//------------------------------// // You think finding a needle in hay is hard? Try looking in a hurricane then get back to me!- Apple Blooms chapter // Story: The Source Of Our Chaos // by Pinkieshyrose //------------------------------// Apple Blooms little chapter Death. Death everywhere. Wait…I thought death didn’t have really soft, comfortable blankets; or does it?” I mumbled dizzily. I opened my eyes. I could see my bedroom, the sturdy clearly designed room, the very room that I had a hoof in mixing and matching. I was piled high with apple-themed blankets, in my very own canopy bed. “It really can't be; I was supposed to be dead.” Before I knew it, I was skipping around the room examining every nook and cranny for something that might be out of place. I didn't even know what I was looking for, really. Was I alive? Was the tree-house breaking, the face, and the darkness that engulfed me only just a really bad dream? But my friends were there too; somehow I had seen them last in my inspection of the room. Sweetie Belle was softly sleeping and hugging Scootaloo, while Scootaloo wasn't just sleeping, but snoring awfully loudly on the other side of my canopy bed. I didn't remember asking Applejack if we could have a sleepover, so it hadn't been a dream. “We’re alive!” I squealed. I was finally starting to believe it. But how had we gotten out of the mess? Where were the wounds that had been inflicted during the avalanche of the tree-house crumbling and falling right on us? Too excited to let them sleep, I jumped on the bed, grabbing the corners of the blanket with my teeth. “Wars aswive!!” It sounded like, since my teeth were firmly clenched on the covers, waiting for my fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders’ shocked reaction. “We’re sleep deprived? Yes. Yes I am.” Sweetie Belle said annoyingly. I had forgotten that Sweetie Belle was surprisingly not a morning pony, or at least didn't like being woken up. She dunked her head defiantly onto the pillow, then shot up again after realizing what she had said. “Oh sorry, I thought you were Rarity.” She said lowering her head, embarrassed at her own behavior. “We’re alive?” Sweetie Belle asked, now fully awake. Sweetie Belle jumped up on the bed, waking up Scootaloo. “How are we-?” Scootaloo stuttered, absolutely shocked. Sweetie Belle, meanwhile, had jumped on it repeatedly, taking care not to crush Scootaloo. She was so excited, a green spark of magic ignited as she jumped. I stood on the bed, also bursting with excitement. “I don't know either, but we are!!” I started to hop on my bed with Sweetie, full of absolute shock and excitement. It’s not every day that us foals celebrate just being alive, but when you see things that show that you're dead and really horrendous faces, you start to see differently. “I thought…I thought we were dead!” Scootaloo said, still coming to turns with the fact that we were really alive. She tested her wings by doing a helicopter-like attempt at gliding her wings. “But my wings, they’re were crumpled or something, like they’re broken!” Scootaloo stated quizzically. “Maybe we must’ve missed-judged, or some-thin’." Granny, Applejack and Big Mac there are probably all here too!” I was getting ready to bolt out the door, but before that I stared routinely at my flank. “You know, I think we would get our Cutie-“ Scootaloo suddenly stopped talking. “What, how? This has got to be a dream!” Sweetie Belle chimed, dazzled. She must have been the first one to see it. What we saw was shocking. Instead of our flanks being blank like normal, there was a tiny circle on it. The circle changed color rapidly, like there was no real pattern, though it seemed to be a Cutie Mark. There was no way it was though, because cutie marks don't flash. Scootaloo looked proud, but she made sure she couldn't get the circle off by plucking it with her hoof. Sweetie Belle cheered. She was now jumping on the floor, changing position with her excited leaps. “We did it! We got them!” “Uh girls.” I didn't want to take their morale away, but I couldn't just not tell them that these might not be our Cutie Marks. They didn't seem to hear me over their excited, joyous victory leaps that now Scootaloo was participating in. “Uh, I hate to be a Debby Downer, but since when do Cutie Marks flash?” I asked, perplexed. “Well what else could they be?” Sweetie Belle stopped hopping to ask. She looked sad that she had gotten her hopes up. Scootaloo also stopped jumping. “Maybe they mean that our talent is, uh…flashing?” “Maybe they just mean we’re extra special?” Sweetie Belle then visibly hunched her head slightly, resembling a sad puppy dog. “We should ask somepony what they are.” With that I walked out the door, and they both followed behind. “We should probably also ask how we got out of the tree-house?” Sweetie Belle prompted. I had forgotten for a moment about the tree-house. “Yeah, and how our wounds are all…fixed.” Scootaloo put in. “And what time and day this is.” Sweetie Belle looked around. While saying it, she seemed suddenly more concerned, so she took a look around the barn. “Yeah, all that!” I replied. The barn house looked duller than before. I realized my room had to, though it seemed only slightly different, the barn was no longer well lit. There was no more thunder to it. Even in the dark it had never looked this dull, like a bit of the color had been zapped up. Maybe I was paranoid from all the strange events, but I was almost sure there were more shadows than before. As we walked in the living room we met two ponies. They were two of my family members, or at least they were. Granny Smith’s and Big Mac’s coat was the first thing I saw. They looked dead, but they weren't. They weren't zombies exactly, but their coats were pale; they looked like they hadn't gotten enough sleep for years. They were milling, and didn't seem to notice us anymore. They looked tragic. They even moved slowly without purpose, like living puppets without an owner. “Big Mac! Granny! What happened?” I was really scared, and worried. Were they still in there? I ran to them, flinging myself at them in a drastic hug. They seemed off. They acknowledged my presence, but didn't hug back quite as tightly as normal. They also kept still for longer than a normal hug. After I broke up the hug (which was normally, a different Apple Family Member’s responsibility), I asked a question. “Where is Applejack?” I practically screamed.