I’m standing in front of a white porcelain tub, watching the water rise. Ripples distort my reflection as I stare at it. I don’t know when was the last time I had a real bath. A quick dip in a pool of murky water was the closest thing I had to one. Fluttershy dips a hoof in the water before shutting off the running water.
“There! It should be warm enough by now,” she says.
My front hooves latch onto the side of the bathtub in an effort to pull myself in. I fall forward with a large splash, soaking the floor around the tub. The water turns brown, clumps of dirt, twigs, leaves, and who knows what floating in the once-clear water. Apparently, it’s been a really long time since I properly washed myself. Off to the side, Fluttershy has a small net in her mouth and is pulling out the debris. Meanwhile, the rabbit from earlier is standing on the sink, giving me the stink eye.
“So, um, Goldie, where are you from?” Fluttershy asks, smiling. She pulls the drain and begins refilling the tub with water.
I shrug.
“Well, what did you do before you...died?”
I shrug.
The smile on her face falters briefly. I can tell Fluttershy is running out of things to say. Clearly, this small talk is not going well.
“Goldie, what do you remember?”
There are many answers to that question. The sky. The sun. Hot summers and cold winters. Ponies talking to each other about the weather, their day, their work, and all things metaphysical and metaphorical. There's so many things that I remember about the world, yet nothing about myself. I am but a pebble in a massive ocean. I'm afraid I'm going to drown and lose myself in it.
"Goldie!"
I'm back in the present. My face is half-submerged in the water. I pull my muzzle out and begin clearing my waterlogged nostrils. Fluttershy is staring at me, looking quite aghast. I have an incredible urge to blush right now.
"Sor...ry," I say.
"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have asked."
I rest my head on the side of the tub, while Fluttershy scrubs the shampoo into my mane.
"Not...sure," I say at last. "Many...things."
"Anything about yourself?" she asks.
I shake my head, getting shampoo all over Fluttershy, but she doesn't seem to mind. A blue flower falls into the water. It's the one I keep behind my ear. My eyes level to it as it floats on the surface. It floats away from me with each puff of air from my nose. It's very hypnotic.
"Oh, that's a very pretty flower you have there," she says, getting a closer look. "It kind of reminds me of poison...joke." Her voice trails off.
For a moment, something flickers in her eyes. She can’t see it, but I can. She has a faraway look, like she’s watching a film, memories flashing behind those big eyes. She jerks her head away from the flower as if she's been bit. I watch with mild curiosity. Is she allergic to flowers? It would be sad if she was.
After she looks over herself, she gives me a worrying look. "Goldie..." She flinches as if expecting something to happen, but nothing does. "Goldie," she continues, "do you feel any different than usual?”
I shake my head and go back to watching my flower.
She gives a long stare at me before they soften. “I see…”
She knows something that I don’t, but she doesn’t want to say what’s on her mind. I don’t want to upset her, so I don’t ask. I’m content with things being the way they are.
Fluttershy starts lathering my coat with soap, mindful of the open cuts that mar my body. “Oh my, how did you get hurt so much?”
I shrug. It might have to do something with walking through thornbushes and prickly branches in the forest. I hardly notice these things anymore. It’s not so bad. They’re just shallow and minor cuts.
“You really should take better care of yourself, even if you aren’t alive,” she says.
I nod dumbly, still not taking my eyes off the floating blue flower, now surrounded by bubbly suds.
She rinses me off one last time before draining the filthy water and drying me off with a towel. The flower goes down the drain, much like most of the important things in my life. Oh, well. I can always get another one. I’m taken to a bedroom. It’s ordinary, as expected, but it’s filled with treasures of the mundane. The rabbit makes himself comfortable on a pillow, still keeping a wary eye on me.
“Okay, Goldie. Just sit down and I’ll get you all patched up,” she says. “Um, Goldie?”
I’m too busy nosing through her stuff. My nose is flipping through pages of a book, and a vase full of flowers was knocked over in my clumsiness. I make a poor houseguest, I know, but I can’t help it. Curiosity pulls at me like a dog on a leash. My eyes are staring at words on a page, but they aren’t words. They’re lines on paper, their meaning lost to me. I wordlessly flip through each page, hungry for lost knowledge. It’s all in front of me, but I can’t understand any of it. Those words that once spoke to me of stories and messages are silent, as if there’s nothing left to say to me.
Fluttershy drapes a wing over me and leads me to her bed. “Let’s fix you up over here, okay?” she asks sweetly.
I nod.
The mattress sinks below me as I sit on top of it. Fluttershy has a box with a red cross in her mouth. It’s a first aid kit, but I highly doubt it would be of any use to me. You can’t treat death like you do with a scraped leg.
A tender hoof brushes the fur away from my cuts as she inspects each one closely. There is no bleeding or pain, just gross open wounds. She doesn’t flinch at the sight of them, surprisingly. She goes to work, cleaning the each area with a moist cotton swab and bandaging it. The gesture is entirely pointless, but at the same time, it’s very gratifying.
My eyes wander around the room before stopping at a full-length mirror. I see myself sitting next to Fluttershy and the three butterflies that make up her cutie mark. But what I find most surprising is the smile on my face. Had I been smiling the whole time? I hadn’t noticed. I actually look nice for a change. The sheen has returned to my coat, tail, and mane. My creamy coat is back to its original color. I don't look like some feral pony. No twigs or leaves in my mane. No mud on my hooves. No depressing frown stuck on my face. I look...normal. My eyes still have that faraway, daydreaming look. But if this is a dream, then I don’t want to wake up from this moment.
“There! All done.” Fluttershy closes the first aid kit and looks at me. “How do you feel?”
I lick my lips and work my mouth. “Better.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear.” There is silence between the two of us until she asks, “What will you do now?”
I begin to shrug, but I stop and use my words instead. “Don’t...know.”
"Well, you're alive again, sort of. There must be something that you want to do."
I am silent. Nothing comes to mind concerning the things I want to do. I have never really thought about it. I never thought I would get this far. I have someone to talk to now, a friend even, but is that enough? I still feel empty. The hole inside me is big enough to fit the whole world and more.
“You don’t have to think about it now. I’m sure you’ll find something to do.” A clock chimes somewhere. “Oh, it’s time to feed my animal friends,” she says as she makes her way to the door. She stops and looks back. “Would...you like to help?”
I nod eagerly and follow her.
It's bright outside. It's never this bright in the forest. There isn't a thick canopy above to shade me. Was it always this bright?
A soft grunt comes from beside me. Fluttershy is dragging bags of animal feed that is much too big for her to carry alone.
"Can you help me carry this while I fill the bowls, please?" she asks, nodding towards a line of food bowls beside her cottage.
I grunt and heft each bag onto my back. Fluttershy grins and begins filling the animals' bowls with a small shovel. I do my job of dragging the bags around without complaint. It's not too heavy for me, but I move much slower while carrying them. We stop at each bowl, filling it with a different bag each time.
We get the work done in no time. Fluttershy puts the shovel back in the bag and wipes her forehead. "Goodness, we finished a lot quicker than I thought. Thank you, Goldie."
I groan and nod. I'm still not quite there to being an eloquent speaker just yet.
"Lunch time!" she calls. None of the animals show up. "Anyone? Where did everyone run off to?" She then says to herself, "I guess they're not hungry..."
I listen for the animals, but it's dead silent.
"Well, maybe my bird friends are hungry. Goldie, can you stay here while I go feed them?"
I nod.
She runs back into her home before coming out with balls of bird seed attached to laces of ribbons. She flies to every surrounding tree, hanging the bird seeds and offering words of encouragement. No one leaves the nests.
She returns, crestfallen. "I just don't understand. Why is no one coming out?"
She searches around her home for the slightest sign of wildlife. When she brushes through some tall grass, she finds one. It's a small field mouse.
"Oh, hello there. Do you know why everyone isn't showing up?"
It sees me and scurries deeper into the tall grass. Fluttershy notices it but goes to her house and comes back later with a small slice of cheese.
"Please, come out. She won't scare you. Right, Goldie?"
I nod and grunt in response. My lack of words isn't making me any less intimidating.
Though surprisingly, I see a small, whiskered face peek through. It sniffs a piece of cheese Fluttershy is holding out. It stares at me for a while before tentatively taking it and eating it.
"See? She's not so bad."
Other animals have started showing up now. A few more mice show up in front of Fluttershy, which she was more than glad to feed. A few more small animals show up to eat from their bowls, though cautious at the sight of me. The birds finally come out from their hiding spots and fly through the trees. Life slowly crawls back to Fluttershy's home.
As Fluttershy starts singing to the animals, I move away from the commotion. I’m sure the animals would feel more comfortable without me around. I find a nice shady spot under a tree and lie down on the grass. I watch from afar. It’s like watching an old memory. I try to imagine myself in Fluttershy’s place, talking and singing to the animals. Vocal chords shake the air. The words that flow out of her mouth are expressive and beautiful, while mine stumble in the dark. All anyone hears are the echos of my thoughts. I want to be more like her.
Something obstructs my view.
A finch is perched on the tip of my nose. It gives a chirp and then cocks its head at me. I don’t notice it at first, but I hear the flapping of wings and a chorus of chirping and whistling coming from the top of my head and my back.
“I hope you don’t mind, Goldie,” Fluttershy says. “You looked kind of lonely, so I asked my friends to meet you. You don’t mind, right?”
My head leaves the comfort of the ground, causing a flock of birds, all of different colors and sizes, to fly up to the branches. They look down at me curiously. Below, there are little critters hiding shyly under bushes, though still within my sight.
I look up at the pegasus standing in front of me. “No… Not...at all.” There’s a tingling sensation in my chest, but I wave it off as a phantom of a heartbeat.
She smiles. “My friend, Pinkie Pie, says everyone should smile. Maybe you should smile more.”
My lips quiver and twitch as I try to put on a winning smile.
She suddenly looks unnerved. “Um… I think you’re trying too hard.”
I try smiling again. I think about the way Fluttershy smiles--warm and friendly.
“See? You do have a nice smile,” she says.
I let my ego soak in the compliments. It’s not easy getting compliments when you’re dead. I’ll take them wherever I can.
“With a smile like that, I’m sure you’ll make more friends in Ponyville.” Her face brightens up. “I should take you to see my friends. They’re the nicest ponies you’ll ever meet.”
My smile vanishes, and my eyes shy away from hers. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Fluttershy may be an exception, but I just don’t think I can talk to ponies as I do with her. She’s...special. I’m terrified of other ponies, I realize that now. My previous, awkward encounters are a testament to that. It’s scary, like so much of the world, but there’s an unexplainable fascination that I find appealing.
“Oh, um, we don’t have to meet them today. Sorry if I’ve upset you,” she apologizes. “We can take things slowly if you want.”
I shake my head. “It’s...fine. Want to...meet.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I just know they’ll like you.”
She wraps her hooves around me and holds me. If she held me tighter, would I feel her heart beating? Can her heart remind mine of life’s rhythm?
I let out an involuntary groan, but she smiles anyway. I smile back. Smiling is the universal language where unspoken words are said. Perhaps behind those moans and groans, she can hear me and the things that I want to say. There are words that I want to say to her. The words that have been trying to leave my mouth carry the weight of the entire world: “Thank you.”