Chapter Twenty-Three
The Wall
I breathed in.
My name is Pink, and my entire life has been full of heartache and misfortune, and none of it has been my fault. I’m the victim. I always have been, since the very beginning.
That’s what I always thought, what I always knew.
I was blameless.
But now…I’m not so sure.
Everything is different.
I feel wrong.
My entire life, I was trying to protect myself, cut myself off from the evils of reality, but, in doing so, was I also hurting others, driving them away from me?
Had I been wrong my entire life?
A bell rang, drawing my attention outwards.
The room seemed to lack any definition to it. I couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long without beginning to see some other part of the room. It stretched out endlessly, but also seemed incredibly intimate, familiar even, as if it was some place I had known for all my life, despite not.
And I certainly couldn’t see any bells.
But then one rang again, somewhere high above, and resounded a few more times before fading away.
I looked at those balconies, filled with thousands and millions of figures, some not even pony. Many of their eyes were on me, and I had no doubt that I had wronged them in some way.
I wasn’t entirely sure if they were witnesses, the jury, or just mere onlookers.
The bell rang again, drowning out all other noise.
And it was at this point that something at the judge’s podium caught my attention. There was something moving in the shadows that shrouded most of the stand. Through the darkness, I could make out a faint outline of some hulking monstrosity that I could only assume was the judge. But, from the way whatever it was was moving and shifting, I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to see it at all.
Another bell tolled, reverberating around the space for longer than strictly necessary, and then fell silent.
For a few seconds, like before, nothing happened, but then, the large doors I had entered from burst open, yet revealed no one there.
There were a few more seconds of nothing.
“Good morning, your honor!” cried a nasally, refined voice, seemingly from nowhere.
And then the doors slammed shut with a hefty bang, without anyone having entered. The entire room quickly grew silent and gave their attention to the floor. Nothing stirred, and the only sound that remained was the steady pace of hooves clicking against the indescribable floor, and a gentle cough.
As far as I could tell, nothing had changed no one had entered, but then, seemingly appearing from out the bricks of the wall, a boorish-looking, rotund stallion wearing a ridiculously large neck ruff and long, trailing tailcoat strolled out into the center of the room.
He approached the front and gave a deep, flourishing bow to the judge’s stand before turning and giving a curt wave at the audience and jury high above. Next, the stallion twirled to face me, his coattails flowing behind him. His eyes searched over me, feeling me, and then looked away in disgust.
The lawyer, for that was what he was, cleared his throat and began to pace the floor, his face scrunched into an intense expression. “Now,” he began, speaking to everyone, “the crown will plainly show the prisoner before you,” he pointed an incriminating hoof at me, “was caught in the act of showing feelings, of all things! Feelings, everybody!”
The crowd above erupted into a cacophony of jeers and yells at the stallion’s words. I could feel the contempt the mob felt for me, though I had no idea why. The judge, though, stayed silent, watchful.
The stallion smiled at the crowd’s shouts, which only served to further the deep wrinkles that creased his face. He waited for them to fall quiet before continuing. “Yes, yes, I know. He is accused of having real, live, tender feelings. Feelings of an almost poignant nature! For once in his pitiful existence, there was a twinge of emotion in his guarded heart! A spark of empathy for his fellows!”
He glanced up at the shadowy figure at the judge’s stand before stalking away and standing some length away, his beady eyes glancing over me. He licked a hoof and slicked back his thinning mane. With a sweeping motion, he looked at the crowd, the jury, and gestured at me. “Here he is, friends, a pony—a stallion—who shut himself out from the rest of the world because of what? Because he was hurt? Because he was angry? Because his mommy told him to? Because he was, and is still, afraid?”
The lawyer paused and tugged on his ruff before continuing. “He lived most of his life with emotionless detachment, content in that he never got too close to anyone that could ultimately harm him. He then grew older, completely oblivious as the few meaningful connections he had begun to wither and withdraw from him, tired of trying to break through his shell.
“And now, what is probably too late, after some arduous events, he found a crack, an imperfection, in that all-consuming wall of his, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of pure, unadulterated emotion through the gap. And when he turned to look, it was gone, and he was left wondering if, maybe, something was wrong with his self-imposed isolation, his almost comatose state. He found doubt pervading his peace.
“That is why we’re here, folks.” His eyes were on me. “Our one Mister Pinkerton is not feeling very well. His marbles have escaped him for the time being. And we’re all here to show him what he’s done, and maybe gather them back up for him.”
He walked away with a cocky grin smudged on his features. He cleared his throat louder than needed and thumped his chest twice. “Now call in his schoolmaster!”
There was nothing for a moment, once again, and then, from the top of the wall, dropped in a familiar griffon, complete with walking cane and malicious smirk.
Sir strode forward, cane clattering on the floor every other step. He looked just as how I remembered him, if even more angry and disappointed and terrifying.
Twisted.
As he neared, I wanted to shrink away from him, but couldn’t. He paid me no mind, casting a scrutinizing eye over his surroundings before giving a brisk nod to the lawyer and the judge.
But then he turned to face me, yet still didn’t say anything. He merely stared at me, disapprovingly, as if he would rather be anywhere else but. Eventually, he flexed his wings, readjusting them, making his form seem even more imposing than it was, and then sighed.
He spoke, his voice biting and cruel. “You know,” he tucked his cane under his arm, “I always said he’d come to no good in the end, your ‘onor. I knew he’d never achieve nothing, not really, that he’d always be the same lazy, idiotic foal I struggled to teach. Even with all his success, he has nothing, he never learned ‘ow to properly live.”
Sir shook his head and wiped his glasses on a handkerchief, deep in thought. “He never stayed in line either, no matter what I did. All his other classmates did as they were told. They fit the mold they were given. But our Pinkerton,” he jabbed a claw in my face, “was always a rambunctious lil’ bugger, an uncontrollable variable.
“You know,” he chuckled, “if they’d let me have my way, I could’ve flayed him into shape. I could’ve done my job! That’s all I wanted to do! My job was to teach him, and he made it so difficult! ” With those words, a murmur broke out in the audience and a few heads turned to glare at me. I wanted to disappear now, away from all the accusations, but was powerless.
And Sir continued, an amused smirk growing on his face as he watched my own discomfort. “But my hands were tied, everyone! Those bleeding ‘earts an’ artists let him get away with murder! He coulda just stayed in place an’ everything would’ve been fine, but he sought to defy me at every turn! All I was asking for was compliance! Was that so hard to do!? Was it!?”
At that, the audience broke out in cheers, yelling their support for the griffon’s plight and my guilt. Sir knew it was killing me, so he let it continue for several minutes, eyes locked with mine. He smiled.
After what seemed an eternity, he cleared his throat and made the room quiet down. “Pinkerton was selfish,” he said. “Never gave much thought about what his actions brought, an’ ‘ow much he disrupted the classroom. I was never properly able to do my job because of him, all because he was too scared to just do the right thing an’ follow the rules, an’ live a normal life.”
He paused and then started again. “If he stopped ‘iding behind masks, then maybe he could find his own place in life an’ be a proper person. That’s all I wanted ‘im to learn. Truly.”
He turned to the judge, arms spread wide. “I’ve waited so long to do my job, your honor. Will you let me hammer him into shape today? Won’t you let me do what needs to be done?!”
There was a deafening silence in the room as Sir stared up at the darkness. Something shifted in there and I could sense it glaring out, watching over the proceedings, over Sir. I tried to focus on whatever was there, but could see nothing. A sense of uncomfortable dread settled in over the room, and my former teacher seemed to deflate like a balloon under the judge’s silence.
Sir’s arms fell limply to his sides, muttered something under his breath, and nodded in understanding. With a final glare at me, he stalked over to the side of the judge’s stand, where he stood in silence.
It was true that I hadn’t been the best student. I never put much stock in the system, in learning. He always did try, and because of me, always failed, and that always resorted to violence.
The lawyer from earlier took the floor once again, nodding. “Fine words.” He nodded again. “Indeed.”
He drifted over next to me, his tail swishing across my shoulders and chest. I couldn’t see his face through the large neck ruff, but I could just tell he was just beaming.
“Now,” he said, tapping a hoof on the floor, “we have another witness to show!” He licked his lips. “Call in the defendant’s wife!”
And with those words, the lawyer slipped away, returning to his spot near the judge, and now, Sir.
There was nothing.
I—
“You little shit.” came a venomous voice behind me. From in between the bricks of the wall itself, slithered out a mare I knew all too well. She sauntered to me, hair flowing free, hips promiscuous, mouth set in an angry scowl. My wife trailed a hoof on the outer edge of my jaw and down my chest. She smiled, just a little, and then shoved me against the wall, taking pride in my discomfort.
She cackled. “You’re in it now, aren’t you, Pink? Everything you’ve done has finally caught back up to you, and now you’re in here. Fitting, for you.” Rêves flaunted away, looking at the crowd and even blowing a few kisses at them, before turning back to me.
“You know, I hope they lock you away in a cell and throw away the key! You don’t deserve to be free.” A scoff. “You put this on yourself. You should’ve talked with me more often than you did.” She hit me again, her face alight in rage. Her fiery mane seemed to be burning along with her. “But no! You had to go your own way, and leave me, your own wife, alone!”
She was snout-to-snout with me now, nothing but seething hatred ablaze in her features. “Tell me, Pink, dear husband, have you broken up any other homes up lately, huh?! Have you destroyed the lives of any other unsuspecting mares?!” Rêves circled me, talking down from every angle. “It’s not like I didn’t know you were sleeping with other mares! You did it all the time! Anyone you could get your grubby little hooves on!”
She bit back a sob. “It tore me up inside, knowing that you never really cared about me! I was just another one of, who knows how many mares, wasn’t I, you bastard!?” Her voice grew quieter. “I stayed faithful all the years you weren’t, and the moment I give in to temptation and find solace in the embrace of another, you freak out about it!
“You're despicable. The scum of society. I don’t know how I even fell for you in the first place. You were so self-centered and aloof, even back then, that I can’t believe I never saw this coming.
“After this, I never want to see you again,” she growled through gritted teeth. “We’re through.”
She turned away from me, casting a look over the crowd as if she had forgotten they were there and approached the judge. “He deserves so much more than whatever punishment he’ll get here. I need my own retribution. As his wife I deserve that much. Just five minutes, your honor, him and me, alone!”
But just like Sir’s request before, she was met with silence.
And, with a defeated sigh, and one final glare at me, she slunk off to stand beside Sir.
I did abandon her. I lost myself in the rock and roll lifestyle, the sex, drugs, the partying. I’ve cheated on her more times than I could ever count, and she stayed true. But the moment I discovered she was sleeping with somepony else, for however long, I completely fell apart.
What kind of husband treats his wife like that?
With a slight nod at my wife as she passed by, the prosecutor returned to his place in the center. “Very nice.” He readjusted his tailcoat for a second and then spoke again. “Now, we do have more witnesses to call, so let us continue with the third.”
He smiled. “Call his mother to the st—”
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe!” A large, imposing figure exploded into the room, drawing the attention of everyone in it.
My mother stood there, concern and love splattered across her face like badly applied makeup, frantically searching the room. When her eyes fell on me, her face split in a wide smile and she practically lunged across the room, scooping me into a tight, tight embrace.
“Oh, come to momma, baby, come here, my little boy. Let me just hold you in my arms for a while.” She planted multiple, wet, sloppy kisses all over my face. “Oh, my little sunshine, what’s happened? Are you okay?” She turned and glared at Sir, at Rêves, but quickly returned her loving coddle to me. “Did that nasty, mean, old griffon, and that no-good, dirty mare hurt you? It’s okay…” She stroked my head. “It’s okay…
“You should’ve listened to me, Pink. I could’ve saved you all that heartache. Momma knows best.” She smiled sweetly and kissed me again. “I love you so, so, so much.”
Some emotion flickered across her face. “Now, hold on for a minute, okay, sunshine? Momma has to talk to that silly judge up there, okay?” She then shifted slightly, moving her attention to the judge, blanketing me in her shadow. “Milord, I never wanted him to get in any trouble, honest. I always tried my very best to keep him safe and out of harm’s way, away from all the evil in the world.
“That’s all a mother’s role is. To protect and raise their children, and keep them safe and uncorrupted all their life. When he got together with that harlot of a mare,” a pointed stare at Rêves, “I tried to talk him out of it, because I could tell she was no good, and I was right, wasn’t I? Look what she did to my poor baby!
“And I love him so very much. I would give anything to keep him safe and content, but he never understood that. Sure, he headed my warnings and reciprocated my love for a few years, but after a while, he only pushed me away. He hated his own mother!” She sighed. “And why? Because I loved him? Why is that a crime?”
She paused. “It only worsened over time. He grew to resent me more and more, until the day came he just moved out, and went down the very path I had tried so hard to save him from going down. Do you have any idea how hard it was to just sit at home and have to read in the newspaper about my own son’s reckless antics and rock and roll lifestyle?! We haven’t seen each other in over twenty years, and we’ve only sent maybe five letters between us in that time!”
My mother broke off, throwing a glance and a smile over her shoulder at me. “I…” She stopped again. “With his father gone, he’s all I have left in this world… I just wanted to make him happy, that’s all…” She shook her head. “Why’d he ever have to leave me?”
She turned again and enveloped me in another hug. “Oh, why’d you ever have to leave, sunshine? I love you so, so much. I just wish that you’d love me back… I don’t know where I went wrong.” She stroked my head. “Why’d you ever have to leave me, Pink?”
Mother kissed me once more and then looked back up at the judge. “Please, your honor, let me take him home. I can keep him safe there, out of any more trouble.”
And just as earlier, there was only silence. With a defeated sigh she set me down and shuffled over to the others. She stood there, an overwhelmed, longing look in her eyes.
I felt lonely now.
I really was horrible, wasn’t I? I damned my mother for nothing more than loving me. When all she wanted was what was best for me, I rebelled in every way.
What kind of son does that?
The lawyer reentered the floor. “Touching.” He sneered. “This is the kind of person that our Mister Pinkerton is. Uncaring and selfish.”
And I was, wasn’t I? Most of my life, I pushed everyone away, afraid that they would hurt me.
But that very action of self-imprisonment was what was harming me in the first place.
Ever since my father.
The stallion flourished a hoof. “Now, the next person to call t—”
There was a deep intake of breath from the judge’s stand. The lawyer froze mid-sentence and flipped around to stare up at the shadows. Everyone else did similar, unsure what was going to happen.
“STOP!” A booming voice thundered over our heads.
Something stirred in the shadows behind the judge’s podium. Through the darkness, I could see a dim outline of a hulking mass, but nothing more.
And then it bent forward and the blackness scattered, revealing the huge form of a crudely stitched together, pink, stuffed doll. It glared down at me with sharp button eyes, its mouth stitches curling upward.
Bits of stuffing poked out through its skin, and in several places there were off-color patches sewn over what once must have been a tear. It was as if someone had once been taking very good care of it, but then stopped, forgotten about it, and left it to rot.
With a start, I realized it was one of my own foalhood toys, the doll my father had made for me, so long ago.
I had completely forgotten about it.
A bit of fluff fell out from its arm and drifted down to the floor.
“I’VE HEARD ENOUGH!” It emanated, its voice cutting through the air like nothing. It sat up, seemingly growing even more massive before continuing. “ALREADY, THE EVIDENCE MADE BEFORE THIS COURT IS INCONTROVERTIBLE! THERE IS NO NEED FOR THE JURY TO RETIRE! I HAVE MADE MY OWN DECISION!”
In the slight pause that followed, everything seemed to grow closer. My mother, Rêves, Sir, the lawyer, the judge, all seemed nearer to me before, more criticizing.
My judge continued, “IN ALL MY YEARS OF JUDGING, I HAVE NEVER HEARD BEFORE OF SOMEONE MORE DESERVING OF THE FULL PENALTY OF LAW! THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR HOW YOU ACTED, THERE IS NO CASE YOU COULD MAKE FOR YOURSELF THAT COULD EVER PAINT YOU IN AN INNOCENT LIGHT!”
They all grew nearer, larger. The doll seemed to tower over me now, his menace and disappointment apparent. “THE WAY YOU MADE YOUR EXQUISITE WIFE, MOTHER, AND COUNTLESS OTHERS SUFFER SO, FILLS ME WITH THE URGE TO DEFECATE! I CAN BARELY HOLD BACK MY DISGUST AT THE HORROR OF THE SITUATION!”
The crowd erupted in laughter at this, one member even shouting, “Go on, judge! Shit on him!”
The crowd, my peers, my jury, my friends, my family encircled me now, staring down at me with displeasure. And yet, the judge’s shadow overtook them all, blanketing everything, turning the white brick wall a light black.
I was scared. Scared of what I had done.
I was crazy.
Over the rainbow, gone for good.
The judge’s voice was everywhere now, resounding. “SINCE, MY FRIEND, YOU HAVE REVEALED YOUR DEEPEST FEARS, WITH THE POWER VESTED IN ME, I SENTENCE YOU TO BE EXPOSED BEFORE YOUR PEERS! BEFORE EVERYONE! BEFORE EVERYTHING!”
He smiled.
“I SENTENCE YOU TO TEAR DOWN THE WALL AND REJOIN SOCIETY!”
There was silence for a moment and then, in the crowd, one figure shouted back, echoing his verdict.
“Tear down the wall!”
And more of the mob joined in.
“Tear down the wall!”
And more.
“Tear down the wall!”
And then, everyone was shouting the same four words.
“Tear down the wall!”
And still they drew in closer, they features growing ever more wild and intense.
“Tear down the wall!”
The judge repeated the words.
“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”
“Tear down the wall!”
Their voices swelled louder.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
I cowered from them, their incessant noise.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
Too much.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
So loud.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
So true.
With no warning, I began to lose sensation.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
I found myself out of my body. I was everywhere at once, and yet nowhere.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
I could see everything, the crowd, the judge, even myself, slumped against the wall like a discarded doll.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
And still, the chanting pervaded the air, filling me, filling everything.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
The final decree dawdled in every crevice of my nonexistent body and in the faces of everyone around me. The crowd, the judge, all seemed to find me and fix me with their gaze and the terrible repeated words.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
And the wall itself still loomed overhead, past the limits of imagination. As I gawped at it, I gathered a sense of protection from it, something strangely comforting. Like an old friend. This had been with me since foalhood, growing larger and more enveloping with each passing year.
It had protected me, yes, as any walls should. Was that that bad?
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
I was hesitant. I heard the order, but still felt unsure of my actions. I had heard the cases against me, but had everything I knew really been a lie? Was I so horrible?
I couldn’t find the strength.
Yet, they still urged me forward, driving into me the same line over and over.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
The judge flung his arms wide and screamed to the heavens, splitting the endless mantra for a brief respite, “LET’S REALLY SHOW HIM WHAT HE HAS DONE! PRESENT HIM WITH A DIFFERENT POINT OF VIEW!”
And still, the mantra of a verdict wormed its way into everything.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
And suddenly, I was no longer without form. I found myself firmly secure in a body once more, though it wasn’t mine.
I was a griffon, teaching at the front of a classroom. I smiled in satisfaction knowing that my actions were helping Equestria. But there were so many unruly foals. Wartime was no place for disobedience, but however much I tried, they ignore me.
My wife hates me, despises my existence. I come home every night to her, and I don’t see the hen I married so long ago. She hurts me, and I’m too weak to fight back. I hate her so much, but I can’t do anything about it.
I spend my mornings and afternoons finding solace in the bottom of a bottle, hoping to deaden this unmeasurable resignation and find a way to make it through the hours I spend at home.
But at the school, I reign supreme. The foals are uncontrollable and maddening, so I take the coward’s choice once again and lord over them. My anger builds up, I explode at them and beat them until they listen and behave. And it works, they listen. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes, violence is the only answer. That, and more alcohol.
These colts and fillies would understand that one day. They may resent me now, but they will understand when they get older. They would thank me. Their innocence wouldn’t last much longer anyway.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a young unicorn, so intent on making my way through the crowded train station that I never noticed the addled rock star until he walked right into me. He never apologized to me, a rather rude response to the situation, I thought. His friend, or whoever he was, apologized profusely for the pink pony’s actions and sent me on my way with a little extra money and a promise not to say anything to the papers.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a small filly. It was only my first week at the new school, and it had ended in disaster.
I stood outside, in the courtyard, along with the rest of the students. The entire school building was on fire, burning away into ashes. I wasn’t sure what had caused it, but I kept hearing conflicting whispers that it was either an accident in one of the science classrooms, or someone had set it intentionally.
Either way, the teachers had left. I think they went to go find some help. Only, in all the madness and confusion, they left all of us alone in front of the raging inferno.
Many of the foals already left, running home to their families, but many stayed behind, entranced by the fire and the freedom from school that would result from it.
Suddenly, one of the walls groaned loudly and gave way, collapsing. Many of the bricks scattered across the courtyard, in our direction. We all screamed and backed away, scared of getting hurt.
When it had settled, some pink colt, I didn’t know his name, picked up one of the fallen bricks and threw it back at the building, causing even more of it to collapse. As we all scattered again, many of us threw the colt an angry glare for his idiotic move.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was the leader of a gang—a small group, really—intent on harming as many of those low-life dirt ponies as possible. What had they done to help us? Pegasi and unicorns had won Equestria the war, not the bottom-feeding dirt ponies. They were nothing but scum, living off Equestria’s glories.
It has nothing to do with the fact the platoon I was in, comprised entirely of the idiot earth ponies, abandoned me and left me to die on the battlefield. Not at all.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a red unicorn that plays in an extremely popular band. It’s nice and all, but the lead singer, one of my closest friends, is killing himself. I can see him wither away as he continues to fill his body with drugs and alcohol and other fluids. I couldn’t tell you the last time he was fully sober.
I feel as if I should say something, but I don’t because I’m too timid, afraid of the repercussions. I owe so much to that pink stallion, and I can never predict his behavior.
I’m sure everything will pan out in the end.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a pink mare, watching my baby colt grow up. There was so much in the world that could hurt him. My husband died so suddenly in the damned war, and I didn’t want that for my boy, my sunshine. I had to protect him, make him as happy and secure as possible. Forever. I had too. I couldn’t lose him too.
So I kept him safe, drove away anything that would harm him, and gave him most everything he wanted.
And now he hates me for doing it, for smothering him, as he put it, but I know that everything will be okay in the end. I love him. Keeping him out of harm’s way is the only way to protect him. He’ll always be my baby boy.
He is my son, and nopony, not even that foreign filly he likes, will take him away from me.
He’ll see that sooner or later. I know.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a middle-class stallion, out for a pleasant dinner with my wife at a new restaurant in town. I had to make reservations months in advance just to get in, but it was all worth it for her.
We arrived in a carriage, and I was helping her step out, when some deranged pink stallion ran up and shoved us to the ground, laughing maniacally. He hit me, breaking what felt like a rib, before turning his attention to my wife. He ripped the dress off of her and twisted one of her legs into a position it should never go into.
I tried so hard to get up and stop him, but I was too weak. One onlooker tried to intervene, but the stallion stopped him, slamming him into the stone wall surrounding the restaurant and laying into him.
No one else helped.
But then, inexplicably, the pink stallion flashed a wide smile at me, and stopped, running away into the night, hooting loudly.
I wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but I knew that he was a crazy pony. Everyone knew what crazy ponies looked like.
I crawled over to my wife and cradled her whimpering, shocked form.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a student in class. Today, we were learning about the ancient history of Equestria, and I was very excited. I loved history.
Only, there was that pink colt, whatever his name was, causing trouble yet again at the back of the classroom. Our teacher had moved him back there at the end of class yesterday after he openly and very vocally refused to do his work for most of class. After arguing with him for several minutes, the teacher hit him a few times with a ruler and made him sit in the back.
Today, the colt was still disrupting class, talking loudly, and generally being annoying. I think the teacher tried to ignore him, as was I, but eventually, he snapped, hit the colt again and sent him out of the room.
And of course now, the teacher was so angry that we all suffered. If any of us so much as coughed, we were hit and given detention.
I hated days like this. I hated that pink colt.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a groupie watching in silent horror as my idol’s mask was cast away, revealing how destructive and violent the rock star had become, and the depths he had fallen to.
I could only hope to dodge the furniture and accessories he threw at me as he destroyed the hotel room in a blind rage.
This wasn’t the way this was supposed to go!
He had come to me, looking to feel better, and I went with hoping to fulfill that wish.
I ran, screaming, out of the room, the first moment I could, not once looking back.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was presiding over a funeral, one of the hundreds I have had to do in the past years since the war began. Today’s was no different. A grieving widow and a small colt who was too young to understand his father was never coming back.
I hoped he would grow up alright.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a white unicorn stallion that was knocking politely at a door. A mare opened it after a few moments, and her face fell when she saw my near identical partner and me, knowing what was to come next. It was a situation we had been in many a time before.
We talked for a minute, though mostly my associate, and then I produced a small box, and held it out to the mare. The middle-aged, pink mare took the box and suddenly crumpled to the floor as the implications hit her. Her husband’s personal effects fell with her and were quickly forgotten as I bent down to comfort the now grieving widow.
A voice, not my partner’s or the mare’s spoke up. I looked around and found myself face to face with a small pink foal. His innocent gray eyes watched me, as if unsure what to say. I backed away, almost tripping over his mother. Coward. I ran from the room, unable to face the music.
I left, leaving my partner to wrap things up and deliver the final papers. I was a coward. I was a coward. That’s why I begged to not serve in the war. I had requested and pleaded with my superiors not to send me to my death. So they gave me a partner and sent me door to door to serve an almost crueler task. The faces of the wives and children as I informed them of their spouse’s or father’s death would haunt me just as much as if I had killed the enemy. It was always the worst when they had foals.
I shouldn’t be a soldier. Equestria needs better stallions than me.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a green unicorn standing in front of a piano telling my husband that I was going out for a while. I whispered three simple words that conveyed so much adoration and so much concern to the almost comatose pink pony slouched over his piano. It was those three simple words that had formed so much between the two of us. They were words that created a relationship that later blossomed into a marriage. They were love.
But the pink stallion, my husband, didn’t respond. How long had it been since he had? When had he last shown any interest? Had it been days since he had last replied to those three words? Months? Even years? When did our relationship begin to decay? Was it my fault?
These days, my husband stumbled home from the studio, barely awake, smelling of whisky, drugs, and who knew what else, if he even came home at all. Most nights, I cried myself to sleep, distraught as I watched the stallion I loved slowly die in front of my eyes. I never understood why exactly he felt so compelled to destroy his body each day with drugs and alcohol.
Now he was to the point where he couldn’t even form coherent sentences half of the time.
Stifling a sob, I tightened my saddlebags and trotted from the room, glancing behind me as I went, hoping for any sign of life from the pink earth pony at the piano.
But there wasn’t.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a small unicorn foal, out an adventure with my two friends and some small earth pony. My daddy had lost his life in the war and I’m so, so angry, but I can’t show it. I can’t cry. I have to stand strong for mommy and my little brother. I have to be strong, like daddy was.
And this small, idiot pink earth pony stopped to smell some flowers. Why can’t I be that carefree? I hate him. He’s so naïve. I hate him for his innocence. I’m sure nothing bad has ever happened to him.
But, maybe we can wipe that grin off his face.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a mare attending a concert of one of my favorite rock musicians. I’ve been waiting for five hours just to get in the stadium to see him and he’s late. But it’s alright, because I know it’ll all be worth it.
After what seems like days, he stumbles onto stage, obviously drunk and drugged out. He half-heartedly sings three songs before he collapses on stage and the band tries to wake him, to no avail. They attempt to continue to play without him.
It’s not the same.
The concert is cancelled and I go home, bitter, and end up burning my poster of him, crying all the while.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a small colt walking with my father. I felt somepony watching me. I glanced up and locked eyes with a pink pony watching me from the window. Shivering, I immediately broke eye contact and clutched at my father’s hoof. He looked down at me, confused for a moment, but then he smiled at me. I grinned ear to ear and we continued to walk down the sidewalk, past the where the pink colt lived.
Things were great.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a tan pegasus, watching my best friend wither away over the years. Fame was taking its toll on him, and no matter what I said, he would never stop. He was in so much pain, I know, and he kept running from it, burying it with drink and mares.
I love him like a brother, but I can’t stand watching him destroy himself. He has to take a break. He has to get help. I don’t know how much longer his body can hold out.
One of these days, everything will fall to pieces.
One of these days, he’ll snap.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a manager, bursting into the penthouse suite of my hotel, only to find it destroyed by the rock star that was staying there. His manager assures me that he’ll pay for it, more or less.
I couldn’t believe the nerve of today’s celebrities, thinking they can get away with whatever they can. This will take time to fix. Time that I won’t be able to spend with my family.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a blue pegasus stallion going for a walk in the park. It was autumn and the park was crowded, but that didn’t bother me. I loved the smell of the trees and the fresh, open air.
But then, I heard crying and I turned to see a small, pink colt standing stock still in the middle of the crowd. He had lost his mother. Smiling at him, I scooped him up and wandered around, looking for a mare that looked worried.
Eventually, I found his mother, a pink mare like him. I handed him over and she thanked me. She looked at me strangely for a moment and the foal stared at me in quiet wonder. I turned and walked away, assuring them that it wasn’t a big deal.
I felt the mare’s eyes on me the whole time I walked away.
“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”
I was a blue pegasus stallion, patrolling the fields out by the gorge, keeping an eye out for an attack by the enemy. It was a cool, blustery evening, and nothing of interest had happened. I was getting tired, and wished that I would be relieved soon.
But then, I heard sobs echoing through the night. I searched for a while, before finding the source of the noise. Over the edge of the canyon was a small, pink colt lying halfway down the rock wall on a narrow ledge. I quickly flew down there and examined him.
He was beat up pretty badly.
I scooped him up and brought him back to the surface. I wrapped him in a spare rag and built a small fire, unsure what to do. His breathing was weak.
Eventually, he opened his eyes and we talked for a little bit, and, when my shift was over, I brought him back to his distraught mother.
I never did get his name, but he reminded me a bit of my boy. Same color coat and everything.
“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”
I was a blue pegasus stallion, guarding the streets, keeping a watch out for any trouble. The war may have been over, but there were still many a stallion who still had the urge to destroy and cause trouble. I was expecting a quiet evening, but that’s not what I got.
Soon enough, I heard screams from an alley up ahead, and I rushed over to find some stallions beating on a poor, pink earth pony. There were plenty of these gangs all across Equestria now, picking on anyone smaller just for fun.
I yelled at them, and managed to chase them away with a few choice spells. I should’ve pursued them, but the stallion they were attacking was in a world of hurt. After some effort, I managed to heave him onto my back and began to carry him to a hospital.
I recognized him as that famous musician, but I also felt as if I knew him from somewhere else, as if this situation was eerily familiar.
“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”
I was a blue pegasus stallion hurrying into a hotel in Canterlot as the sun fell below the horizon. One of my clients, a famous rock star, was unresponsive and comatose. His manager had called me down, after ensuring that I would keep quiet about anything that may happen.
I entered the penthouse suite to see the pink stallion slumped over in a chair, staring blankly at static on the television screen in front of him.
After talking with his manager, I went over to him, staring down at his motionless body. Muttering softly to him in the off chance he could hear, I inspected him, but could find nothing wrong, save for a few cuts and bruises.
It was as if his mind had gotten up and left.
I knew that I only had one thing that could snap him out of it. Feeling the manager’s impatient glare, I rushed from the room to go grab the necessary drugs from my carriage downstairs.
Though it wasn’t exactly legal, I was sure my special concoction would get him up and going faster than anything else. It wasn’t exactly legal, and could really mess him up, but I’m sure the side-effects wouldn’t be too bad.
“TEAR DOWN THE WALL!”
I was a blue pegasus stallion, slumped in a chair, the sounds of pain and agony coming from the doorway just beside me. There were deep bags under my eyes, and a few days’ worth of stubble on my face. Though the past months had been tough on everypony, I knew in a few moments they were going to be worth it.
Suddenly the shouts stopped, and a new, shriller one took its place. The sound of crying that only a newborn foal could produce. I breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, anxious to see my new child.
A white coated doctor peered out of the door and beckoned me inside. I walked in and, lying in the bed, was the most important mare in my life with the most important colt in my life in her hooves.
The pink mare was cradling the squirming, pink colt lovingly, stroking his head as he continued to cry. As I approached her, she glanced up and smiled at me, holding my son out.
Gingerly, I took him and his crying almost immediately ceased. The foal looked up at me with his large, gleaming, gray eyes and smiled for the first time.
The doctor came up behind me and nudged my shoulder, asking if we had decided on a name yet.
I glanced at my wife and then back at the doctor. I was a new father. I smiled and rocked my child back and forth. “Pinkerton,” I said, “Pinkerton.”
My son looked at me and smiled, his crying finally subsiding. Tear drops glistened on my glasses. “I love you, son.” I whispered.
“Tear down the wall!”
And as suddenly as that came, I was whisked away to the next. I flashed between everybody I had ever interacted with. Mare, foal, stallion, donkey, and even griffon. Their views set me awash in a wave of perception. Every life I touched, every pony I ever wronged. I was them all. All their feelings I was incapable to see at the time.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
And, in every stranger’s eyes, I saw myself for what I was.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
And I saw myself for what I could be.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a face in a crowd, going about my own business.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a filly, caught in a bombing.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a soldier, ready to die for his nation.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a waitress at a restaurant.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a protester.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a doctor.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a maid.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a teacher.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was an artist.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a nurse.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was the enemy.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a mare.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a stallion.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a filly.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a colt.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a pegasus.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a unicorn.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a griffon.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a donkey.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a leader.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a follower.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a fighter.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a lover.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a mother.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was a father.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was old.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was young.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was alive.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was dead.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was breathing.
“Tear down the wall!”
I was me.
“Tear down the wall!”
I am me.
“Tear down the wall!”
I am Pink.
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall!”
“Tear down the wall?”
“Tear down the wall?”
“Tear down the wall?”
“Tear down the wall?”
“Tear down the wall?”
“Tear down the—”
I opened my eyes.
Darkness surrounded me. I couldn’t see anything, and the oppressive sound of silence hung in the air, enveloping me. It hurt my ears just to be around, though a far cry from the chanting of earlier.
I stood with some difficulty and tried to peer through the gloom, but could see nothing but the silence that stretched out forever and ever.
After a moment of absolute nothingness, I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak. In an instant, the darkness receded, revealing the crowd all around me. All eyes were on me. The crowd of judges. My jury. My prosecutors. My family. My friends. My life.
With a start, I realized I didn't blame them anymore. I didn't blame me anymore. None of my fears and grudges weighed down on me any longer. I felt an innocence I knew I had never felt at any time in my life.
I smiled.
It was a matter of choice, life. Walls are unavoidable in society. Everybody has things to hide, to bury deep inside. We all tend to blame everyone and everything else for our misfortunes, and dig deeper, never realizing that, to grow, we have to own up for our own mistakes.
But, even more, not only do we have to accept our own responsibility, we have to accept the faults and actions of others as they inevitably lash out and blame others too. No one is perfect. We have to push past the barriers that separate us, truly connect, and maybe only then live happy lives.
The ones who really, truly love and care for you will walk up and down outside your wall, trying so very hard to break through. And then, when they’ve given you their all, some stagger and fall, because, after all, it’s not easy banging your heart up against some another’s wall. It is only through the struggles of life that you will ever claw your way out and things will have a chance to get better.
And things will get better, but never perfect. You will grow, and none of your pain will ever fully go away, but you will get bigger, and make that pain a smaller part of yourself. Cracks and flaws may begin to heal and smooth over, but they are ultimately still there. And that’s okay, because, with other’s support, everything will find a way.
But there always will be walls, and you should never tear one down without understanding why it was first put up. As much as they keep out the sadness, pain, and injustices of life, they also keep out the joy.
I realize that now.
I was crazy before. I finally realized the depths I sunk to in the shadow of my own wall. It consumed my mind, stripping it of sanity. I had lost my marbles, one by one.
But now I’ve found them, gathered them all back up and put them in a bag that’s somewhere inside me. I can see the light through the gaps in the bricks, see what I’ve done. I’ve found the start of my problems, the door from which I entered, and now I could work on repairing the damage I had caused.
My crime wasn’t an offensive, singular moment of emotion, of connection, of selflessness, but a lifetime devoid of it. I was the cause of my own problems, my own pain. At a young age, I built my wall to protect myself and grew up not knowing anything was wrong. And I kept adding to it, until it made me into the very sort of thing that I had wanted protection from.
I had terrorized, upset, and persecuted the poor people at my concert. I had ignored and abandoned my friends and family. I had hurt everyone around me and hated them because I thought they were the ones hurting me.
But that was all going to change.
I would be a better pony. A better husband. A better son. A better friend.
So, I sat there, in thought, a smile still gracing my lips. A smile born of true happiness. A smile of love. A smile of freedom.
With that grin set on my face, I looked each member of the crowd in the eyes, feeling no remorse. No sadness. It was just me and them. No more walls. No more masks. No more pain. Just me and you.
And they all watched me back, apprehensive at first, but then with enthusiasm. I greeted them all. Everybody I’ve ever known. Everybody was there. All of my bricks. Every moment. Every second of my life.
I walked through them, and their whispers reached me, fleeting in and out, barely indistinguishable. There was so much encouragement, so much love, so much bliss, in their words, that I could hardly walk straight.
But I managed, with some assistance. The crowd parted around me, some helping me as I went, the whispers of support growing ever larger and merging together in a harmony of beautiful voices and sounds. It spoke as everyone, as everything.
And the longer I heard it, the more it seemed to be asking a question. A question which, not long ago had been an order.
Tear down the wall?
I reached the edge of the crowd and before me was an endless white, brick wall. My wall. It stretched infinitely into the sky, disappearing into mist.
The last pony in the mob was a bespectacled, blue stallion. He smiled at me as I passed and dipped his head in greeting, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I could sense enough. Words weren't necessary.
My father radiated pride, and I knew he loved me as much as physically possible. I could feel his respect and admiration. I could feel him encouraging me to continue, in the last legs.
And then I passed him, and the crowd and their endless wonder fell away.
I silently thanked my father and everyone else, and walked closer to my wall, greeting it like an old friend, which, of course, it was. It had been with me my entire life. Covering me. Protecting me. Killing me. Smothering me.
A single thought entered my mind as I looked at the monstrosity. I pondered it, rolling it around for a moment.
Should I?
Should I tear it down?
I knew the answer was yes. I think I knew it for a long time, but was too afraid to realize it. Too afraid of how the outside world would treat me without any sort of protection.
I was still afraid, I think. Who wouldn’t be? Life was unpredictable, and that is scary. But now, I’ve embraced that fear, internalized it. Sometimes, bad things happen, but you can’t let them defeat you. As long as you keep living and moving forward, nothing could stop you.
But I was ready now. I had spent too long locked away behind a mask.
I felt a presence walk up beside me, and I turned to see a gray stallion with vibrant pink eyes. We looked at each other and without so much as a word between us, he agreed as well.
Gray and pink.
Pink and gray.
My shattered, polarizing, drug-addled psyche needed to be whole once more.
We smiled and we embraced.
And we spoke my decision aloud. And when we did, we spoke it in only one voice. My voice.
We were finally one again.
I was finally one again.
The thunderous reproach of a million tear-stained eyes collapsed around me as I set out to destroy what I created so long ago.
I breathed out.
“Tear down the wall.”