//------------------------------//
// There Is No Point 
// Story: Getting Home 
// by DBP12012 
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"You're in no condition to travel any time soon, I'm afraid," she told me. She went on, her surprising knowledge of humans astounding me. I'd only wished her examination room wasn't so...cramped. With me, my mom, and her all standing in there; we barely had enough to breathe. "For starters, you haven't been properly eating or sleeping, your body is bruised and weak, and you suffer from anorexia and depression. It might be months before we can at least get you in enough rehab to even begin traveling."

My spine bent over as I gritted my teeth. I wanted to scream again, but my throat ached too much. Mom laid a hand on my shoulder. She could almost see the smoke rising. Best put out the fire now, instead of later. I couldn't lash out against the pony, obviously. She didn't look the part; but Mom, despite her fragility even now, had a skill for mediating chaos...whether by kind suggestions, passive-aggression, or flat-out violence. Yet, as I looked into her eyes, I knew she couldn't say a thing. The will to fight had left her eyes. A sharp pain struck me in the jaw, one I remember. I could feel it in her touch, my tense shoulders, and the pony shifting from side-to-side in front of me. It had been there since my father had first left, choosing to strike when the wrath of hell boiled deep in my soul.  A daunting silence hung in the air, threatening anyone- or, pony, I suppose -who dare break it. Finally, the nurse spoke. The silence broke, leaving an echo to remind us that it would make its return.

"I-I don't have any medication I could prescribe; I'm not quite sure how your body would react to it." Her teeth chattered as she spoke, a lump in her throat almost audiblely noticeable in her words. The fingers laid on my shoulder tightened. The fire had left Mom's body altogether. Tears fell from her eyes, soon after her body followed the salty rivulets' lead. I couldn't move, I couldn't reach down and help her. There wouldn't be a point, not to this, not to anything. She'd only fall again, and again. Nothing I could do would stop it. My body lacked any sort of strength, and my mind was even weaker. Of course, the nurse rushed over, instantly forcing all of her efforts into a pointless pursuit. 

I used to think dying was the worst possible fate anyone could ever come across. But now, sitting in this clinic, I know it isn't. This reality fought its way into my eyes the second I saw her collapsed on the floor. Weak, in pain, and completely worthless as I sit here, pondering whether to help the only thing I have left in the world. The worst possible fate is the painful reality of living in a world where everything you do could never help anything. Yet, you still try, forcing yourself through the pain and adversity. It never does anything. Still, leaving the only person in the world alone is something you could never do. This...this is my kismet, to live in a world where I am powerless to do anything, yet I am still held back here by the only one I care for. As I sat there, wallowing in cruel fates, my childish tears trickled down my face once more. 

Though the nurse had tried, she'd failed. Mom twitched as she lay curled up into a ball, tears staining her eyes. He forced her eyes shut. I could tell she'd felt it, the same thing as me. The feeling of your stomach curling up and nearly killing you. She gripped the shriveled skin covering her stomach, then tightened her ball-like form. Her lips sealed themselves, yet I could see the words behind them. Her posture, her tears, her body language, they all screamed at me. They told me she wanted to die, more than even wanting to go home. I knew that feeling, much more than she did.





"Stephanie, stop crying."

"H-How...how can I...? You left us...to die!"

"No, no! I tried to save you..."

"Who the hell are you trying to fool?! If you really wanted to save us, you shouldn't have run away...you...bastard! Look at what...what they did, you coward!"

"I-I can see..."

"So how can you say you tried to save us!?" 

"I-I...I don't know..."





My tears halted, as voices and screams lingered in my mind. I knew Mom had seen harder times than me. My heart refused to believe this, the pain in my jaw nearly numbing my body. Nothing new, though, I often had traumatic moments come back to haunt me when I feel like dying the most. As these memories drifted through my mind, I could feel something. Almost as if...Mom...she had the same memory as me. I cried out to her, "I know what it feels like, Mom. B-But...you need to get up!" She gazed up at me, her eyelids shuddering. "I want to be better for you than Dad. I won't be a cowardly bastard like him," I swore to her. She let her hand slide off of her stomach and lay on the floor. I could see her try and push up on it. My body slid off the examination table, collapsing on top of her once more. 

"Y-You...remember?" she whispered, her raspy voice just barely reaching my ears. I nodded, thrusting my hand out in front of her. "Oh, Tristan, I'd prayed night after night for you to forget..." she clasped my hand weakly. I could feel every bone in her small hand. She struggled to bring herself up, and once she did, she fell into my chest. "But now, I couldn't be happier you didn't." 

I hugged her tightly, my jaw finally starting to relax. "You pushed me as far as I could go, so now it's my turn to return the favor," I told her. I meant every word I said, yet, I still wanted to die. I wanted to shrivel up alone...but I couldn't, not with me being her only hope. I buried my head into hers. "I'm...sorry I couldn't do better for you."

She finally smiled. I could feel her lips curl themselves against my neck. "Your best will always be enough for me," she whispered. Her words felt so forced; I wondered if it hurt her to speak. "You're my reason to keep living, Tristan. I hope...my best will be enough for you to keep living with me, no matter how depressed we get." 

I gripped her tighter. Her special little ability had taken me off guard once more, even when I had expected her to. "I'll do anything in the world for you, Mom, no matter how painful it gets to keep living." She squeaked at my words, lowering her head deeper into my chest. She brought her arms off my back and laid them on my chest. The longer we stood there, the more she started to grab my shirt, soon enough, tears rolled down her cheeks as she clung to my chest. I glanced over at the nurse. Her eyes were misty as well, her lips trembling. She galloped at us. She stood on her hind hooves, and wrapped her fore hooves around us.

"I-I'll go with you!" she yelled. "I may not be able to give you medicine...but I'll do my best to help you two get home. If you can't get home...I'll...I'll..." 

Mom let go of my shirt. She rubbed the white pony's mane, smiling at her as well. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'd hate to drag you into this, though."

"N-No! Don't worry about that. I hope I can help you, so long as you accept my offer," she replied. Mom smiled, patting her head. She squatted down, staring the pony straight in her eyes. She nodded earnestly. "Really? Thank you, erm... What would you like to refer to as?" 

"Stephanie," she said. "You?"

"Redheart," she answered.