Distant Fields
Distant Fields
Dear Journal,
Eh... you're not really a journal but whatever. I guess I'll just start typing. Reason? Well, the drome's shrink thinks it'll help us lower our stress if we write our thoughts out, even if they're only going to be kept personal.
Hmmm..
Well... at least I hope they will... if Arty ever finds these logs he's never gonna let it down. Going to let it*.. meh, whatever. Why should I bother with proper grammar, anyway? Nobody... or nopony as she used to say, (heh), is ever going to read these anyway. Besides, why use proper grammar in the first place as long as people can still understand what your sayin?
Whoops, I think I've gone off the rails a bit.
Anyway, to get back on topic, I should make a note here to burn these when I'm done, Arty won't ever be able to find them that way. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust and all that good stuff... unless Arty really is one of them magic British Wiccan folk I've heard of. Sounds crazy, but crazy is something I've been introduced to in the past. Basically, what I'm sayin is that If you're reading this Arty, Im onto you.
Alright, enough rambling. Time to get to the juicy bits.
I guess I'll start by saying it's time like these that I really miss her, my good ole friend. Heh, I haven't even flown my first sortie and yet... god I wish she were beside me. I still remember the time I met her, oh so long ago but there before my eyes whenever I want it to be, so vivid it's like it was just yesterday.
Mmmmph...
Well that was uncharacteristically poetic of me. I'm a simple man, nevermore. Anyway, here's what went down:
Before him, all a young Thomas Mayflower could see were bright yellow cornstalks, them flowing lightly in a warm Alabama summer's breeze as he made his way through their towering presences. He giggled as he held up a menacing looking rifle before taking a couple of shots at a gray longcoat wearing soldier who had suddenly popped out of the corn before him, his gun jutting towards his shoulder and emitting two loud bangs.
"Take that, ya lousy hun!"
With that target down, he quickly twirled about, his eyes going wide as he two more fully grown, gas mask wearing soldiers charged towards him, their guns as real to him as his, and their shining black boots tramping down in the dirt. With that, a sense of panic came over him.
"Gotta get back to base!" he shouted desperately to nobody in particular.
With that, he turned about and began to run, the body of the previous soldier he had downed no longer there. Despite the fact the soldiers were twice his size, when he looked over his shoulder he saw he had made it ahead of them by a large margin. He grinned at his success before beginning to zig-zag as the two soldiers began to take shots at him. Rifle bullets kicked up dirt and tour through corn-stalks all around him, the enemy naturally being terrible at aiming.
"My pa could shoot better than you guys blindfolded!" he called, turning his head again and sticking out his tongue at the black gas masked figures.
He heard inhuman growls from them before he picked up his pace; eventually growing so far ahead he made a gut call that they he probably wasn’t even visible anymore. With that, he made a quick left and jutted down a long path between two rows of corn, hoping the soldiers would pass right by him. One of the gas masked soldiers seemed to grow a brain at that point, however, and began tracking the light tracks the young child made, following his turn.
Thomas' eyes grew wide at this. With that, he twirled about, dropped to one knee, brought his rifle to his shoulder, and looked down its sights. At the same time, the figure raised its own rifle menacingly.
"Should have followed yer buddy!" Thomas called, before preparing to pull the trigger.
However, before he did so, he caught something peculiar out of the corner of his eyes. He looked towards it, and through the swaying corn stalks he saw something moving towards the soldier. He couldn't make out exactly what it was, but its odd color was easily noted: light blue.
"Hiiiiiyaaaa!" a voice yelled as a something darted out of the nearest row of corn to his right, straight at the gas-masked figure. Strangely though, it didn't seem to disturb the corn as it did so, and the same went for his soldier. Instead, it leapt upwards a foot or so before flying right through it. At this point, he could see what it was, and he couldn't believe his own eyes. It was a small, light cyan pony, probably a filly.
He raised his eyebrows. A talking pony? Why had he imagined that of all things?
The pony grunted in disappointment at its failed tackle before actually standing on hind legs and attempting to bring two hooves down upon the soldier. However, those too went right through it. His eyebrows rose even further. He had never seen ponies do that before either... but then again, it did talk.
At this point, the soldier was no longer reacting. Instead, it was actually starting to fade from existence as Thomas’ mind’s full attention was turned on the pony. After all, it was just his imagination’s creation.
"Hey, what gives?!" the pony complained, its voice a bit high-pitched and squeaky though not annoying. Instead, he actually found it to be sort of adorable.
Sensing that this figment of his mind was not hostile like the soldiers, Thomas began to creep towards it slowly, holding his wooden gun in a neutral stance as he did so. The pony seemed to take notice of his presence at that point, causing Thomas to halt in his tracks, gripping his toy rifle nervously. Something seemed wrong. This... this pony didn't feel like it was a part of his imagination, yet how could she (it sounded like a she) see the soldier he had conjured up, and how had it not moved the corn stalks when it passed through?
"You're not going to disappear too, are you?" she asked, quirking her head at him slightly. She then sighed, shaking it in a slightly exasperated manner before looking down towards the ground and kicking at the dirt with a hoof. "Man, this is the weirdest dream ever..."
Thomas raised an eyebrow at this curiously. Apparently his imaginary friend was a bit confused, though still, she didn't seem to be that mean.
"Well uh... I can't really disappear," Thomas said slowly. "Because I'm real. The soldier was just a part of my imagination."
"Yeah you can! You'll disappear when I wake up!" the young pony squeaked matter-of-factually, gaining an annoyed glance from Thomas.
"This aint any dream. You're part of my imagination!"
The pony shook her head, the rainbow colored mane she had flowing about. It was another peculiar thing about her. He had never seen any pony with such a colorful complexity before. This was all just too strange... he had imagined some weird things before, but they were all based around things he had seen. The soldiers he was fighting, for instance, were based around pictures of foreign troops he had once seen in school.
"Nuh uh!" she said.
"Yuh huh!" Thomas replied.
The pony then smirked. "Well then, if I'm part of your imagination then make me disappear!"
Thomas frowned. "How about you make me disappear then, if I'm part of your dream!"
"Fine!" the pony huffed.
"Fine!" Thomas grunted.
With that, he saw the pony squint as if she was entering a mode of deep concentration. Thomas soon did the same, trying his best to force the pony from existence. It wasn't anything personal, she seemed somewhat nice, and had also tried to save him from the soldier he had conjured up (although he didn't really need it so), but his pride wasn't going to allow him to be beaten by any figment of his imagination, so he'd just make her go away for a second to prove to her that he was the real deal... and then bring her back right afterwards. After telling his mind to do just that, he then opened his eyes, expecting her to be poofed into nothingness, only to see she was still there.
After a second, she opened her eyes as well before letting a bit of steam out of her snout in what Thomas guessed was annoyance.
"How come you're still here?!" she cried.
Thomas frowned at that. "How come you're still here?!"
"I don't know!" she said.
"Well neither do I," Thomas huffed before turning away from her, his arms folded as he held his wooden rifle with one hand. After a quick second though, a slight smile crept on his face. At the very same time, a flock of butterflies were beginning to fly from his stomach to his throat.
He then began to chuckle... and that chuckle quickly swelled to a laugh.
"What's so funny?" the pony's voice said, it sounding a bit agitated.
Thomas turned around to meet her, his laughter dying but his smile never following. "It's just... both of us are trying to make the other going away when... well... maybe we're both real?"
The pony narrowed her eyebrows. "B-But... you're just something in my dream!" she said, exasperated. "I remember falling asleep just a second ago... How could you be real?"
Thomas shrugged. "I'm not sure, but like my pa always says, 'there's some things in life ya just can't explain'. Maybe this is one of em'."
"I've never even seen anything like you before, though.. what are you?"
"Well I'm..." Thomas lowered his eyebrows, lifting and tilting his head upward in a thinking position. "I'm a person!" he finally concluded. "But... how could you never hear of a person before? You're a pony!"
The pony made what looked like a shrug at that. "I've never heard of any creature called a person before, sorry."
Thomas then brought a hand to his chin, a lightbulb switching on over his head. "Well, I guess that makes sense. You've never heard of a person before and I've never heard of a talking pony that can go right through corn stalks like it aint nothing." His eyebrows then rose at that. "Wait, are you a ghost pony?!"
"Nope, I'm a pegasus pony!" she said, her voice laced with pride as she wiggled a set of pint-sized wings attached to her. They sort of looked like a chicken's to Thomas.
The young boy smirked with a narrowed eyebrow. "Hey, pegasuses aren't ponies! They're horses!"
The filly stuck her tongue out. "Nuh uh! I'm as much of a pegasus as a pegasus gets, and one day I'm going to be the fastest flier in all of Equestria!"
"Equestri-wah?" Thomas said, blinking.
The pony narrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "You've never heard of Equestria, before?” She then gazed about her curiously, as if that would explain where her present position was. “Where am I, then?"
"You're in Tristone, Alabama," Thomas announced, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Oh..." the pony said. "Well, I'm not really sure where that is... but I guess it doesn't matter anyway. I know this is just a dream. I'll be up soon in my own bed back in Cloudsdale."
"B-But..." Thomas said, ignoring the fact she had just mentioned another strange location. "What if you are a ghost? I mean... you can move right through stuff..."
"Don't say things like that! That's a scary thought..." the pony said, shivering slightly.
Thomas put on an apologetic frown. "Sorry..."
"You'd better be," she teased, a mischievous grin crossing her face. "Cus if I were a ghost, I might come and haunt you!"
She then took a menacing step forward. Thomas put on a look of playful fear. "No! Anything but that!"
The pony gave a playful growl before pouncing towards him. "You better run! Here I come!"
With that, the filly began to chase the young boy, them prancing about all day as if they had known each other for years despite their unusual circumstances, their giggles echoing throughout the corn field under a fading sky.
It's sort of weird how I never even asked her her name before we got right to it. I guess she was just so... open to friendship. Hmph, ya know, now that I'm thinking, I'm REALLY glad the shrink isn't asking to see these notes. I'd look nuttier than the Three Stooges in a walnut factory. Hehe, and just wait til I get a little further in time too, gooooood lordie. Anyway, guess I'll type up a bit more tomorrow, I'm feelin like a drink or two...
Hmm...
I wonder if Arty is still hangin out in the woods. Maybe he's finally stopped spending his money on those weird herbs and will have enough to buy a scotch with me for once.....