//------------------------------// // You Are My Hope // Story: Getting Home // by DBP12012 //------------------------------// "Well, that's that. Where's the rehab center, again?" To be honest, it was nice to see the sun again. It took a while, but the beams shining down on my pale skin always seemed to wake me up. Not just my mind, but my whole body... My skin, my bones.... I could feel warmth everywhere. Hope rekindled itself in me, in my mother, and now in this nurse who vowed to help us. Though, even with the sun, I could feel a darkness shrouding my soul. It felt like a demon had chained my very being, my reason for living... I'd forgotten what it meant to live. Even though my life back home wasn't perfect, it still felt better than this. I couldn't tell if the warmth I felt was false, like the overwhelming fake happiness met. I had to keep it in, or the farce would cloud my better judgement. The world isn't all sunshine and rainbows, despite what these residents may think. Reality is cruel, yet I see these...creatures, totally ignorant. Ignorance is truly bliss, as they say. "In Canterlot, I'm afraid. It'll be hard to catch a train this time of day, so it'd be best to wait until tomorrow morning." I glanced over at Redheart. Pink strands of her mane started tumbling out of her nurse's cap as she turned and faced the slight breeze. I glanced around, squinting due to the sunlight. I saw a few stores, though none of them had names on their signs. How odd. Then again, being trapped in a world of magical talking ponies is odd on several more levels than stores without names. "Hmph. Where can we go to eat, again?" I asked. Mom looked nearly as weary as I, and soon enough she toppled over and had to use me as a support to walk. We grunted in unison, as I nearly fell over myself. If it weren't for Redheart jumping in to support us both when she did, we both would've collapsed. "Th-Thanks," I choked, "but we really need to eat something. Fast." "Ah...um... What even do you humans eat, anyway?" Redheart asked in response. I gritted my teeth again. My fist may have collided with her face, had I not been so weak. "I don't care right now! We'll eat anything!" I barked. Redheart nodded quickly, clearly startled by my throaty growl. No doubt those anger-management classes back on earth weren't doing me any good. I still felt confused and depressed, with a boiling rage like a volcano settling within me. Still, the outburst didn't stop her from leading us to the nearest restaurant. I never could understand how she knew which was a flower shop and which was an eatery; the signs looked identical to me. We stumbled together, me and mom, slowly making our way through a crowd of...ponies. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and every color in between flashed by me in form of a pony. Each sported a different tramp stamp- or, cutie mark, as told by Redheart -supposedly showing off what made them 'special'. The saccharinity of the world wanted to make me vomit, but sadly only bile would come up. Although, vomiting wouldn't be the best idea in my condition. I held in my inner disgust as we weaved through the mostly female-dominant crowd. I tried to shield my eyes from them, but I still could catch a few gawking at me. A few apparent mothers had the gall to tug their children out of sight, while some males ignored me or snickered with their friends. "I'm sorry, I know it must be awkward," Redheart called back to me as she continued to push through thr crowd. I bent over a bit, trying to concentrate. My thoughts and real noise had intermingled themselves. 'How the hell would you know? You don't know me, or my mother, and you're a...a pony. How could you possibly know how it feels to be stared down wherever you go, because you're some lanky giant lumbering through a child's fantasy book? I can answer that: you wouldn't. You're just saying that. I get that you don't know what to say. Just, next time, don't say anything at all. Because, while I understand where you're coming from, you haven't spent the past few years starved, alone, and in a damp, cramped room with no hope of anything. No hope. I didn't know it was possible for me to even be here, and I'm betting vice versa. So, since this hasn't happened before I'm pretty damn sure I won't be going home. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. You don't know what it's like to live in complete and utter hopelessness. You, only out of pity and not true understanding, decided to tag along on a pointless pursuit.' I wanted to yell. I wanted to push all the miniature horses out of my way. I wanted to cry my youthful tears whilst I shriveled up and died. No, no, I'd tell myself. Death is not the worst possible fate, again, and again. I wanted... I wanted punishment, I suppose. It was my fault this had happened, it was always my fault. Don't kill yourself, not just yet, I'd think. Live a little longer, just a little, I'd tell myself. It's worse here. You wanted punishment? You got punishment. Can you not deal with it, you weak coward? Can you not keep your promise? The relentless sun I began to despise as we walked further and further. Surely, the nearest restaurant wasn't this far away. No, but it was, it was indeed. Such is my luck, that I'd be locked in that cage furthest away from food. Though, at this point, I still wonder if food is the most of my worries. While I drown myself in my own pitiful sorrows, my mother never says a word. She walks, her head held high as she can keep it. She doesn't complain, she doesn't give up. How, how.... How does she keep going when there's absolutely no hope left? Does she truly believe we can get home...? No, she doesn't. I can see it in her eyes, the wavering again. True, her façade is convincing, but I know her well enough to say she doesn't think there's any way we can return. I don't know why she'd even want to return. Nothing was left for her in the old world, and nothing is left for her in this world. Same goes for me, yet, we still walk to the restaurant. Soon, we'll go to the rehab center and try to make our way back home. But why? What is the point of it all, when nothing is left? How...how does she do it? "You are my hope." "I can't even be my own hope. How can I be yours?" "You'd be surprised." "Try me." "Somewhere along the road, when I thought all hope was lost, something occurred to me. Though my own life might not matter to me, it matters to others. So, I decided to fight myself. It's...the only way I could stand. I'd wake up every day, battling my own selfish desires to die and keep living, because I knew there were people out there who would die without me. People whom I loved, whom I'd hate to see kill themselves because of me. I couldn't leave them...not just yet. One more day, I'd say. Just one more. So I lived like that." I stopped in the middle of the road. How could I have forgotten her words? How could I have forgotten that I was her reason to live? When, when had I heard this? When... It...it was t-then... The day after... "D-Damn it..." I could hear gasping, almost choking, and stifled short breaths. I could smell it again, the intermingling of blood and tears. I knew the feeling myself, the salt pouring into your exposed shame. I gripped my wrist as my ear leaned against the wall. Something's...off. Different, I suppose, about this time. Something, what is it? I'd known for the longest time she'd... My grip on my wrist tightened. She wouldn't...? No, she's...she is. I could feel it. I could feel the presence of...a...of a gun. "C-Calm down, Stephanie...It'll be over soon..." No... "M-Mom! Stop!" I had rushed in without even thinking about it. There she stood, hands and arms shaking as she gripped the pistol. Her wrists had slits over them, throbbing and red from the salt of her tears. She squeezed her eyes shut, hiding herself from me. She dropped the gun almost instantaneously and then, following the gun's lead, dropped herself at my feet. "D-Don't look, please, Trissy," she gasped. "I'm...I'm so-" "-ashamed I found you like this." I pulled her up, much rougher than I'd intended. She shuttered under my grasp, then brought one of her hands to cover her mouth. Rivulets streamed down her cheeks. She hung her head, coughing and sputtering. I took my index finger and lifted her head up. I took my thumbs and wiped her eyes. And then...then I did something I wouldn't do for another three or so years. I cried. I gripped her closer than I ever had. I sputtered a bit myself in her ear. I loved her, no doubt. I... I just had never realized how much. I knew she was depressed and maybe even suicidal, but it hadn't bothered me. What a heartless, soulless fool I'd been. I didn't know what I had until I saw it break down in front of me, and nearly have it slip through my fingers. "Don't go, please." "I...I won't make promises I can't keep, Trissy." "Then make one you can keep." Mom tugged at my ratted shirt. "Trissy..." she rasped, "you look worried." I turned to her. Genuine concern. She looked up at me with almost pure innocence. "Tell me, what's bothering you?" "Nothing...nothing of your concern," I grumbled. Mom turned her eyes away from mine, as she wiped her hand down my shirt. She let out a low whistle. "Oh." Damn, I'd hurt her feelings. "I-I see." Tristan, you idiot. She's all you have left. I'm all she has left. "I mean, thanks for noticing... But, really, you shouldn't care about me," I muttered. Her pale blue eyes smiled at me, followed by her dry lips. They cracked a bit as the grin inched across her face. Redheart spun around, presenting the restaurant rather loudly. She almost immediately silenced herself, biting her lip as she saw us clinging from one another. "U-Um...ahem..." Redheart coughed. "We're here." I nodded, then propped up Mom with my right arm. We staggered to the front of the building together, following closely behind the nurse. Mom looked up at me, her eyes not smiling anymore. "You remembered, didn't you?" I gulped. "Yes," I hesitated. I knew what would come next, she would break down and yell at me for all those things I did to her. No, my thoughts were shattered when she turned to me, with a look in here eyes I had remembered all too well. She stared at me for a while before completely collapsing on top of me. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears beginning to stream down her face. "I've put you through so much." She gripped my shirt, with her head buried in my chest. She put me through so much? How could she even think that? I stood there, my mouth agape from sheer shock. She...apologized. When was the last time I'd apologized? I couldn't remember. I'd put her through more than anyone should, and she was apologizing to me...? "N-No," I said. She looked up at me, her pale blue eyes swollen and bloodshot. "M-Mom, you...shouldn't... I'm sorry." "For...what?" She choked, then released her grip on my clothing. I sighed as I closed my eyes. Images flashed through my head as I though of everything that had happened to her, everything I'd done to her. My shoulders tensed. "Everything..."