//------------------------------//
// [Old] Prologue 
// Story: Ours 
// by Deathscar 
//------------------------------//

“Honey! Come on, get up, it’s time for dinner!”

Palette rose from her bed, her hooves going up to her eyes to wipe the dirt from them. She swung to her left and hopped off, landing on the carpeted floor with a muffled ‘thud’. Giving her hooves a light stretch, she groaned, her ears picking up the soft sizzle of the stove just outside. With a deep sniff, her nose caught the aroma of something delicious, it didn’t even take a second for her to know what was being cooked.

Pancakes. Palette reached to her right, grabbing a small cane and lightly tapping it around as she trotted forward. Once she felt the smooth wooden frame of her doorway, she moved past it, the smell and sound amplifying immediately as she did so.

“Morning, Palette! Had a good sleep?” a voice chirped a small distance away. Palette lightly tapped the cane, finally feeling the chair she had been searching for and sitting herself down.

“I slept fine. Nothing different, as usual,” Palette replied with a shrug, setting her hooves on the table in front of her.

“It’s a great day today! Birds are chirping, winds are cooling the sun. Ponyville’s never looked so beautiful.” 

Palette’s ears twitched when the sound of sizzling ceased, though the smell continued to linger in the air, even intensifying as she heard something get pushed towards her, hitting her hooves slightly. 

“Fork is over here.” She felt somepony lift her left hoof to the metal utensil sitting on the table. “And knife is here.” The same pony repeated the process with her right hoof, setting it atop the other silverware. 

“Thanks, mom.”

“No problem, dear.” Palette felt a kiss on her forehead, having already imagined the wide smile on her mother’s face. “Now, I’ll be off to work. You’ll be okay till night?”

Palette gave a tired sigh, lifting the tableware to her breakfast and starting to cut into it. “Always have been…”

“Good.” Feeling one more kiss to her forehead, she heard the front door swing open. “As usual, you can go out but don’t stray—”

“Too far. I know, mom. I know.” Palette lifted the fork to her mouth, biting into the fresh and spongy meal.

“I love you, Palette!” 

“Love you too, Mom!” And with that, Palette heard the door close shut. She reached over a little forward, feeling the cylindrical shape of the cup before lifting it to her mouth, sipping the freshly squeezed orange juice. 

Beautiful day, huh? Her thoughts raced in her mind as she inserted another piece past her lips. What will change? With a heavy sigh, she picked up the glass once more. Everyday the same routine. She pressed the glass to her muzzle, drinking the remaining juice. Then a trip to the park. Who knows? Maybe today will be different. 

Palette continued eating and drinking until the plate and glass was clean. After setting down the dishes in the sink, she slowly stumbled her way back to her room, picking up her sling bag and tossing it over her shoulder. She slowly shuffled towards the door, placing her hoof on the knob before turning it and pulling the door open. A thought raced through her mind before she closed the door behind her.


But I doubt it.