//------------------------------// // Chapter Fifteen: Fading Roots // Story: Bricks in the Wall // by _NAME_ //------------------------------// Chapter Fifteen Fading Roots . I could feel myself slipping. I couldn’t remember the past few hours or much else. Memories were fading like snow on a summer’s day. I was going in rewind, feeling, seeing, hearing everything slide past me, and disappear into the very void I was trapped in. I was trying to hold on, trying to remember. Order failed me. It left me emptier than ever before. My life was flashing, blooming, in my mind and in my eyes like the pop of the paparazzi’s camera except there weren’t any paparazzi. I was alone in my hotel room and in my mind. I had to remember. But I couldn't. My name is Pink, I am a thirty two year old pink earth pony and I am trying to remember who I am before I slip away. I am a famous rock star, adored by millions across Equestria, including the princess herself. My father died when I was young. I never knew him. I was made fun of. Mother smothered and repressed me. She refused to let me live my life. I hate her. My school and teachers were abusive, trying to craft me into something I wasn't. They were a cold, heartless machine. I recently learned that my wife left me for some bastard for no reason. That bitch. She'll see the error of her ways. When I was just a colt, I had a little black book, a gift from some estranged relative. It was just a small, unassuming thing. Not special to anypony but me. To most, it would seem like the fanciful writing of a schoolcolt, but to me it was so much more than that. Oh, the things I poured into that book. Thoughts, dreams, ideas, poems, secrets, there was just so much on its pages. Some of my finest works after I became famous came from scribbling’s in that book. I still have it. I brought it everywhere I went. It was a constant reminder of my past and the things I read in there never failed to brighten my day. But I can’t remember if I brought it with me to Canterlot. My name is Pink Floyd, I have been alive for thirty two years, and I am a famous rock star, loved by everyone. I've been all across the globe, playing for sold-out arenas that I can hardly even remember through the haze of drugs. My father died when I was just a foal, and I don’t remember him. Mother said he was nice though, for all that's worth. My wife, Rêves is waiting for me back home. She promised she’d wait. I have a concert in Canterlot coming up soon. Apparently the Princess herself is supposed to be going. I remember watching a television for the first time. They were developed not too far from home and spread like wildfire into the living rooms of families. Me and Rêves bought four and hooked up one up as soon as we got home. We invited a few of the ponies from the band over and made a big party out of it. We sat around the small box, waiting eagerly as we switched it on for the first time. The picture flickered into life and on it was a pony in a smart looking suit reporting the news. We were so awestruck; I was surprised some of us didn’t faint. A moving picture show right in our own living room! It was like a radio with visual effects. We watched the stallion talk about recent events for a bit before we changed the channel. We went through all the stations fairly quickly; there were only thirteen channels at the time of launch. Thirteen channels of shit to choose from and it was perfect. My name is Pink Floyd, and I am twenty six years old. I got my fourth album out today and I’m so exhausted. We all are, I think. This life isn’t all it has cracked up to be, but it has all been worth it. I can crawl back home tonight, back to Rêves, and I can finally rest. Going on tour in a few weeks, over in the Griffon Kingdom to promote the new album. Should be fun. Have to pop a few pills to get to sleep. I found my first gray hair today. I was already going gray at the tender age of twenty five. It’s amazing what stress can do to you in just a few short years. I woke up this morning, or more like late afternoon. Rêves wasn’t home, so I figured she must’ve gone out shopping or some shit like that. I’d been away from home for a while now, out on tour. I miss her. Maybe I can ask Short if we can postpone our next tour so I could stay a bit longer with her. I stumbled into the bathroom and went through my normal morning routine, splashing water on my face in an attempt to relieve the hangover I had from the previous night. It was as I glanced in the mirror that I noticed a few strands of my brown mane were a light gray; the roots had faded and everything. It’s not an enjoyable experience to realize that you’re getting old. When I left the bathroom, the mirror was shattered and my hoof was bloodied. My name is Pink, and I am twenty one. I was an overnight sensation, it seemed. In just a day, almost all of Equestria knew my name and my music. For a while, it looked as if I would never make it, but I kept at it and now it's paid off. I’m glad I kept writing poetry in school, despite everything that conspired againt me. I love my music. I love Rêves. She supported me this entire way. Without her, I might not have made it. We can get married soon. That reminds me, I should probably go tell Mother what's happened. I was walking around town one day, looking for a present for Rêves for her birthday. I paused, looking into the window of a hoofmade glass shop. There was a nicely crafted bird that had caught my eye and I was considering entering the shop and buying it. Rêves always liked her fowls. I was looking at the price tag when I noticed a streak of rainbow shooting through the sky in the reflection of the window. And then the entire world exploded in a wave of color. I was sent reeling back as a large explosion shook the entire street. I steadied myself against the wall of the shop and looked up into the sky just in time to see a halo of rainbow spread across the atmosphere. It expanded out in every direction, energizing the atmosphere as it went. And went it passed over me, I swear I felt happier than I had ever been my entire life. It was an indescribably sort of joy that made me want to smile and never stop. I glanced around at the other ponies around me and they were all staring up at the rainbow contrails, their faces split in grins. I looked back up at the sky and thought I glimpsed some pegasus zooming by, leaving a rainbow streak in its wake. I couldn’t stop smiling, and I didn’t think I wanted to. It was beautiful. My name is Pink, and I’m seventeen years old. Short, Ox and I all pooled our money to buy a guitar and microphone today. I can finally try and record some of the songs I’ve been writing for so long. We practice on the weekends at Ox’s place, since Mom doesn’t approve of my music. Rêves showed up to provide some support. Man, how did I get so lucky with her? And to think Mom tried to keep us apart. I remember the first time I ever played an instrument. I was over at Short’s house one day, hanging out with him and doing whatever. His parents had gone out somewhere, leaving the two of us alone, so the two of us went exploring in his attic, something his parents had deemed too dangerous, but we didn’t care. After shifting around the boxes for a while, looking for anything interesting, my eyes were drawn to a large, bulky item sitting in a corner covered in a cloth. I wandered over to it and took a few boxes off of its top and pulled the sheet off. And there it was, a black, hardly used, absolutely beautiful piano. I ran a hoof over its wooden exterior, marveling at the craftsmanship involved. I pulled up a box and sat down in front of it. I ran my hooves over the keys and tapped out a few wayward tunes floating around in my head. And very softly, I began to sing along with the music. I am Pinkerton, and I’ve been alive for eleven years. I love my mom. She was sad all day today, since it was the anniversary of dad’s death. How could he go and die and hurt her like this? I hate him. Speaking of which, Sir ranted at us again today because some foal didn’t remember the date pegasi began to control the weather. The idiot went home with a black eye today, courtasy of our teacher. I really despise Sir. Today was my first day of school. Mommy walked with me all the way to the schoolyard, holding my hoof the entire way. She dropped me off at the front gate and left me with a big hug and a sloppy, wet kiss on the bridge of my snout. She smiled and tearfully told me goodbye. Before she even had the chance to say farewell, I shot off into the school grounds to mingle with the other foals. Oh, the school had slides and swings and teeter-totters and merry-go-rounds and all sorts of other fun things to do! I ran around trying to do everything there was to do, playing with the other foals and having so much fun. After a while, there was a bell ringing from inside and everypony filed inside except for me. I wasn’t sure where they were going, with such fun things to do out here. If I could play on all this playground equipment every day, I just knew school would be amazing, even if the other foals had to leave after a while. I was sitting on the swings, trying in vain to push myself higher. After a few failed attempts, I got bored and gently rocked myself back and forth, humming a tune that was stuck in my head. That was when an old, gray griffon strode out of the school and approached me. My name is Pinkerton and I am six. Me and mommy took a train ride today. It was really cool! We zoomed through the countryside and got off in some place called Ponyville. I did not like it very much. From the station, we walked through the town and got to this area with all sorts of stones sticking up out of the ground. Some were rounded, some were square and a few were flat, but most had flowers lying on top of them. Mommy had flowers too and she laid them down at one of the stones. She cried. One day I was bored, so I searched through the whole house for something to do. I remember making my way to the kitchen and going through the cabinets and drawers. I found some utensils in one of the drawers. The sound they made when they clinked together hypnotized me. I took a spoon out and experimentally banged it on the counter. It resounded one of the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard. I giggled and tapped it on the counter again, listening to the notes again. After a while, I began to bang out a steady rhythm with that silver spoon. My name is Pink I am pink Can’t forget . I am pink. I am an earth pony. I am three. I love my mommy. I remember mommy’s voice. She sounds so proud, so full of love. I love her so much. I can also remember a blue colored pegasus stallion. I remember that every night before I had to go to bed, he would bring out his guitar and he would sing me a lullaby. I always loved that time of the day. Then, I would go to bed and if I was still full of energy, he would read me a bedtime story full of adventure and fantastical places. But he could turn out the lights, he always went around my room scaring away all the monsters that had hidden under my bed and in my closet since the previous night. I wanted wings like his, so that I could fly across the sky, but I was stuck without any. I want to fly, but I really don’t have anywhere to fly to yet. Sometimes he would hold me above his head and run around the house so I could pretend I was flying. I loved it. Whenever he smiled, it brightened up the room and made me smile as well. Sometimes, I would take his glasses and wear them, but they made everything go all blurry. I don’t know how he could see like that all the time. But I love him anyway. But he’s gone now. And I don’t know where he went. Everything is so bright and so new. I'm crying at the top of my lungs. I don’t like it out here. There’s so many… different, strange things. I don’t understand. I’m being handled, passed, between various ponies. They’re talking, but I don’t understand. It’s so cold out here. I don’t like it. I continue to cry because it's all I can do. Eventually, things quiet down, save for my own howling wails. I see a pink mare lying on a bed. Some other ponies are hunched over her. This room is so white. One of the ponies passes me to a blue stallion. He looks down at me and smiles. My screams catch in my throat and I look up at him with quiet wonder. Teardrops glisten on his glasses. His mouth moves, but I don’t know what he says. He cradles me. And I smile at him. “…I love you…” I… I don’t… I can’t remember… … … It’s so cold… … … I can’t remember, but… But… ... But, I… … ... But I’m still here… … … … …Everything is fading… … … ...I can't remember... … … … …I can’t remember my name… ... ... …But I’m still here… … … …I’m still… … … … … …I’m… … … … … …I'm here... ... ... ... ... ... ...I'm... ... ... ... ...I... ... … … … … … ...Daddy...? … … … … … …I'm... ... ... ... ... ... ... …I... … … … …I... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .