//------------------------------// // Ch.1 where it's dark // Story: Second Place // by Pecan Pallet //------------------------------// Ch.1 where it’s dark “The magic of First love is our ignorance that it can never end.” ~Benjamin Disraeli My gut was telling me to leave, just to run and get out of here, but I couldn’t. It was hot, stuffy and hard to breath. My body shuddered with every loud thunderous beat. The colors where bright, shifting through ominous shadows that told me I was unwelcomed. I tried to scream through the mass, but my voice was only but a whisper. I felt so cold, so alone… I awoke suddenly, my throat dry and my stomach aching. I was hot, warm as my heart felt like it was about to burst from stress. I place my hoofs to my moist cheeks, breathing heavily and trying hard to slow it down. I felt a little sick, but maybe it will change when I eat something. My mane clung to my sweating body, making me feel like dirt. I wiped my face with the rugged, brown blanket, which didn’t really help much, but even then I didn’t care. Maybe I should turn on a fan… After a moment of heavy breathing and silent composure, I look up to capture my surroundings. As I should have guessed, I wasn’t in any foreign place. A cheap nightstand with a half broken clock, a closet with a cracked frame, a questionably unstable window and the smell of something rotting in the kitchen… yup, me and my lousy apartment. Rubbing my temples, I curse to myself and everything around me. Sometimes I wished that I was still dreaming, that this petty excuse for a life was just some stupid story in my head. Alas, nothing is ever in my control, and thus, I live this pitiful life. Kicking off my blanked, I remove my flank from the olive green couch, knocking over piles of trash here and there. I should probably clean the place, but I’m the only one that lives here so frankly, I don’t care. I searched around the living room, the location of my cow mug still eluding me. It could be in the kitchen, but when is anything ever in the right spot. It was hard to see much, the natural gray of my apartment being blinded by the clear light that pierced through the shades. I felt miserable, tired and just plan dirty. I thought about taking a shower as my hoof got stuck in the clump I call a mane, but a short, shrill ring rocked through my head. It came again, but it was only till the fifth or sixth ring did I realize what it was. “Hold your damn horses!” I shouted, tripping over an umbrella. Stumbling past my bathroom and to the doorway, I pull off the locks from the door. Without even a glance through the peep hole, I swing the door wide. As the hall filled with light, the pony at my door spoke out. “Delivery!” a bubbly, perky and unmistakably familiar voice said. “Delivery for… Lighting!” the Pegasus squeals at the site of her degraded friend, her voice cutting my brain into ribbons. Holding my head, I tried to hush her down, for me and my neighbors. “Aye, Good to see you too. Now shut up.” “Oh my goodness, I never knew you live here. You should have told me!” the Pegasus said, completely ignoring my comment. “This is, like, the third time you’ve been here! J-just get in.” I said with a hiss. Literally pulling her by the skin of her neck, I shoved her into the apartment, shutting the door before I could see any of my neighbors. The Pegasus, while dodging the litter on the floor, was staring at me with her abnormal eyes. She had a bag slung over, her hoof fishing around for the parcel. My head was ringing, I need water, maybe the pill. The Pegasus was saying something, but I didn’t care to listen. As her muffled murmur was being filtered through my head, I stormed past her and entered my bathroom. As you would have guessed, my home isn’t the cleanest one, but when it came down to the bathroom, it was spotless. I don’t quite know why, but I believe that bathrooms must, at all times, be clean. I’m not really a picky pony, but an unclean bathroom bugs the hell out of me. The bathroom its self wasn’t anything special either, shower on one side and sink and toilet on the other. It’s just… just keeps me sane, I guess. I approached the sink, where I kept my pills and toothbrush. I pulled open the cabinet underneath, grabbing a glass and the orange bottle. After struggling to get the cap off and the glass filled, I downed the pill, looming over the sink. The fossett continued to flow with water, the sound of the water drowning out the sound of the world. The pill was taking it’s time to take effect, my heavy head throbbing with each beat of my heart. I remembered looking up, staring into the eyes of the pony presented before me. It was always different every time I looked at the mare in the frame. She would sometimes look so lovely, her coat, her mane, in perfect sync. Her eyes would be like an untouched aqua sapphire, the dazzling array of blues making me aw in amazement. Her mane, as if it was the wind itself, rolled into flawless, light blue waves that were like no other. The soft, fine coat of snow making her radiate with a brilliant cyan burn. Her lips of silk would comfort me, with words of sweet and right. She would be beautiful, she would be someone, she would be important. But then…there are the other days, when she appears as just a pony. Her coat of ivory and mane of rain, she would stare back at me, with eyes of pain. Her hair a mess and her coat astray, she would hide her face from my curious gaze. The mare before me was nothing to me, like everypony els that passes by me. As I stared at the pony with no Purpose to be, I honestly wished that she wasn’t me. I slammed my hoof on the fossett, a short spray of warm water splashing against my arm. I could only stare at the small droplets of water in the sink as I had no will to move. “I guess today is one of those ‘other days.’” I sigh. “lighting?” my friend said as she approached me with her abnormal gaze. “What is it…” “your Mane’s all messy.” “You don’t say… hay, wait, what are you-?” she pushed up against me, reaching around as if searching for something. I could feel her skin, it was cold from the outside air. Next thing she had a comb in her hoof. “Wait, you don’t need-” it was irrelevant, she already made up her mind. “I’ll make the mane pretty for a pretty pony.” she said as she made the first stroke. It hurt, that’s for sure. My headache began to crawl back again with each brush, my mind telling me to bear with it. I could recognize her act of kindness and I wasn’t about to shove it away. I don’t really deserve this kindness, but… I looked up, back at the frame, but this time I wasn’t looking at the blue and white mare, I was looking at her kind friend who was brushing her mane. The mare behind her as an average Pegasus with a gray coat. Her mane, slightly messy and oily, was a bright blond that glowed like the sun. She was nothing to special, but some could consider her “special.” The mare is a little… light headed. Not only that, but she has a “condition” where her eyes don’t look straight. Because of this, a lot of Pegasus tease her and bully her. She looks up at me, a smile making me feel so warm. I can’t tell if its ignorance or will, but she never seemed bothered by the constant teasing and braiding of insults. I sighed, if only I was like that So innocent and… we have known each other since we were little fillies, and since then… I couldn’t really get her off my back. Even with my crappy self and selfish ways… we still managed to stay friends… somehow… “umm… Thanks… Ditzy doo…” I said, after a moment of fixing my mane. The mare smiles back at me, actually making me feel a bit embarrassed. “aww, it’s nothing.” She said, “If there is anything I can do to help, I’ll do it!” “umm…ya, you go do that.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~