Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening rain. Those who were outside then in Manehattan were constantly on the look-out for signs that the impending downpour would soon be upon them. They all carried umbrellas and raincoats, trash bags to put over their briefcases and important document holders.
Some just walked along unabashedly. They didn’t care about the rain, when it came or how hard it was going to fall. Those types of ponies were unashamed to proclaim, “I take things as they come! Nothing can faze me!” To them, in the end, life was as unpredictable and wild as the storms themselves, so nothing about it could really be done at all.
To a pony, though, all of them shared one very common characteristic: none of them paid attention to the pony sitting underneath the bus stop. She wasn’t saying a word, just staring off into the distance with a vaguely disinterested look about her. If anypony had tried to say anything to her, she would have simply pretended they weren’t there at all, until they finally gave up their futile acts and went away.
That was all she wanted, was for everypony to just go away. Either that, or she wanted everypony to stay and for her to go away. That would have been just fine with her too.
A clap of thunder cracked the skies, someplace far off into the distance. It was an unexpected noise, though, and some ponies gave a start at the sound of it. A foal began to cry, and her mother shushed her expectantly, trying to comfort her squealing child. Not too long afterwards, she was successful, and they hurried along their way.
That was something that she never understood, she mused to herself as she stared out onto the streets. Why is everypony always in such a hurry? True, they all must have places to go; otherwise, they wouldn’t be out and about to begin with. But why must they all go so quickly? Don’t they know that life is to be appreciated, taken slowly like the first sip of a cold glass of tea on a hot summer’s day?
The first drop of rain fell from the sky as she was pondering this, and it took the little droplet a few minutes to complete the journey from sky to ground, fulfilling its one true purpose as it plummeted downward with abandon. A partner of its fell alongside it, but a breeze- ever so slight- blew it somewhat off course.
That first drop hit with a soft plink on the tin roof of the bus stop, and it echoed sharply in her ears. That much, she heard. It’s almost here… So the weatherponies were right this time. Usually they predict rain, and then nothing ever comes out of it… The other droplet, having been blown slightly off to the left, landed on the forehead of an important business-pony that was just exiting a cab. He cursed under his breath, maligning the impending weather pattern that was upon them.
She heard all of this, and she sneered inwardly. As though you could actually change what is to come… You have no more power over the weather than I. True, some do. That’s what the weather ponies are for. Rainbow Dash and all of them. But me? Just a humble unicorn? No, I am to have nothing to do with this facet of existence, and neither are you. Just accept it and move on.
In fact, it would be good for you to accept a rather universal truth: there are quite a few things in life that are going to happen, regardless of what you try to do to stop them. If you just accept that, and just let things happen rather than trying to fight against a current that is stronger and older than you could ever imagine… Then maybe your life could be a bit easier, and a bit less stressful. But you would never think of that, would you?
Presently, she chanced a glance at the sidewalks around her, where ponies of all shapes and sizes, all looks and backgrounds, were gathering on common ground. Some were talking, some were checking watches or schedules, and others- she smiled the tiniest bit when she noticed this- were just like her: completely and totally unwilling to give anypony else the satisfaction of having been noticed by them. So I am not the only one like this. Good. Equestria needs more ponies like me. We are what the world should aspire to be.
Slowly, the frequency of the rain increased, at first to a sheen of mist clouding the streets in its semi-reflective transparency. In a few minutes, there was actual rain falling, padding softly against the ground, forming puddles that grew ever larger with each passing moment. The rhythmic pattern of the drops that were hitting the roof of the bus stop were now reaching a pure and constant ululation, clouding out some of the more insistent noises from outside her sanctuary.
She kept her forward-facing motion, though. Every once in a while, she would look around and take in a bit more of what was around her, which new ponies had come onto the scene since she had last looked. But for the most part, she kept her attention on what was directly in front of her, as though there was some far-off world that she was gazing upon, one that only she could see, invisible to all of those other ponies who were too busy going about their everyday lives and worrying about only themselves to actually see what was very plain to see around them.
Soon thereafter, the rain began to reach a fever pitch. The drops were falling hard and fast all around the bus stop, and the few ponies that were out and about were all running for cover. She smirked at this unironically. Why did they tarry? They knew this was going to happen. It’s like even in only thinking about themselves, they forget to do even that…
Some of the raindrops flicked off the sides of the bus stop and came to rest on various places on her coat: some on her flank, others on her eyelashes or muzzle. She blinked every few seconds, but she never made any attempt to shake the water off of her, nor did she attempt to seek any kind of shelter from the storm. She just sat there, staring.
Eventually, the flow of traffic ground to a halt. Apparently, not even those who were driving the cabs and carriages wanted to ferry those around who had no shelter from the driving rain. She was alone, for the first time since she had sat down at that bus stop almost six hours previous.
And speaking of, why hasn’t one of the buses come by? Not that I’d actually try to get on it or anything, but it’s just odd to me… Maybe they aren’t running today. No, it’s not any kind of major holiday or anything. It’s weird, is all.
Presently, she became aware of a pair of eyes upon her. She glanced around her, but nopony was on ground level. She deduced then that she was being watched by somepony from up in one of the surrounding buildings. She moved her eyes slowly now; she wanted to know what was going on.
In a few moments, her eyes settled upon a likely target. Across the street from the bus stop was a coffee shop of sorts, one that had those big plush chairs that she had once loved sitting in for hours on end, chatting with the ponies she had at one point called her friends. In one of those chairs sat a beautiful mare, with a grey coat and an off-color blonde mane. She had an askance look about her eyes, but she could tell the mare’s attention was definitely focused on her. A look of pity was in those eyes, but she made no attempt to leave the confines of the cafe to come outside and check on her.
She looks so familiar… she mused. Where have I seen her before? The rain on the bus stop roof was pounding out a hollow beat now, one so loud that she could barely even hear herself think. Maybe I knew her in a previous life… One where I was actually normal, instead of being driven out, cast aside like I am here…
She looked around again, as the rain began to slack off slightly. Nopony was yet out and about in the streets, though she knew that wasn’t going to last for very long. They would come out again in their own time, after the brunt of the storm had passed.
A peal of thunder sounded its report; it had a deafening roar to it, as though some foreign god was displeased about something, and it wanted to make its displeasure known to all of those who were under the rule of his invisible hand. It startled her, and she shifted slightly as she jumped. Her heart was beating faster now, and she tried to make a conscious effort to calm it down. It’s just thunder… she told herself. Nothing to actually harm you… Unlike most of the other dangers of the world.
As her heart-rate began to normalize yet again, an image came unbidden into her mind. It was of her as a young filly, one night during a storm much like the one that she now found herself in. Back then, though, a storm of this magnitude was one of the scariest things in the world to her, and she had found herself rushing headlong into her mother’s room, burrowing deeply into the covers on her bed. She was shaking from fear.
“What’s wrong, dear?” her mother had asked, pulling her in close to her body so she could feel her mother’s comforting warmth. Slowly but surely, she could feel her daughter relax, as she rediscovered the peace and comfort that came from the stability of her mother’s touch.
“The storm…” she eventually whispered, barely audible. “It’s scary…” Another peal of thunder sounded outside, and she whimpered softly, burrowing in closer to her mother’s touch.
Her mother had simply smiled; she remembered back to her own days as a filly, and how storms used to affect her the same way. So, she cradled her young daughter close to her, and began to sing a song that had comforted her during her own times of fear. The words came as naturally to her as any others, even though she hadn’t sang that song in a very long time, nor had she had them sung to her.
“Hold to the love that you know… You don’t have to move on to let go… Remember how I walked with you… Remember how you pulled me through…”
The memory ended as quickly as it had come, unbidden like many other thoughts that had crossed her mind. She could feel tears coming now. She hadn’t cried in so long, she thought she would never cry again. More accurately, she had hoped that she would never cry again. It had gotten old very quickly: the tears, the pain, the feeling of complete and utter helplessness as she came to the determination that she was an imperfect and flawed being, and she would never be anything else but that.
“I remember…” she whispered softly to herself, both as a tribute (however inadequate, she felt) to her mother’s legacy, and also as a way of finishing the song that had come to her mind in the memory. That was the last line, she remembered, and the most powerful one out of all of them. Remembrance, she recalled her mother telling her, was the most powerful weapon one had against the feelings of helplessness that came like tidal waves when they were least expected or wanted. If only one could recall the happiest of times that they had, those memories could be used to keep the demons at bay.
And deep down inside, that’s what she wanted. She wanted her demons to go away, not just for a moment, but forever. And so, she did what her mother wanted her to do.
She remembered.
She remembered coming home one day and seeing her brother standing at the front door, with a wide grin on his face. She hadn’t seen her brother in such a long time, since he had gone off to serve his country in Celestia’s army. Just the sight of him sent her squealing with joy, running headlong into his outstretched hooves. He had held her close to him, whispering reassuring words into her ears: he was okay, he was just fine, he wasn’t going to leave anymore. She would have her older brother forever.
Of course, the exact opposite had turned out to be the case. He grew ill shortly thereafter, and in spite of all the doctors’ help and guidance for him, he never recovered. He passed a few months later, and the entire family had been devastated at his loss. It was a memory that she didn’t want to bring up, and so she simply didn’t. She just remembered something different.
She remembered the day that she got her cutie mark. It seemed like any kind of average day, with one major exception: the school talent show was that night. She already had her act planned out exactly how she wanted it: she would be performing a musical ensemble based on a piece that her mother had written shortly after she had received her own cutie mark. Music ran in her family, and she was just glad that she had gotten her mother’s talent in that area.
In fact, as she sat down to play that piece on the most exquisite lyre that many of them had ever seen, she reminded herself that literally every single piece of this puzzle was all made possible because of her mother. The piece had been written by her, the talent had been passed down by her, she had even its name as her namesake… Even the lyre itself had once belonged to her mother. It had gone on to her once her mother had passed on, but that was for another day’s remembrance.
She had played beautifully that night, incorporating both hoof movements and magic into her performance. And once she had ended, the crowd exploded in admiration, cheering as loudly as she could. She just stood there, stunned into silence, the happiest tears ever flowing down her face. She could sense a bright light coming from beside her, and once she had looked down to see what it was, she saw her cutie mark on her flank: the very same lyre that she had used, and dedicated that supreme performance to the memory of her mother.
She cried softly there, as the rain ground to a halt, and she remembered. She thought about the first time that she ever met the pony that she knew that she would spend the rest of her life with. She was in a candy store, and when she got up to the front of the line, she saw her standing behind the register, taking everypony’s orders. She was the most beautiful mare she’d ever seen, and it took all she had just to talk to her.
She found out that her name was Sweetie Drops, but everypony just called her Bon Bon as an affectionate nickname. The pair soon found themselves spending every moment that they could together, and shortly thereafter they became an official couple. They were afraid as to what the other ponies would think about them being together, with them being the same gender at all. It soon proved that they had no need to worry, though; they were accepted by their peers, just as they had always been.
Her voice echoed in her mind, and she could swear that she could hear it not just in her mind, but in the actual, physical world: “Lyra? Lyra, is that you? Lyra…!”
Suddenly, she was shocked out of her reverie by the sensation of a very wet pony throwing her forelegs around her in a crushing hug. She felt a wet mane flap up and hit her softly on her own mane, and a soft (albeit soaking wet) face pressing itself closely against hers.
“By Celestia…!” Bon Bon exclaimed, “Lyra, we’ve all been so worried about you! Why did you just run off like that, without telling anypony where you were going…”
Lyra sighed. “I just… Needed some time away from everypony. You know me, I get like that sometimes. The whole world just gets too… Unbearable.”
Bon Bon sighed. “Yes, I know, but… At least normally you leave a note or something. This time, nothing! We all had no idea what had happened to you…!” She let out an involuntary sob as she spoke those last words, and she tightened her grip around Lyra’s neck, as though she was saying that she would never let go of her, not for any reason. And in her own way, that is exactly what she was saying.
Lyra laid her head against her partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry I worried all of you. But I’m here now, and I’m ok. So let’s just head back home, alright?” Bon Bon nodded through her tears, and she leaned in for a brief kiss. Lyra matched the gesture, and the two were reunited in their hearts once again.
Presently, they left, leaving the bus stop and all of those memories behind. In the coffee shop across the street, the same grey pony stared out and smiled. She could tell a little bit of what had transpired there; she had seen the whole thing. Bon Bon had such great courage to come all the way out there, just to find her lost love. And if Lyra could have the courage to face her demons…
Then why couldn’t she?