Hello there. I don’t believe you should be here; I was under the impression this was cats only.
Oh? You didn’t see me before! You should see the look on your face! Yes, I am a cat; a feline, as it were. Come, sit. Might as well.
I’ve been here since… Since who knows how long. There is no way to tell time here. No sun, no moon, no clocks, no stars. It feels like yesterday, but it also feels like years; the world could be ending and I not know it.
What is your name?
That’s a nice name.
What? I never told you mine?
Pardon me. My name — my full name — is Opalescence. You may call me Opal; most ponies and creatures do. Or rather, did.
Did you just fall through your seat?
I shouldn’t be surprised; nobody told me the rules either.
You just have to believe that the clouds will hold you. I didn’t understand myself at first either.
They aren’t clouds really; I just can’t tell you anything else to describe them. They mold like clouds, but…
Forgive me. I’m rambling.
You know, you’re the first creature I’ve seen here. I’ve heard the noise of a train, the sound of paws threading on a hard surface, but never the things that caused them. I once briefly believed I had seen train tracks, but they disappeared faster than my small cat brain could process.
Oh dear. I’ve been around that purple mare too much.
Where am I from? I should really be asking you that, but there’s no point for me anymore.
I’m from Equestria, a land of ponies. Ponyville, specifically. Not the most original name. Someone must have almost missed the deadline.
I live in a clothing shop with a white mare; her near-obsession with gems is the reason for my name.
Often, when she and I were younger, she would pretend I was a prince and she a young maiden. When I would “save” her, my reward was a kiss on the head and a special treat. Maybe that was the reason why I became so fat and spoiled; all those treats!
Oh, why couldn’t I have been kinder?
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
Did your stomach just rumble?
It did?
You’re not de…
A truly living being. Here.
I guess that explains why I can see you.
It’s rather lonely here. Even cats need some company, even if it’s just someone to irritate.
I used to irritate the white mare all the time— claw at the table legs, rip her fabrics; sometimes to have fun, but other times to get attention.
You know what I miss? A ball of yarn. Even if it was to disintegrate the next day, I would still want it.
How do I know this is cats only? Well, as you can see, there are no signs. I felt it, similar to how I eventually figured out how to sit on something other than this ground.
It’s a wonder, really, how one does not go blind in this place, with all this white around.
It’s a wonder I was able to survive so long in that place.
Then again, everywhere, there are risks, some more than others.
Like in a home, there are knives. There is always a risk, even when the children are old enough and responsible, for them to hurt themselves or others.
I definitely hurt that white mare a lot.
◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
I’m so glad to be rid of that hair bow.
I used to wear a hair bow, but only because the white mare insisted; who am I do deny her that, when she worked so many hours on clothing? I’m glad the collar stayed, however. It’s the first thing she ever gave to me.
Anytime she would try to take the collar off, I would scratch her. It didn’t happen very often, mind you, but when it did, it would be gone for a couple of days. I would mope, lie on her fainting couch (oh, how she hated when I did that), and sometimes stop eating. When I would get it back, I would be so happy! I would let her pet me, dress me up, anything! One time, she made me an outfit.
That fabric.
Curiosity…
◊◊◊ ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊
Sorry, I zoned out.
What?
So I am crying. But I’ve never cried before, even when I wanted to.
It must be this place. It’s messing with me, with my senses and my functions.
I never asked to be here. I want to be home, sleeping on my bed, doing things cats do. I should be home. I SHOULD NOT BE HERE!
Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m just so irritated.
Do you want to know why I’m here?
I don’t know why I offered. I’m not even sure if I want to tell you; it’s been painful enough for me.
No. No, I’m going to tell you. I want to get this off my chest.
The white mare…
No. I am going to use her name.
Rarity has… had the most beautiful bolt of fabric. It glittered and shone like the sun, or a polished gem.
She told me not to touch it. She did.
But I was curious.
My mother always said my curiosity would end up hurting me.
I wanted to see it up close, feel it with my own paws.
She told me.
They both told me.
It was near the top of the shelving unit; cubbies, I think I heard Rarity’s sister say. It filled up one whole cubby.
How could I have been so stupid?
I don’t know if I should go on. It’s just so painful…
Pain…
I hurt. It hurt like Tartarus. Or crashing into the sun, the very sun that lends its light for the crops to grow that the earth ponies farm.
I don’t know what part of me got hit. All I remember is the whole thing falling… All the fabric, falling… falling…
And the fabric, my glittering demise, my sun, shone still, but not with kindness.
Well, I was satisfied. I partially fulfilled the proverb. I found out what it felt like.
Heavenly.