//------------------------------//
// Ch. 1: Of Words and Worries 
// Story: Made Of Glass 
// by MemoryLane 
//------------------------------//


Made Of Glass


A Fanfiction Written By Cyneryk


        

        The moment Lyra Heartstrings laid eyes upon Bon Bon’s suitcase, she knew that she was in for something bad.

“Bon Bon, do you have to go?” 

“I’ve already said, Lyra, I have no choice. You know this.”

“What do you mean ‘no choice’? It’s a candy convention!”

“Well, it’s not like I could say no. Besides I even asked you to come along with me twice already.”

“My stomach can’t handle chocolate. It just makes my tummy upset, Bonnie. I already told you.”

The frown on Lyra Heartstrings face was enough to make a small child cry. The soft clicking noise that came from Bon Bon’s bright pink travel suitcase unfortunately made her heart drop just a little bit lower. She stared at her best friend with almost pleading eyes, and her chest was welling up with an incoming sense of dread and loneliness.

Bon Bon tossed her friend a similar glance, but it was a slightly sheltered by her apparent lack of eye contact. She wandered over to her closet, and snatched a straw hat off of a hook on the door. “Lyra, I need to go! This can be my one chance to finally kick start my business. I can’t afford to miss this. Also, I already put money down on a booth, and it’s nonrefundable.”

Lyra turned her gaze to the floor, and let out a soft, defeated sigh. The silent urge to just go with her friend was staggering. As impulsive as she was, she knew deep in her heart that that was a terrible idea. She’d tell herself she wasn’t going to eat a single morsel. Until, that is, she got hungry. She could see herself curiously eating a few pieces of candy, and suffering at the resulting stomach ache. She had learned the hard way all those years ago of her sugar intolerance.

“Well… what am I supposed to do while you’re gone? I don’t have any performances or… something to even do for that matter.” Lyra could already feel the boredom beginning to set in.

Bon Bon wiped a bit of dust off the top of the hat, before popping it on her head. Lyra quickly knew that she had phrased her question stupidly upon noticing her roommates silly, cocked eyebrow. “I have no idea. Go out, meet somepony new.” A small, playful grin spread across her face, but she turned around to throw her suitcase on her back just before Lyra could take notice. “I heard there’s a new stallion at the cafe down the street. I was told that he may be single, Lyrie?” Bon Bon wiggled her eyebrows.

Lyra’s rolled her eyes. “Oh please,” she groaned, while waving a dismissive hoof. While she didn’t wish to admit that she had no desire to talk to said stallion, she fought for a way to re-ask her initial question. “It’s just gonna be so boring. Most of the time when you’re not here, I just read or practice my lyre, but I’ve already done both to a point where it’s just tiring.”

Lyra had tried to meet new ponies before, but that never really ended very well. She kept that little fact to herself. Truthfully, Bon Bon was her one and only friend that had actually managed to stick with her through the years. Now, with her going to be gone for who-knew-how-long, Lyra couldn’t help but shiver.

“Don’t worry,” Bon Bon said, adjusting her summery hat. A kind smile adorned her pretty face. “You’ve managed before, I’m sure you’ll manage again.”

Lyra bit the inside of her cheek. “I guess,” she muttered with a shrug. “I promise the next convention I’ll just suck it up for you.”

This time, both of Bon Bon’s eyebrows were raised up high for just a split moment. The movement made Lyra’s chest drop just a little bit more. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. Besides, what’s the point in coming when you’ll just get sick? I eat some of the candy there too, everyone does. It’s practically what the entire convention is for.” She smiled, and inched a little closer to her best friend. She rested a hoof on Lyra’s shoulder, comfortingly. “You’re still my good friend, whether you come or not.”

Lyra looked away—a brief, guilty sensation rose up inside of her. Who was she to keep her best friend from chasing her dreams? To Lyra, Bon Bon made the best candies in all of Ponyville. Actually, Bon Bon’s candies were the only ones that she had really eaten in a long time. Lyra only did it because, well, it was her best friend. She would put up with a night of sickness so her friend would be happy. “I… I know, Bonnie.”

Bon Bon’s face beamed, and she took a small step back. “Good! Because my train leaves in forty five minutes, and it’s a long ride to Manehatten. I need to get going.” She raised up her foreleg and turned her head, like she was ready to take off, but Lyra spoke up quickly.

“Er, when will you be back again?” she asked. Bon Bon swiveled her head back around. After a small moment of contemplation, Bon Bon gave Lyra another gleaming smile.

“I’ll be back on the 17th. That’s when the last day of the convention is. Hopefully, I’ll come back with some money, or maybe with a business deal,” she squealed. She did a small, excited jog in place. 

Lyra turned to look at the calendar that was posted a few feet from Bon Bon’s bed.

It was July 3rd. She let out a mental sigh, before whirling around to look back at Bon Bon.

“I sure hope so. Good luck, Bonnie!” Lyra forced herself to smile, and wave a meager hoof goodbye to her friend, and welcome to her future isolation.

Bon Bon waved back, while she scampered out of the room. The suitcase on her back balanced precariously. “Bye!” she nearly shouted. With every hoofstep of hers that Lyra heard, the louder that annoying voice in the back of her head was shouting. She held back the urge to call back to her friend, for fear of making the situation a bit more awkward that it already was.

Still, she really didn’t want to be alone.

The slamming of the front door was like a mental slap to her face. She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, but she was nearly certain that she could feel the wind from the door lightly nip at her face from the other room. The melancholic din of the now empty home was sickening, making Lyra more ill than she’d care to admit.

Lyra simply stared at the vacant spot where Bon Bon was just standing moments before, and loudly exhaled. She didn’t even need to look when she fell over, and plopped her light green body on the bed. She bounced just a little bit, before her body finally came to rest. Lying on her side, she had a perfect view of the boring, white walls.

The silence that Bon Bon had intentionally brought forth was already a force to be reckoned with, until she eventually just filled it with the soothing sound of her own buttery voice. “This… is going to suck.”

Lyra didn’t know exactly what it was about her, or her personality in general. However, she just didn’t have the capability to make friends like normal ponies. The connections that one would feel upon a first initial communication were never there. The only time she had felt any sort of link was with Bon Bon. Weirdly enough, Lyra still didn’t know why, even after those four long years.

Either way, Lyra was doomed to a life of social awkwardness, small and meaningless friendships, and pitifully short relationships. She learned to get over the disappointment fairly quickly, or so she believed. Eventually, she also got over the need to have other ponies in her life anyways.

The soft bedspread that Lyra had pressed herself against felt heavenly against her fur. Golden eyes sparkled back at the sunlight that poured into the room like maple syrup. Lyra didn’t even blink as the beams slid over her eyes. She embraced the burning sensation that the sun gave her before she ultimately closed them.

She let out another sigh, as she let her muscles begin to relax and unwind. “This is going to be the worst two weeks of my life.”

Lyra was only partially correct.





        She woke up only two hours later.

        The residual grogginess that clouded her brain was unbearable. Her mind was fogged, completely unclear and diverse, and she could barely register the rest of her body. “Ughhh...” she groaned. The sigh had unintentionally drifted from her lips, and it took her a moment to realize that the strange sound had actually come from her.

        She peeked open her eyes as a vital thought finally crossed through her mind: she had fallen asleep.

        The sun was no longer flowing through the window right in front of her. Now, it was pouring in out of the only other window in the room, to the right of Lyra’s bed. While the room was still bright, Lyra almost immediately figured that she had been asleep for at least a few hours. 

        Her limbs were still slack, but she mustered all of her strength to flip over and glance at the alarm clock placed conveniently on the nightstand only a few feet away.

        It was only four in the evening.

        If she had the energy to give an indifferent shrug, she most certainly would have. Instead, she meagerly flopped her head back onto the bed. Two hours in, and I’m already dying, she thought. She knew she couldn’t just sleep forever, as alluring as the thought was. There was no possible way that she was going to coerce herself to nap again. Besides, she’d only be up all night anyways, should she succeed.

        She heaved a large groan, and forced herself to her hooves. Bad idea. Her head spun the moment that she stood upright, and threatened to send her sprawling on the floor. She allowed a quiet, guttural moan to pass out of her dry throat

        But, as quickly as the dizziness had came, it went—leaving Lyra standing lamely in the boring bedroom.

        She looked around for a moment, before she slogged out of Bon Bon’s room. Her eyes were aimed towards the floor. She had been living in the residence long enough now—almost a year—to keep herself from absently crashing and bumping into things. She had made this journey, all whilst looking downward, plenty of times.

        Lyra wandered into her room, the second door on the right. She practically barged inside. She was quickly overcome with the innate urge to just… do something. 

        Perhaps Bon Bon was right, Lyra thought, as she snatched her teal colored purse from its place on the side of her bed. It… couldn’t hurt to just get out of the house or something. Find something to do, or try to meet someone new, I guess.

        Whether it be a small moment of revelation, another one of her horrid impulses, or another reminder of her very, very miniscule case of thaasophobia, she knew that she wanted to get out. She could hear the songbirds and the chattering of ponies in the square below out of her open window—with it being the undeniable truth-teller that it was.

        She turned towards the floor, and let out another captivating sigh. Deep in her heart, she pleaded for others. She wished for friends, a lover, a group to call her own. She prayed for that one significant moment where she would feel the tingly sensation that acceptance brought on.

        But she could never bring herself to try. It was her one fault, her one flaw that she’d trade any other trait just to get rid of.

        She could feel the rush already beginning to leave her body. Without taking another moment to think about it, she hardened her gaze on the window on the other side of the room. 

        As if it was her greatest enemy, Lyra let out a “humph!” and trotted out of the room.





        The air that struck Lyra’s face was like being hit with a oceanic wave of palpable purity. The second that the rush of wind touched her cheeks, a surge of energy tore through her veins, like some kind of lackluster adrenaline. It tasted sweet, almost like cotton candy. It was such a gorgeous day, indeed. Being inside and looking out had the capability of warping the serenity of what really stood before her.

        Puffy clouds littered the sky, stamped on top of a bright blue backdrop almost randomly. The wonderful sky brought forth a chorus of tweets from the birds that flew through the sky. Various food stands littered the town square placed conveniently in front of Lyra and Bon Bon’s house. A few food vendors advertised their treats, while a couple of ponies answered their call. 

The only bad thing about living so close to the town square was the fact that it was almost always busy. Lucky for Lyra, it was a Monday afternoon. Lyra made a quick look around, and presumed the area to be only half as busy as what it would be normally. Then again, Lyra didn’t really pay much attention to things like that.

The countless voices that resonated from the area was enough to keep a normal pony from being able to hear himself think. Lyra had long ago got used to the loud noises, and naturally she slowly began to tune it all out.

Although Lyra couldn’t hear her hoofsteps as she made her way through the square, she honestly wish she could have. The singular sound of her own steps, for some reason, calmed her. Minute by minute, step by step, she made her way. She gave small passing glances towards the ponies she passed. Some of them smiled, some of them didn’t. Some of them bore bags of treats provided by the vendors, some just didn’t even have anything.

        Not one of them stuck out to Lyra. Not one of these ponies looked like a good candidate as a friend. As shallow as it was to judge based on looks, Lyra didn’t see it that way. It was merely… scoping out who she could see herself with. This, as well as the fact that her urge to try and talk to someone had completely come and gone. Yes. That must be it.

        Lyra was nervous again. She felt like melting. Should somepony just, out of the blue, come and talk to her, she felt like she would simply freeze up or have a heart attack. Her intermingling fears, desires, and personality traits were at a war inside of her head. It was like one giant match of Rock, Paper, Scissors. All three parts of Lyra contradicted the other two in some way, leaving her in a very bad position socially.

        She kept her head down for the rest of her walk, keeping her gaze towards the ground. Even when she passed the cafe Bon Bon mentioned, she just didn’t have it in her to go and talk to the cute stallion in the window. Unfortunately, she looked over at the wrong time. The stallion, who was only about twenty feet away, took a noticing to her as well. As soon as his orbs traveled towards her general direction, Lyra’s eyes widened, and she scampered off before she could even ask herself what she was doing.

        Eventually, Lyra made it out of the square. A bit relieved, she also had an idea of where she was going. There was only one place in town, save for the square itself, that she would frequent. Considering she had nothing else to do, she headed there. She took a left down Mayberry Street.

        It was all slowly becoming more and more quiet. The voices that were coming from the square were long gone, and replaced with a silence that Lyra wasn’t entirely sure that she liked. Everypony was either at work, holed up inside their house, or shopping in the square on Monday’s at around this time. The fact that the streets were this quiet wasn’t necessary uncommon, considering that Ponyville wasn’t the most popular town in the first place.

        It had taken a total of five minutes to reach her destination, but when Lyra finally arrived, a tiny smile plastered itself on her face. The words “Pawn’s Pawn Shop” adorned a sign in front of the little building. The words were already beginning to fade, but that didn’t exactly put Lyra off. Not wasting at time, she trotted inside, taking slight delight in the soft chiming of the bell on the door.

        The inside was nothing to be proud off. The entire shop was nearly the size of Lyra’s livingroom. Dusty, wooden shelves covered every able spot on the walls. Rusty nails poked through every now and then, piercing through the weakened wood with dangerous pointed edges. In the middle of the shop were tables arranged in a meticulous pattern, so one could walk up and down poorly constructed aisles like in a grocery store. One of the tables was missing a leg entirely. The owner must not have had the creativity to properly fix it, so he resorted to using a small golf club. Different things rested on top of the shelves and tables, junk that only a moron would actually spend bits on.

        All in all, Pawn’s Pawn Shop was a complete dump.

        “Ah!” called a voice from the other side of the store. Lyra almost jumped, and turned her head like a dear facing rushing headlights. “Back again, I see! You plan on buyin’ somethin’ this time?”

        Lyra quickly calmed down when the blue body of Pawn, the owner, began taking a few steps closer to her. His disheveled white mane matched the dirtiness of the store. She let out a shaky breath, and shrugged. Her voice was strained, forcing her to keep her mouth shut. 

Lyra frequented the store at least once a week for reasons she didn’t entirely know herself. It got very boring wandering aimlessly around town, sometimes. At least in Pawn’s shop, she would occasionally come across neat looking junk. Unfortunately, her relationship with the owner was nonexistent. She didn’t feel comfortable in the slightest talking to him, like most ponies. This kept her from actually speaking to the—probably—very lonely Pawn. After all, it’s not like he got a lot of customers throughout the day.

Lyra turned her head to the nearest shelf, and tried her best to focus on the scattered items in front of her. She felt incredibly rude, but she hoped the Pawn would go ahead and find something else to do.

She could feel his frown. “Well, alright then. You’re an awfully quiet one. Jus’ lemme know if ya need anything. You know where I’ll be.” Pawn had, actually, long ago given up on starting casual conversation with Lyra. However, that didn’t stop him from being nice.

But, no matter how much Lyra wanted to, she just couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth.

Pawn cleared his throat, and slogged away to the other side of the store, leaving Lyra to do her looking. Lyra couldn’t help but take a large gasp for air the moment she realized he was gone. She hadn’t noticed that she had been holding her breath.

When she finally felt alright, she returned to her browsing. Only rarely, would Pawn receive some new merchandise that ponies would trade in for spare bits. Though, they were usually no better than what Pawn had already on his shelves. Mainly trash, or things that somepony didn’t have the heart to throw out.

There was a small radio playing from somewhere inside the room, sending a jazzy tune throughout the entire shop. Every now and then, while Lyra browsed almost aimlessly through the shelves, she’d catch herself nodding along—like a complete idiot.

Seconds turned into minutes, and they quickly began to add up. As Lyra made her way through the shop, she could feel Pawn giving her small occasional glances from behind the counter. It made her horrendously uncomfortable. She glued her eyes to the shelves, and noted all the the knick-knacks before her.

She saw a teddy bear, propped up against the wall. The words “Hug Me!” were stitched onto its belly. It held its arms out, like it was ready to hold her in a loving embrace. It’s eyes were pitch black though, for some reason. 

There was a telephone. Although, a few of its buttons were missing.

        There was arcade machine, on the floor underneath the shelves. Lyra had actually thought that it was pretty cool, until she noticed a piece of paper on it that said, “Does not work, for display only”. 

        There were a few books. Unfortunately, most of them were horribly old. She opened two of them. One of them had pages that were so sticky that she couldn’t even read half of it if she wanted to. The other was missing most of its pages entirely.

        All in all, Pawn’s Pawn Shop consisted of nothing but junk.
        
        Until her eyes laid upon something completely out of place.

        Located next to the book was a large, glass sphere. It was the size of a standard playground dodgeball. It was beautifully shiny, catching off the light in a matter than shined a neat looking pattern on the wall despite the lack of indents in it. It looked very delicate, as if a mere naughty glance was enough to shatter it to pieces. The ball was entirely see through. It was a nearly perfect decorative orb, one that completely piqued Lyra’s curiosity. 

 Lyra couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at it. It was strange, seeing something so clean and, well, beautiful in a place like this. She was positive that the ball had not been there a week ago upon her previous visit. The ball looked like a great match for her bedroom. If she put it next to the window, it might even create some pretty rainbow patterns on the wall. Upon looking at the price tag, she noticed that it was well within her price range: fifteen bits. 

Lyra turned from the ball, to Pawn, and back again. He was still looking at her expectantly, but he tried to be subtle about it. He’d swap his glances between her and something else on one of the tables a few feet away. She almost felt bad for him. He never made very much money, which explained the constant mess of his store. She could also sympathize with his loneliness, even though she had no urge to do anything about that.

She didn’t think twice. She quickly grabbed the ball off of the shelf—her impulsive moment come and gone.

Pawn’s eyes actually widened when she gently placed the glass ball on the counter. “O-Oh!” he said. Lyra looked down, and dug her nose through her purse while Pawn looked for the words to say. “You’re actually buying something?” he said incredulously, his face contorted into a kind smile. “Haha, great! I haven’t sold a darn thing in a while. Gotta say.”

Lyra, obviously, did not reply. She slapped a total of 28 coins on the table—all the bits she had on her—before grabbing the ball and towards the exit, away from Pawn.

“W-Wait! You overpaid!” Pawn quickly called after her. But by then, he was too late. The door chimed, and Lyra was already out of the his shop. 

Lyra was certain that she heard Pawn yelling a grateful “Thank you!” as she bolted down the street, towards home.





        After wading through the ever-increasing crowd that littered the town square, making extra sure to keep a careful grip on her new decoration, she eventually reached her house. While setting her new gift on the clean stone just outside her home, she fished through her purse for her keys, picked back up the ball, and wandered inside. She practically slammed the door behind her. 

She was much too eager to get home to the security of her home, but she didn’t care. It was all she wanted.

        She peered down at the orb in her hooves. It was extraordinarily light. In fact, Lyra could have easily held it in one hoof had it not looked so delicate. It had to weigh less than five pounds.

        Lyra smiled. Truthfully, she was a bit proud of herself for finding it. Save for groceries, she never really bought much for herself with the money she received from her concerts. She felt a strange pang of excitement every time she found a way to spend a little bit of hard earned bits on something that she actually wanted. 

        It made her feel a bit warm inside, a sensation that she’d only ever feel once in a blue moon.
        
        Upon entering her house, she was hit with a comforting sense of familiarity, like she was walking into a safe zone. She could finally exhale, and let the air escape her panicked body. The tingling in her bones were finally beginning to wane, being subdued by the oncoming feeling of relief that was starting to cloud her like a warm blanket.

        Lyra set her bag in the livingroom, on her way to her bedroom. She carefully cradled the ball in her hoof, like a small child. The last thing she wanted to do was drop and break it, especially after just purchasing it. Besides, she wanted Bon Bon to see it. She was sure her best friend would be a little jealous over her new find.

        Walking into her bedroom, she looked around. Everything was exactly the same as it was before she left. Her bed was propped against the wall in the middle of the room, facing her closet. Lyra contemplated if the ball would look prettier on her nightstand, by her bed, or on top of the dresser, directly in front of the windowsill. 

        After a bit of thinking, she put the ball on the dresser. Putting it on the nightstand was just stupid. She moved around a bit in her sleep, and she tended to keep things on that night stand while she slept, like water. Last thing she wanted was to accidentally nudge it or something.

        She set the glass ball on the little spot in front of the window, next to a few pictures of her and Bon Bon.

        She hadn’t looked at them in a while, honestly.

        If she was thinking correctly, then she presumed that the light should shine through the window in the mornings. She was terribly excited to see the neat rainbow designs the ball would create on her walls once the light hit it. Even though it was four o’clock right then, the sun was shining on the complete other side of the house.

        She stopped, stared at the motionless ball, and then sighed. She was still bored.

        “Ugh,” she groaned. “There has to be… something I can do?” The words echoed throughout the entire house. It felt like someone was knocking on her head whenever she heard her own voice.

        She missed Bon Bon already. However, her friend’s absence was not going to drive Lyra into a small fit of insanity. She had to defeat this, somehow. 

        Lyra dejectedly made her way for the kitchen, and flipped the on switch for the small radio that sat on the counter. She changed the station to the one of her preference, and went to grab a few pieces of paper—as well as some pretty crayons—to occupy herself with.

        Her misery was at an all time high, driven by the boredom and loneliness that contradicted her innermost wishes and desires. Lyra was positively certain that there was absolutely nothing that could depress her more than what she was doing right now: spending her time coloring, while listening to music she really didn’t favor, until she could go to bed.

        Father Time was her enemy now. Unfortunately, it was only a mere mafioso. Somewhere, inside of Lyra’s house, the godfather lurked.

        And it was sitting right there, next to Lyra’s window.





        The night only brought more pain—a troubling sorrow that threatened to perturb Lyra’s state of mind.

        She fell asleep terribly early that night. The last time she looked at the clock on her nightstand before she turned was at seven o’clock. Then again, she was never particularly an owl, preferring to spend the night time with the cold grasp of sleep tugging at her subconscious. 

        Soft breaths rested easily on her pillowcase, surrounding her face and cheeks with a tender, steaming sensation. To anyone who would have been watching her this late at night, it would appear like she was just barely blushing in her sleep.

        She rested on her side, facing the doorway with her back against the dresser. She was out like a light. Sleep was her best friend, now. Seeing as Bon Bon would be gone for the next thirteen days, sleeping her time away was most certainly a great way to kill time, as well as suffocate those emotions that promised to bury her alive.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. 

Soft snores filled the quiet din of the bedroom. Like an orchestra doing a last minute 
rehearsal, the music soared through the air methodically and desperately. 

        Lyra could hear the notes inside of her head while she slept. The palpable songs plucked out from her lovely lyre floated in and out of her consciousness. She was dreaming in melody. She could envision her instrument, playing away a myriad of splendid sounds. Though, back in reality, she was laying motionless, she could feel herself sway inside of her head.

        She was on top of the clouds, merrily undulating in her dreamlike world. She was dancing with the angels, high above the land where her problems and fears roamed free like wild animals.

        She could feel her heart flare, like it was poked with a rod touching the surface of the sun. Chills ironically brought forth made Lyra smile in her sleep, overcome with the godly emotions that ran through her distant mind. Only rarely did she ever dream, and when she did, it was never a nightmare. No. It was only promises of good things; a showcase of what her life was really meant for, what it really entitled and wished upon her. Unfortunately, it couldn’t last forever.

        “H-Hello?”

        Lyra’s eyes shot open before her brain could even register what it was doing. She sat up in bed, using her left foreleg to prop herself in the air. Her orbs were small, tiny pinpricks that were suffocated in a sea of white.

        What was that? Did she just hear something? Something had woken her up, but was it just a voice, or an anomaly from her dream? With her back to the window, she looked down at the alarm clock on the nightstand right next to her, a few inches from the corner of the room. It read 12:01 AM.

        She could hear breathing behind her. Quick, almost panicked, bursts of air coming from somewhere beyond her gaze. She stared at the wall as her heart felt like doing jumping jacks inside of her chest.

        Looking at the wall, she was terribly frightened. Somepony had broken into her house? Did she leave her window open last night?

        Who’s there? Here. With me, she thought, unable to ask the questions out loud.

        Her teeth were bared fearfully as she stared forward. There was a bright light that casted her shadow on the wall, like a petrified silhouette. The light that came from behind her almost urged her to jump back down in her covers, and wrap herself in her sheets while she prayed for the intruder to leave. She didn’t know what to do, except to sit there until something happened. Until the trespasser attacked her, killed her, maimed her, raped her, kidnapped her, Lyra was left with an almost nightmarish feeling of anxiety and trepidation.

        Slowly. Very slowly, Lyra turned her head—shifting her body just a little bit should she have to do something drastic. Shivers coursed their way through her veins, making her feel like her blood was replaced with maple syrup.

        She was alone.

        As comforting as that fact was, she was still on edge. Her eyes darted around the room, until she noticed something very strange. The light that shone through the room, basking it in  a bright blue hue, came from the glass ball. She could see the light occasionally shift, as if somepony was holding it in front of a flashlight, and then spinning it around in their hooves in a slow manner.

        “Holy Hell…”

        She stopped, her breath caught inside of her throat. She felt like she had just swallowed a boulder. Her gullet strained, her muscles tensing to the point that it hurt. 

        Somepony was most certainly in her home. She had heard it, loud and clear. While, she didn’t quite understand what was said, it didn’t help the fact that she was ready to bolt the moment she heard the floor creak, or the sound of something shifting in her room. Lyra, in her nervous state, was much more scared about the noise, rather than the suspicious light that came from the ball. 

        Lyra wanted to call out, but she couldn’t. It was always the case, her voice betrayed by her own mind once more. She wished to yell, to make her presence known—but she knew that she’d never have the courage to do something like that. Her inner fear and social deformities refused to let her do anything at the moment except for tremble with nervousness. 

        The more Lyra stared at the glass ball, the more her eyes began to adjust to the horribly bright light. After a bit of squinting, she could make out movement that came from the surface of the glass ball. It seemed to sway, or turn, every few seconds. Whatever was plastered on its side, like she was watching a movie through it, was a creamy color. Lyra couldn’t entirely make out anything else until a few moments later, when she slowly began to get out of bed.

        It was a head.

        Some kind of alien head was projecting itself on the side of her glass ball.

        Unfortunately, Lyra noticed this a bit too late. She stopped in her tracks, frozen. Her brain was going through sporadic twitches that threatened to cause her to faint. Her head began to hurt, but she couldn’t help but stare wide eyed as her heart almost jolted to a stop.

        “You… can’t be real, right?” Whatever the being was, Lyra could see its face entirely. Its face was hairless, save for a short brown mane that barely touched—what Lyra assumed— were ears. Behind a pair of what appeared to be glasses were eyes the color of the ocean, though they were hard to see with the darkness that the ball brought forth. Though he was completely front-lit, a few areas of its face were covered in mysterious shadows. It cocked an fearful eyebrow, as it mumbled to itself. “This has to be some kind of joke. Some kind of television or something? A projection?” With those words, the being turned his head. Whatever projection was going on, it panned out, showing that it as some kind of hairless monkey with very long appendages that Lyra didn’t end up seeing very well.

        Lyra was on the verge of passing out. She was violently shaking, as the beast began to speak. She couldn’t talk, as her tongue locked in its place in her mouth. She could only watch, petrified and helpless.

        Suddenly, the beast turned its features towards her, focusing in on Lyra like he was about to reach out and grab her. Take her. Eat her. It bore teeth that shined in the darkness, like a lighthouse beacon. He didn’t appear to have a muzzle, just a mouth. There were two holes in the middle of its head, while Lyra automatically assumed to be a nose. Then again, she was only taking guesses.

        It raised up its appendage, the one Lyra noted earlier, and pointed some kind of stubby attachment at her. “You. What’s the meaning of this?”

        Lyra didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe. It knew she was there. There was no way she was going to be able to coax any words out now. She wanted to run, bolt out of her room and out of her house. She wanted to be away, outside, somewhere where this monster wasn’t.

        After a few moments, the being let out a soft sigh, and adjusted its glasses. It seemed… annoyed? She couldn’t tell. He looked at something on the floor, and then back to her. Its eyes were steely, and Lyra felt like she wanted to melt into the floor.

        “Can you hear me?” it said. “I have a feeling you can. What’s going on? What are you? This can’t be some kind of prank. There’s no way. The inside of this thing in completely empty, and even when I move it around...” It brought it’s face a little closer, making Lyra’s eyes twitch. She heard a loud ping, like it was tapping on something. Lyra had a feeling, based on its voice, that the being was male. “You moved a second ago. I saw it.”

        Even though whatever the being was knew about her existence, this only made Lyra panic just a little bit more. 

        He stared at her, as if he was inspecting her, before breaking his hard gaze. Lyra could see the look on his face that, through some kind of realization, there was no explanation. She was in the same boat. Lyra had no clue what this being even was, or what was going on. It clouded her judgement, and her ability to think. Her inner fear of death and the unknown kept her from trying to figure it out.

        “I’ll humor this,” he said. He looked up a bit, revealing shimmering blue eyes. Actually, they looked fairly similar to Bon Bon’s. The reminder of her absence made Lyra’s heart drop a little bit further. “Hello? Can you say something?”

Only if she were here, Lyra thought to herself, but only barely. Her inner mind was shouting all sorts of things at her. She’d know what to do. She’d protect me.

There was a long silence. Lyra still felt like her throat was being strangled, keeping her from talking. Her eyes would occasionally flicker, turning away before she even could realize what she was doing, before raising them when she remembered not to take her eyes off what could possibly be her killer. Even though she stood a good five feet away from the glass ball, it was an obvious motion. The monster took notice of this immediately.

“Why aren’t you talking? Can you not understand me? Yeah, that’s probably it,” he sighed, before rubbing an appendage through his mane. “What even are you?”

No response.

The beast looked like it was getting a bit irritated. Lyra didn’t exactly like the look of it. He squinted at her, intimidatingly. It made her extremely uncomfortable. 

Lyra finally worked up the courage to do one of two things: flee, or open her mouth.

She chose the former—she bolted.

One step, two steps. She was close to the door already, which honestly should have allowed her to escape in the amount of time she was given. Unfortunately, she immediately stopped when the creature behind her shouted, “Wait, stop!” at the top of his lungs.

Lyra didn’t know why she had listened. She felt horrified that her fear of this being was enough to make her feel like some kind of pet, like if she didn’t obey that he’d come out of the glass and attack her. She hadn’t given him a reason to eat her, but she really didn’t want to.

She ended up frozen in place, staring at the closed door only a few inches in front of her. If Lyra had the vocabulary, she would have cursed herself a hundred times over. “Don’t run away, I’m not a threat.”

Lyra didn’t believe that in the slightest.

“Y… You can hear me. So you can understand me. This thing is real?” Lyra couldn’t see his face, as her back was completely turned, but he sounded completely flabbergasted. “Jesus… well, can you please say something? What’s your name?”

Lyra said nothing. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking. She closed her eyes, and prayed and begged for the being to go away—the monster inside the glass.

After another small pause, the being spoke desperately. “What if I told you my name?” he asked.

Lyra opened her eyes again, and she felt something rise deep inside of her chest.

“My name is Stanley,” he said. His voice dripped with sincerity, a kind of tone that made Lyra feel guilty to simply ignore. “Could you please tell me your name, now? It’s only fair.”

As much as Lyra didn’t believe in the word “fair”, she felt like her heart was being weighed down by a mountain. There was a silent part of her, a hidden piece of Lyra that she only rarely heard before. It was begging and pleading for release, to let it have just five seconds to come out and shine. Like a mere slave caught in a war, and wishing to risk its life on the front line for the greater good.

“Please…?”

Lyra let it go free, against her very inner will. Another strong urge, and impulse, coursed through her veins. It gave her an minuscule adrenaline rush as she let out a shaky breath. Her heart beat at a million miles an hour, before she slowly turned her head.

“My n-name is L-Lyra,” she said, in a tiny voice. She could only bring herself to look in “Stanley’s” general direction, not at him himself. Though, out of her peripheral vision, she could clearly see a small smile adorn his face. “Lyra H-Heartstrings.”

“Lyra, that’s a lovely name,” he cooed. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Lyra didn’t respond. Even though her head was still turned in his direction, she still couldn’t help but look at the ground. She simply maneuvered her head up and down, as if to say “you too”.

“Can you tell me anything about what’s happening, here? Why I can see you, and vice versa?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

It was unsure of what caused Lyra’s ears to spaz out on her. Whether it was her panic, or her reluctance to hear what scary things would probably pop out of his mouth, Lyra just didn’t understand what he said. She turned around, facing the glass ball as her legs shooks with the intensity of a magnitude five earthquake. Her golden eyes that pierced through the darkness like sewing needles were brimming with tears. “Please… p-please don’t kill me,” she choked, each word catching fire inside of her poor, aching throat.

Stanley went wide eyed, as if he was realizing some kind of mistake. He lifted his forelegs into the air, as if to show he was defenseless. “Whoa, whoa, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said. “I’m just as confused about this as you are. Don’t cry! Awh, man, don’t cry!”

Lyra obeyed, and wiped a few tears away from her eyes and cheeks. Although he clearly said that he would not attack or injure her, she still couldn’t stop herself from shaking. She wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. A part of her took one look at the monster, and she could feel the sincerely chipping off of him.

        “Just, help me. I just want to know what’s going on, and why we’re talking. Where are you from, first of all?”

        Lyra gulped. She couldn’t believe that she was, technically, having a conversation with somepony who wasn’t Bon Bon. She couldn’t remember the last time she opened her mouth at anypony, much less some kind of monster. She honestly hoped that telling the being where she lived wasn’t a bad idea, but just to be safe, she chose to be vague. “I-I live in Ponyville.” Her voice was exceptionally tiny, and Stanley had to lean in a little bit just to hear her properly.

        “Say what now?”

        “P-P-Ponyville.”

        “Where’s that?”

        “Near C-C-Canterlot, a-and the Everfree F-Forest.”

        He cocked an eyebrow, as if she was speaking another language entirely. “I have no idea where those places are,” he said. He shook his head, quickly. He made an alien noise with his mouth. “Do you live in some kind of country?”

        “E-Equestria.” Lyra had already come to the realization of what he was getting at.

        He suddenly stopped—frozen in space as Lyra watched as gears turned in his head. Suddenly, very suddenly, he let out a large groan. “Yeah… I have no idea. Never heard of any of those places.” He looked up, back at Lyra. “Ever heard of somewhere called ‘America’?”

        Lyra had never heard of that place either, so she just shook her head. Stanley looked like he was becoming a bit more agitated. Lyra’s vision of him shifted just a little, like he was lifting up a camera that was focused on him. “This is fricken’ weird. First, I find this stupid ball, then I get my bike stolen, and now I’m talking to some kind of two-dimensional creature that’s probably from some kind of different world,” he said, before letting out a soft sigh. Every so often, the light that radiated from some point in his room would reflect off his glasses, making it impossible to see quite a bit of his face. “This can’t be happening.”

        At the mentioning of the glass ball, Lyra’s heart froze. She felt the blood rush from her face. She following words poured out of her mouth before she had a chance to realize what was happening. “G-Glass b-ball?”

        Stanley glanced back at Lyra, and gave a small nod. “Yep. Found it in the bushes in Central Park. Why?” he said, bringing his face just a little closer to the glass. Lyra was tempted to move a bit closer, but quickly decided against it. She was still unsure about the possibility of him simply reaching through the ball and grabbing her, or something. As crazy as it sounded, Lyra believed it was a very rational thought at the time.

        “I-I found one t-t-today, at a p-pawn s-store.”

        Stanley sat up, prompting Lyra to jump. She almost backed up and tripped over the bed, but luckily she ended up keeping her balance. She did let out a pathetic whine though. “Wait, so… what are these glass balls some kind of communicator things? God damn, so it’s kind of like a some weird version of Skype…?”

        Lyra didn’t have the nerve to ask what in the world he was talking about, however, his hypothesis clicked in her mind. While Equestria did have some minor technology, like cameras and a very low quality types of arcade games, she had never heard of anything quite like this. “This is… somewhat incredible…” said Stanley.

        Lyra didn’t respond. She still had her eyes fixed upon the being on the other side of the glass ball. Though, she still didn’t have an idea of what in the world was going on, she still couldn’t help but shiver whenever the being looked at her. It was like he’d just eye her up at times. 

        Lyra could note that Stanley was sitting on some kind of large, black chair. She could see the back of it, even with the horrid lighting. He rested his upper body against it, and crossed her forearms once again. “Just… just what are you? Some kind of horse?”

        Lyra’s lips flattened together, and she casted her gaze towards the floor to her right. Worried thoughts passed through her brain. The suddenness of having a conversation with somepony was still taking its toll on her, keeping her from talking without getting flustered and heart-wrenchingly nervous. She had hoped that, one day, she would find somepony who would let her ease herself into a quaint conversation, until she got used to them—kind of like she did Bon Bon. She wasn’t prepared for this. She didn’t have time to go over in her head just what she was going to say, or do.

        It was like having a fear of clowns, and then being forced to star in an infested circus.

        Lyra closed her eyes, look a large calming breath, and then opened them again. Perhaps this was good practice for her, even though she didn’t ask or want it. “I-I-I’m a u-unicorn,” she stuttered, looking back at the glass ball.

        Stanley didn’t move an inch. The small silence that rode out between them was almost unbearable, which made Lyra regret everything she had just thought. Eventually, the tiniest of grins adorned his face. He exasperatingly, yet briefly, shook his head as he spoke. It was almost as if he believed that he hadn’t heard her correctly. “That’s impossible. Unicorns don’t exist.”

        Lyra trembled. Obviously, she knew now, that this monster’s hypothesis was correct. There was no way something like him could live in Equestria—or even Equus—that doesn’t “believe” in unicorns. Lyra gulped. Instead of talking she shakily brought a hoof to her forehead, and removed her mane as to show her protruding horn. Considering that she had just woken up from a rather deep sleep, as well as the conspiring events, she completely forgot about the fact that she had bed-mane—and that her horn had been accidentally covered.

        Stanley’s eyes flickered behind his glasses. It was a delayed reaction, but after a few seconds he let out a long winded groan, and buried his head in… Lyra didn’t know what to call them—some kind of claws, maybe? “No way,” he muttered, before quickly lifting his head up. “Here on Earth, unicorns are only mythical folklore… not real.”

        Lyra kept herself from cocking her head. She had never heard of “Earth” as a place before. He comes from a place that’s named after the terrain? That’s a bit redundant. While Lyra would never say this out loud, especially to Stanley, she felt like she could easily convey it to Bon Bon.
        
        A small chill floated in and out of Lyra’s room, passing through like a malevolent ghost. She could almost feel it resting on her shoulder. The hot breath of air that Stanley exhaled was full of disbelief and some kind of disturbance that Lyra couldn’t exactly pick up on. “Lemme repeat this for clarification,” he said. He wasn’t even looking at Lyra, but somewhere off in the distance to his left. “You’re a teal-ish colored unicorn, from some place called Equestria, in a completely different world from mine. And, most of all, you’re in my glass ball.”

Lyra glanced left, then right, and then uttered a small nod. She wasn’t sure if Stanley liked her answer, but regardless he let out some kind of exasperated chuckle. “That’s amazing,” he laughed. “Us humans’ll go crazy when we realize. Every six year old girl ever will lose their minds.”

        Humans, Lyra repeated. He’s… a human. She had never heard of them before. In fact, she’s never heard that word in her entire life. During school, around town, in books—she had never learned of creatures like Stanley before, never truly knew of their existence. It put her off a bit. While she did have a few questions of her own to ask, she obviously didn’t have the courage. She still hadn’t stopped shivering involuntarily.

        Stanley looked up from whatever it was he was staring at, and gave her a kind smile. “Well, er,” he stammered. For some reason, Lyra blushed. She kicked at a small sock on her floor. “And here I thought I got lucky for finding this damn thing,” he admitted. He must have flicked the ball again, because Lyra could hear more soft “pinging” noises. “I was going to take this somewhere in the morning and see if I could get any cash from it.”

        Lyra’s mouth was horrendously dry and scratchy. Every time she tried to swallow, it felt like the inside of her throat was lined with sandpaper.  

        Stanley let out another sigh, and looked behind him at what looked like his bedroom. “Yeah, God knows I could use some cash right now,” he mulled. 

        The unicorn shrugged. Lyra couldn’t get over how… friendly, the human was. Lyra hadn’t said much ever since the “conversation” started, and he was still chatting away. Whether it was just his personality, or if he was just being overly kind due to the fact that Lyra found him scary, she’d never know.

        “On Earth, everyone’s having it rough,” Stanley admitted. He turned back to Lyra with soft eyes filled with some kind of veteran sadness. “Money’s hard to come by over here. You have to work hard, and long hours just to be able to afford housing. Gotta go to school for years for a job that you’d be lucky to get. I mean, any sort of higher learning outside of high school just drains you of any money you’d hope to have. I still have three more years to go, and I have to skip meals sometimes simply because I don’t have enough money for groceries.” He offered forth a small smile, one that hid the distress underneath. He took a hand, and waved it behind him towards the emptiness of his room, as if to verify his point. “Rough world, over here. Hopefully, the nation of weird colorful unicorns has a better government.”

        Lyra had no idea what he was talking about. Equestria was the total opposite. While they didn’t exactly have anything there called “college”, most ponies found it quite easy to support themselves. Jobs were actually very easy to come by. If somepony had a talent in something that they merely couldn’t send in an application for, they’d just start a business themselves. Ponies with certain talents are hard to come by, when you’re looking. The possibility of being hired is terribly high, even if you have little experience. They’d just teach you on the job if you didn’t know something.

        Lyra felt a small tinge of guilt course through her veins.

        Stanley took one look at Lyra, and held up his forearms again as if to plead to her. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to be like that,” he said. For some reason, he plastered that same smile on his face from before. “Gotta work with what’ya got, am I right?”

        She nodded, and bit the bottom of her lip. Lyra wasn’t sure if she liked where the conversation was headed. It was taking an awkward turn that didn’t think she would be able to handle. It made her chest beat a little faster, and she had to take large, subtle breathes through her nose in order to keep from freaking out.

        Stanley didn’t appear to notice. “I must be talking your ears off, sorry about that,”
        
        “Sorry,” Lyra said automatically. She blushed when she realized her mistake, and Stanley’s odd look. “I-I-I m-mean…”

        Stanley smiled at her, a notion that didn’t make Lyra feel any better in the slightest. “You’re not much of a talker are you?”

        Lyra was horrified to find that her cheeks reddened further—tenfold. She looked down at the floor, and visibly trembled. Stanley reached back, and scratched the back of his neck with a silly grin on his face. “Eheh, perhaps that was a bad question to ask,” he laughed.

        Silence. Nothing but the quietness of their rooms filled their ears. The melancholic moment where the tranquility was one of the most eloquent forces between the two aliens. Lyra, from her position, could still see outside the window. It was cracked a bit, but it was still pitch black outside of her homestead. A small wind would protrude through it, and float through her messy mane. Lyra wondered if, by chance, somepony could see the light from down below. Perhaps it some like some kind of beacon that projected its light across the entire world.

        “Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Not being a talker must mean that you’re a good listener, right? That’s always a good quality to have,” Stanley explained, running that weird appendage on the end of his foreleg through his hair. That claw type thing.

        Lyra maneuvered her head up and down. Stanley’s eyes fell towards the ground, like the gears inside of his head were turning. 

“Well, you still seem like a pretty nice unicorn thing,” he said, turning his gaze back towards her. The light of his glass ball bounced off of his teeth. Lyra didn’t know what made her eye nervously twitch—the compliment, how awkwardly he phrased the sentence, or how odd it was to hear him say the assortment of words the way he did. Either way, Lyra didn’t say a word. She hated blushing. It revealed too much, made her feel more self-conscious than she already was. Lyra listened as the words poured out of his mouth like sand. “Even though this whole thing is still weird as shit, at least we each made a new friend out of it, right?”

Lyra felt her joints, her muscles, her brain, lock up once again. Her eyes suddenly felt dry, and it scratched her lids every time she blinked. Her felt her entire heart drop with the same power of a mountain being dropped off the edge of space. Something tickled her inside of her chest, like there was a feather stuck in her ribcage. Lyra completely forgot about her nervousness for a brief moment, as her mouth parted just slightly. Her tongue was gooey, and soft.

“Y-You…we’re f-friends?” Lyra repeated in astonishment. Her eyes were the size of pinpricks, and she bent her foreleg and leaned forward a few millimeters. She wasn’t entirely sure if she had heard him correctly. 

A playful grin adorned Stanley’s calmed features. “Of course,” he announced. “After all, you can’t talk to someone you find interesting and then not end up becoming friends. It’d just be cruel!” Wide, kind eyes stared back at Lyra from behind his square glasses. Lyra was almost sure she could see her reflection in them.

Lyra’s mouth was still open. As soon as she realized her tightly wound muscles and joints, they almost immediately went slack. 

“I...I…” Lyra stuttered. This time, the words were lodged in her throat for a different reason, afraid to leave due to another kind of fear that Lyra was completely foreign to. The feeling was similar to an icepick being jabbed through her gut, but it was in a new way that Lyra wanted to laugh at. 

Stanley sniggered. “Hey, what’s wrong? Am I not good eno-- ”

Then that was it.

The glass ball just… shut off. It was like a light switch had just been flipped, her room was once again covered in the darkness that the night painstakingly returned to her. Another bout of silence came forth, teasing Lyra’s eardrums with cursed promises and wondrous lies. Lyra could still see the faint image of Stanley slowly disappear from behind her eyes. In front of them, she was staring incredulously at the glass ball only a few feet in front of her. It had returned back to its pretty, transparent self. 

It was nothing had ever happened.

“I…” Lyra couldn’t keep herself from repeating it. She was so close to speaking up, and saying something concerning their new friendship. But alas, she was too late. No longer afraid—seeing as the ball had miraculously went silent—she hesitantly took a few steps closer. One leg after another, through the blackening din of her room, she made her way over to the ball.

As she stood in front of it, she frowned. She brought up one of her hooves, and gently tapped it on the tippy-top of the glass ball. It made a small “ping!” noise, and nothing else. 

For some reason, the glass ball had simply turned off.

Lyra let out a small whimper at the mere idea. She was so close. She had no idea that she would have found an acquaintance  inside a monster tonight. She had no idea what to say, or do, now that Stanley was gone. She had no idea why she felt just a little more happy than she would have preferred.

But, none of it mattered now.

Stanley was gone.

The only light that filtered itself through the darkness was that of the alarm clock next to her bed.

It read 12:20 AM. But Lyra didn’t care. It wasn’t sure if she’d be getting any sleep anyways.