylist and thanked her. “You’re more than welcome,” she replied. “It looks great, miss…miss…” “I’m Spur,” I said. “I’m…” and then I realized that I didn’t need to add a second sentence. It was silent for a few seconds. “You were going to say something?” “No, not at all.” “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Spur. I hope you enjoyed your experience.” “I did. Thank you.” And then I left. I had lunch at a cheap diner (I was damn tired of fancy room service food). I sat at the milkshake counter, next to this colt who said I was cute. He wasn’t cute lookin’ at all compared to Biscuit, but before I told him I had a coltfriend already (Okay, he never said I was his coltfriend, but it makes me feel nicer if I call him my coltfriend), I told him my name. “My name is Spur. I’m visitin’ from the bayou, near Hayseed Junction.” And then I ordered a large vanilla milkshake and licked the cherry on top for him to see. I got a good laugh out of that. Guess who’s gonna be standing with his flanks twitching and his hind legs crossed tonight. After lunch, I went into the boutique next door. Even after spending 40 Bits at the mane stylist, I had enough Bits to buy the nicest dress in the shop. Ma and Pa gave me a lot of Bits to spend cause I’d be by myself in the hotel room and room service is expensive. A huge bag of Bits. I remember when my sister left for Ponyville, Ma and Pa didn’t give her Bits. They got her pillows, a cup, and a real nice dress. It was a baby blue chiffon dress, with a white lace trim. They were supposed to have yearly dances at the School of Friendship, and Ma and Pa wanted her to wear it for those events. They had to order it by mail cause there a’int any dress shops in bayou (Actually, I don’t think there are any shops, period). My sister loved it. Even when Ma and Pa weren’t around she said she loved it, so I don’t think she was lyin'. “It’s such a lovely dress, don’t you think so sis?” I remember she said. She actually did look real pretty in it. “It’s such a pity they didn’t get you one, sis,” my sister said. “Golly, if I saw my sister got a dress and I didn’t, why, I’d be just so mad.” I was pretty jealous. I wanted a dress too. I told Ma and Pa that I wanted a nice dress, and they said they’d get me one at Hearth’s Warming. That year, I opened up my present and you know what dress I got? The exact same dress that they got my sister. Blue chiffon, with a white lace, but in my size. I didn’t say thank you to Ma and Pa. I threw it into my sister’s room, which was empty cause my sister was in Tartarus, I shut the door, and I didn’t even touch the door handle for at least a week. I also didn’t sleep for two weeks. The dress store in Bitsburgh had a dress I really liked. Navy blue silk with a black collar. It was on the clearance rack. It was my size, in a pegasus cut, and 50% off. I ended up not getting it. The salespony didn’t want me to buy it. She tried to push a more expensive pink chiffon dress. Except for the color, it looked almost exactly like the one Ma and Pa got my sister. “It suits you beautifully, miss,” the mare said as I was lookin’ in the mirror. “I know it does,” I said. “Will you take this dress?” “No.” “But I thought you said it suited you.” It did suit me. That was the scary part. I didn’t answer her. I looked at myself in the mirror. I turned to my left, to the right. My new mane was gettin’ rigid. Maybe it was just my eyes—but the curls were staring to come back. “It flows very nicely,” the salespony said. I was startin’ to hear little noises again. I barely heard it mixed with the sound of the heating vents, but it was there. It was a little hissing in my head. Like a vessel bursting. I stared at the mirror even longer. I felt my scalp pinching, like the curls were gonna come back. The hissing turned into a whisper. And then…words. Gggg… Ssss… Oh, golllll… I ripped the dress in half before Cozy could finish the word. I blinked a couple times. I felt awake. Like I was dreaming. And I just woke up. I looked in the mirror again. There was my dark brown fur, my cutie mark, my new wet-look mane and tail. And below me…the dress. My sister’s dress—no, the dress shop’s dress. It lay lifeless on the cold floor. Not just ripped in half, but in unrecognizable shreds. I guess I tore it into shreds. I saw the bite marks. I didn’t say sorry. I actually felt real happy that afternoon. I was tryin’ not to laugh. I paid for the damaged dress. I dug up a stack of Bits from my bag, and heard it clink on the counter. It was silent again, thank Celestia. I took the shreds of the dress, I flew to the Panther Hollow Bridge, and tossed it into the lake below. It wasn’t heavy. I didn’t even see it splash. My wings felt light again, and I hovered a couple inches higher from the ground. I went to a bookstore and bought some new books for me to read. And then, I actually found the same navy-blue dress that I wanted at another boutique. The salespony was much nicer than the last one, and I got for even cheaper. He wrapped it up and put it in a large bag for me. I put everything in that large bag, and I flew back to the hotel. I made sure to get back before sunset—but I was too late. My wings almost tensed up completely when I opened the door and saw Ma and Pa’s faces right behind the door. Glaring at me. Ma and Pa took turns glaring at different parts of me. Pa first glared at my mane. Ma first glared at the shopping bag hanging on my right foreleg. “You have a lotta explainin’ to do, Spur.”