Lyra didn’t sleep at all that night.
It was to be expected. After all, there was no reason for her to sleep peacefully. Her mind was contorted and warped by the sheer madness of the previous night. The things she saw were permanently etched into her memories, like somepony had just took a sharpie to her brain. Lyra had physically felt her consciousness break inside of her skull, the unholy cracking sound that was almost as horrid as the sounds that the gun had made the night previous.
She felt sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t vomit anymore. There was nothing else she could do. That hopeless, sinking feeling was drowning her in a pit of her own emotions. Everything about her just reeked of sadness, and she wanted so desperately to take an eraser to her brain.
Lyra spent the rest of the night on the bathroom floor, with the scene that came from the demonic glass ball replaying through her mind like a spinning record set for repeat. Not five seconds would pass by before the sight of the dead human would make its way through her mind, or maybe the sound of the gun, and sometimes even the thought of the fates of the two children who had tried to run away from that murderer. It was a neverending cycle that only added on to her loneliness and depression that filled her heart like a dark void.
She didn’t want to do anything, say anything, or more anymore. Her bathroom floor was her domain that night, where her mind crossed into places that made her physically sick, and mentally ill. Her normally golden eyes were now pits full of scorpions and ants. Instead of piercing through the room with its usual charismatic glow, it was nothing more than a dying flashlight now. The bags underneath her orbs were glowing more apparent, but she hadn’t stood up in a while. She couldn’t bear the idea of looking at herself in the mirror.
The chill of the bathroom floor was her blanket, covering her in a false sense of security and understanding that Lyra was simply too bothered to ignore. Everything hurt. Her face, her stomach, her chest, her head, nothing was safe from those horrible feelings that were plaguing her like a fatal disease.
She wanted nothing to do with that glass ball anymore. But at the same time, she knew deep inside that she would never do such a thing as get rid of it. On the first night, it gave her hope. It gave her a tiny shred of promise that gave her confidence, and sealed over the cracks in Lyra’s inner wishes that she was unable to fix herself. The second night brought nothing but torment and haunting images that paled her face at the mere thought. That glass ball did nothing but fiddle with her mind, and whatever sanity she harbored left in various different clever ways.
Lyra didn’t know what to do. She wished and prayed for somepony to tell her what to do, even though that idea was long gone, albeit for another twelve or so days. She begged for guidance and a somepony to hold her while she cried. Her outermost body pleaded for nothing but consolation, or some kind of motherly touch to caress her and coo into her ears words of love and direction.
She wanted Bon Bon, and the idea that Lyra was still going to be alone through it all was enough to make the mare want to wail just one more time. Her throat hurt so bad though, having spent the entire night crying and sobbing her eyes out. By the time 8 AM had rolled around, there was nothing left. Her tears ducts were dry, and there was a small puddle on the floor next to her face. She just couldn’t cry anymore, and she hadn’t moved a single muscle in her aching body. Her mind was completely lost inside itself, or it might have been better to say that she was looking for a way out of the maze that was her brain, looking for a way back to sanity.
She snapped out of it eventually. It was a terrifying moment, when her eyes finally focused on the area around her. It was like her entire being had just been transported, and she was just shaking off the initial shock. Her eyes were on fire. It was unfortunate how she had failed to blink for a while, and the first time she did she felt like somepony was scraping sandpaper over her eyes.
Lyra let out an aggravated cry, and lifted a hoof up to her throbbing eyeballs. Surely, they were red anyways. She tried to raise herself from her position on the floor, but almost immediately she found herself back on the ground, chest against the tiles below. Her legs, were horribly weakened, and felt like they were reconstructed with tissue paper. She hadn’t moved in so long that her legs had completely quit on her.
Unfortunately, she had lost all of her will to lie there on the bathroom floor. She refused. She’d wallowed in despair long enough, and she was going to try her best to be strong. Lyra would simply not let the events of what had occurred irk or shift her feels and emotions anymore. She wasn’t going crazy. She wasn’t going to let herself go crazy. She had grieved all night, leaving her in that of a mess.
But she just had to get up. Nopony was around to coerce her. Lyra had to do it herself. She was being weak again, and shouldn’t be.
She would never wipe the memory of what she saw last night out of her mind. The female, Eric, Levi, Walker, would all be manifesting inside inside of her brain for the rest of her life. However, she couldn’t let it hinder her. She couldn’t lie there forever. She shook her head, pathetically, and waited a minute for her legs to regain their strength and feeling.
She had to be okay. It was just her, now.
Again.
It was as if, somehow, she was given purpose. Like somepony had just gifted wrapped her strength and vigor. It was like the weight was slowly being lifted from her shoulders, like she could finally breathe. While it might have been some kind of adrenaline, or maybe she just realized that she knew, at some point, she was going to have to pick herself off the bathroom floor and continue living in ways that those three humans did not. The mere thought of lying there any longer was simply unimaginable.
It took Lyra a while to, actually, work up the ability to move around. It started with a small flick of her tail and ears. It was like somepony was consistently releasing its grip on her, letting her go free. Her mind quickly started to clear itself, and soon all the mare could do was let out a depressed sigh. Completely unaware that she was recovering from some kind of massive mental breakdown, she soon found it in her ability to actually stand up. It was a foreign feeling, like she hadn’t done it in a matter of a hundred years—frozen in ice that was destined to never melt.
However, when she did finally rise to her hooves, she shook her head. The dizziness that threatened her proved more annoying than anything. The frown of her face proved the previous sentence false.
Lyra wiped the tears from her pretty face. She was still afraid to look towards the mirror, and had to compel herself to just let it be. After all, she was all alone. She wasn’t going to see or talk to anypony today anyways. Why should she care how terrible she looked?
The loneliness, the dreaded emptiness that withered away her drying bones was stripping and tearing away at every inch of her head. But, as Lyra took a few steps out of the bathroom, head towards the floor, the tired mare could only let out a sigh. She was glad she had cried, and… well, freaked out the way she had. She got it out of her system. She was able to successfully let go of the emotions that she had bottled up for so long. At least, from then on, she could start to feel better. With enough time, everypony will forget. It just depended on the pony itself.
Lyra found herself standing in her hallway, hardly able to recognize the world around her anymore. Even though it was currently early in the morning, everything felt and looked horrendously dark. There was hardly any light coursing through her home, the dominating darkness doing a victory dance around her body. She could feel it settle, resulting in her letting out a lame sigh.
As hungry as she was, there was absolutely no way that she was going to be able to force herself to eat. The thought of breakfast food sliding down her gullet was purely disgusting, almost causing her to retch entirely. She was going to have to, somehow, coerce herself. The rumbling inside of her emptied belly was too painful and apparent to ignore. Lyra worked up the courage, as well as the strength, to make her way down the hall—towards the kitchen.
Everything was the exact same way she left it. It was all exceptionally shiny and well kept, her boredom leading her to spend a bit of her time yesterday cleaning. Well, only about an hour. She could still faintly smell the of the lemon-scented cleaner in the air. She barely paid attention though, choosing to slog through with her head held low once again. Her hooves underneath the soft carpet felt like nails.
Upon arriving in the kitchen, Lyra found it harder than she ever imagined to keep basic foods down. While she was successful in eating a banana, an apple, and a glass of orange juice, she was fairly certain that she felt worse off because of it. For a little while, she believed that she was going to have to make a second trip to the bathroom, and empty her stomach once again. But, after a few minutes, her belly felt just a little bit better, and she felt a small tinge of pride course its way through her aching chest.
She felt stronger, but she was just having trouble realizing. The only thing she could note, however, was that she was much more tired than she had originally thought. The weights that adorned her eyelids weren’t there just a moment ago, urging the mare to let out a heavy yawn that popped her jaw.
Her body was calling for sleep. It was a subtle notion, like a puppy nipping at her mother’s heels. The living room couch was in sight, and Lyra decided to make that her destination. With a small exhale, she dragged herself out of the kitchen, and practically flopped herself onto the couch with a bit more weight than she intended. While the couch itself was sturdy and strong, the force brought forth by Lyra’s flop caused it to lightly creak underneath her body. Though, she couldn’t be bothered with that right now.
Lyra closed her eyes almost immediately, the sweet embrace of it all tickling her fractured brain. For a moment, the notion was highly pleasurable, until she made the mistake of letting her mind wander as she tried to sleep.
Inside her mind, the scene replayed itself again. For the umpteeth time in the last few hours. And, just like that, her bloodshot eyes fluttered open again. The thought of the poor female, who had done nothing wrong, dead on the floor. The mere idea of the two children, dead, lying on the other side of the room as they tried their best to escape. While Lyra didn’t actually see if they had successfully left the house, and while they very well could have, her mind was entirely pessimistic towards it. The scene was all she saw, over and over again.
Eventually, though. Soon enough the mare found her body and mind relaxing, as she mentally pushed the visions out of her brain. It was a slow progress, but she felt that, sometime in the near future, she just might be able to go through her daily life without that constant thought poking holes into her consciousness.
It wasn’t like she could have done anything back there, anyways. She would have ended up dead as well.
Their deaths weren’t her fault or doing.
As she pondered that thought, contemplating if what she had just told herself was true, Lyra began to drift off into a much needed sleep—hopefully void of any murder or humans.
By the time that Lyra had awoken, she was so confused that for a brief moment her brain had ceased to function.
When her residual grogginess had finally began to leave her body an undetermined amount of time later, Lyra felt better. Her heart wasn’t as heavy as before, and her body felt like it was back to its normal self. Her stomach and throat weren’t killing her, and she could actually note the amount of strength she had. It was like nothing had even happened. She hadn’t broken down, cried, and witnessed what she did. Actually, for a while, she completely forgot about it. It didn’t last long, but at least it didn’t stick in her mind like usual, and threaten to drive her crazy.
The living room was pitch black, as expected and usual. Normally, the light that filtered in from the slide door would be plenty enough to keep the entirety of the room lit. Lyra raised her head, and looked outside. It was nighttime. How long have I slept? she wondered, as she scanned through the darkness surrounding her. There was a clock ticking away somewhere in front of her, but Lyra was unable to see it. With the blackness making her increasingly nervous, Lyra slid off the couch, and meandered over to the wall where the light switch was located. After groping and feeling up the wall for what felt like ages, she felt her hoof scratch something. Not even two seconds later, the living room was engulfed in a sea of light.
Lyra squinted as she waited for her eyes to adjust. The room was still the same, but it still felt a bit different to her. She turned to look at the clock, and practically dropped her jaw.
It was 7:21 pm.
She had slept for roughly eleven hours.
Lyra had to watch the clock for a few minutes as her mind processed just what exactly that meant. Never, ever, had she slept for that long before. She was never the one to sleep in, always rising after no more than nine hours of sleep. But… eleven? For her, that was unheard of.
“I must’ve been....” Lyra started, slowly, “...more tired than I thought.” While Lyra mused, she felt a bit proud of herself at the same time. She was already almost done with the third day. After tomorrow, she’d only have ten days left until Bon Bon’s return, when things would finally be okay again. The only problem now, was the fact that she was awake.
Yes. She was going to be up all night, since she slept all day. Lyra didn’t like the idea of that. She turned, and looked down the hallway. She could feel the glass ball calling her, but she was still skeptical. She hated it. She despised that glass ball for showing her what it did. However, she couldn’t ignore the fact that it connected her to Stanley, her new friend. She still wanted to talk to him, tell him what she saw and knew.
Lyra heaved another sigh, and made her way for her bedroom, towards the ball. She was going to have to be strong, and persistent if she wanted to talk to Stanley again. What if she didn’t wait for the ball to connect, and missed him? Lyra just couldn’t take that risk. She would wait by that ball for as long as she needed to, as long as she got the chance to see him again.
While there was a thought that it may never connect with him again, Lyra refused to believe that was true.
Lyra scampered into her room, definately more quickly than usual, and opened the door. She turned on the light, and rested her eyes on the glass ball on the dresser. It almost seemed to stare back at her, like it had a mind of its own. She didn’t like it, and felt a small shiver run through her body.
So, with that, she walked over to it. Making her way rather slowly, she sat her rump down on the floor right in front of the small dresser where it called home. She raised a hoof, and gently poked the ball with the tip of her hoof.
“H-How do you work again…?” she asked. Lyra still had no idea just what caused the ball to start working. On the first night, Lyra distinctly remembered that she was woken up at exactly 12:01 am. She hadn’t looked last night, unfortunately. “M-Maybe you only t-turn on late at night?” Even though Lyra was talking to an inanimate object, the notion of talking to something was still so foreign that she couldn’t help but stutter.
Either way, Lyra knew that she was going to have to wait. At this point in time, she guessed that the ball’s workings were time related. She’d test out the theory tonight. Lyra frantically snapped her head around her room, as she pondered for something to do to occupy her time for a few hours.
Something.
Anything.
All she wanted was to see her new friend. Lyra was praying inside of her mind that, tonight, that would be the case.
After a few hours, Lyra could honestly say her drawing skills have drastically increased ever since Bon Bon’s departure.
After literally hours of practicing, she was having horrible trouble coming up with ideas for things to draw. Having drawn portraits of herself using the hoofmirror located in her dresser—and random things that came to mind, such as Stanley, her house, Bon Bon, and interesting trees and woodland areas, she was starting to take a little bit of pride in her work. After all, before she started she had the artistic ability of a small foal. Now it was actually possible to decipher just what she was trying to draw in the first place. She had never really taken drawing very seriously, but that was because she knew she was terrible at it. Hey… it’s a start, right?
She was actually a bit shocked, when she discovered that the clock was quickly rearing 11:30 pm. Lyra looked up, at the glass ball in front of her. So far, it still hadn’t given any sign of it turning on any time soon. Though, she was growing more and more excited. She knew it would turn on soon. Just a matter of time, and she’d be talking to her friend again. That, or… well… she’d get connected to somepony else. Lyra didn’t want to think about that. Surely the ball wasn’t cruel enough to show her something similar as to what happened last night, right? She was simply… connected, to the wrong ball. Pure happenstance, she believed. As long as Stanley’s prediction—as well as a mix of her own—was correct, after all.
Lyra set aside her crayons and pieces of paper for the time being. She was going to start being patient, now. She locked her eyes on the glass ball in front of her, and simply waited. Her rump was beginning to get sore, so she opted to occasionally shifting her weight so she wouldn’t lose most of the feeling in it.
It was at this point that time seemed to drag on. Every time that Lyra turned back to look at the clock, only a few minutes had passed. During the time, she had gotten up, and turned off her bedroom light. She turned on a small lamp, however it barely did its job of lighting up the room.
Sooner or later, Lyra’s patience began to pay off. She turned around at the clock, one last time, some odd minutes later. It was exactly midnight. Her heart skipped a beat, but she wasn’t sure if it was in a good way or not. Perhaps it was some kind of trepidation, as the small thought of what she was actually doing floated through her mind like a sailboat caught in a horrible storm.
She was unable to change her mind now. Where did her confidence go? She had it right with her, just a few minutes ago. Why was she breathing all hard again? Why was she slowly beginning another one of her shaking fits? Why did her eye begin to twitch?
Lyra made a very, very bad mistake.
Her eyes widened. Her golden orbs were tiny, like the size of an ant, as the glass ball slowly began to illuminate.
At first, it was hardly noticeable. It was as if something inside the ball was slowly starting to come to life. The light at first was very dim, and frankly Lyra couldn’t see anything. Just a small source of light that started to come from the strange glass ball before her. But, eventually, it started to grow. The more the light grew, the more Lyra’s eyes followed. For some reason, it was growing much brighter than what it had the last two nights, making Lyra fear the worst.
What am I doing…? Lyra thought. Why? Why did I do this? I… I…
She was already tempted to bolt.
Too late.
The light was steadily growing in front of her. Lyra’s pulse was rising, and her chest was pounding at dangerous speeds. It didn’t take very long for something inside the ball to take shape, and for it to inevitably connect with another.
The first thing she heard was light sobbing. It was hardly noticeable, but Lyra was absolutely sure. She could hear the crying, as it seemed to echo throughout her entire room as if it was being played through a large speaker. It was undeniable, and for some reason, very infectious. The sound made Lyra want to shake even harder than she actually was.
After another twenty seconds, Lyra could finally see. Inside the glass ball, she saw a room. The walls were decorated a bright pink, like that of hearts and strawberry ice cream. It was a pretty shade that Lyra actually adored. She didn’t dwell on it. She must have been in some kind of bedroom. In the corner of the room, was a vanity that adorned make-up products—whose brand's she didn’t know very well—a large mirror, and some other things that she couldn’t exactly see. She was far away. While Lyra only ever wore make-up when she was onstage performing—and even then no one saw her—she was oddly unfamiliar with it. It wasn’t as if she went outside all that often, or had a reason to look good. Lyra wanted to sigh, but her nervousness was still keeping her at bay.
The room seemed standard. There was a white closet door, and a small desk that harbored some kind of large contraption with a huge screen—perhaps some kind of arcade machine? There appeared to be something located near it that had a lot of small buttons. Lastly, the was a white and rosy colored rug on the floor. The room was very feminine, indeed. It looked like it would belong to a little filly. Since the glass ball didn’t appear to be moving at all, Lyra presumed that the ball was placed on some kind of shelf, stationary, like last night.
There was a bed, on the other corner of the room adjacent from the vanity. It, too, was a bright pink. However, there was something on the bed. Lyra couldn’t exactly tell how big it was, as the glass had the tendency to distort her depth perception. It didn’t take her long to realize what it was.
It was another human. Lyra couldn’t see it’s face. It was sitting cross legged on the bed, facing away from the glass ball. It was hunched over. Its cries were getting louder, as time seemed to go on. It had a long brown mane that slid down its back. No doubt, it was a female. Judging by the way it was doubled over, it must’ve been crying into her claws-like appendages.
Lyra felt insanely awkward, and this time with good reason. She was watching another being cry her eyes out in front of her. She was getting that feeling again, the one that was telling her to run away. Lyra could feel her inner dread growing, and her nervousness rising steadily along with it. She couldn’t handle interaction, and that included some of her own feelings and emotions. Seeing the female express hers, while Lyra only watched, was absolutely terrifying and unpleasant.
Lyra couldn’t move. She was stuck to that one place, her rump still plastered on the floor like she was a mere toy that was thrown aside. Her throat was beginning to tighten once again.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed exactly, but it had certainly been at least a few minutes. Lyra, in her state of fear, hadn’t blinked the entire time. She was afraid to take her eyes off the human. Her spheres hurt as a result, but she didn’t want to risk it. What if she was a monster? What if she was just like Walker?
But… do monsters cry?
As if on cue, after finishing that thought, the female let out a small sigh. It was a noise what startled the wits out of Lyra. She let out a small whine, one that she immediately regretted afterwards. Why a small sigh caused her to squeal, and not the sound of gunshots the last night, was a complete mystery. The female most definitely heard, poking her head up and out of her claws.
Lyra’s eyes were practically bulging. Please don’t notice me, please t-tell me she didn’t hear…
Her hopes were in vain, as the female snapped her head back, towards the ball. Her hair whisked around, softly, like it was dancing on air. Even though Lyra was clenching her jaw, tempted to run out of her room entirely, she just couldn’t. The area’s underneath the female’s rather beautiful green eyes were black. Normally, this would have scared Lyra to death, if she hadn’t noticed all the make-up on the vanity earlier. The female had a lovely face, one that quickly started to calm Lyra’s quaking heart. Though, she didn’t get that good of a look. The female turned her head back, and grabbed a small tissue from a nightstand near her bed. She wiped her face and eyes, methodically and swiftly.
She forced a smile on her face, turning towards Lyra after she was finished. The smeared make-up was now gone, and her eyes almost shone in the light of the room. She stood up, and started to make her way for the glass ball.
Lyra staggered back. It was a pure instinct. Though it hadn’t happened yet, the sight of a would-be monster making her way towards her didn’t help her fear of the beast reaching through the ball, and killing her. Or worse, dragging her through. In the end, Lyra was now a few feet from the glass ball.
The female pulled out a chair, and sat herself down. She wore a shirt the color of honey, and it bore some kind of logo that Lyra wasn’t able to read. Then again, she wasn’t really trying to. The female’s smile was still plastered on her face. Her gorgeous eyes were a little red, but the being was still smiling at her, like she hadn’t been caught crying just a moment ago.
For some reason, the female’s looks helped calm Lyra down just a little bit more. That smile was relaxing, and soon Lyra’s shivering body came to a stop. Lyra was still ready to bolt at any given time, though. She was very aware that the female could just be lulling her into a false sense of security. She hadn’t seen just what the female humans were like.
Please, tell me she’s nice, Lyra prayed. Don’t let her be a monster…
“So…” The female’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat and wiped something out of the corner of her eye. “Uh, how long have you been sitting there…?”
Lyra didn’t say anything. She just gawked at the female with large, pleading eyes. The human simply stared at her, waiting for a reply that she would never get. After a few awkward seconds, it was apparent that nothing would happen unless Lyra opened her mouth, and spoke. She couldn't bear the silence anymore.
“J-J-Just a few m-minutes…” She forced herself to say. She was finding it more and more difficult to keep from childishly rocking herself as she sat.
“Oh,” she said. Lyra couldn’t tell if her cheeks grew pink because of her embarrassment, or because she had been crying. She didn’t want to know. “Er, sorry you had to see that. Why didn’t you speak up?”
This time, Lyra kept her mouth closed for a different reason. Her brain just couldn’t come up with an answer. The female didn’t seem to want to wait very long for a reply. “Well, maybe that’s why,” the female said, giving forth an obviously fake laugh. “Trust me, I was shocked when I started doing this thing to. Lemme guess, you found a ball, right?”
Lyra’s heart stopped at the mentioning of the accursed orb. The female seemed to have noticed, her smile growing just slightly in size.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Found this bad boy just three-ish days ago. Had to wipe all the dirt off of it.” Three days? Lyra recalled. Did… everyone find this ball at the same exact time, or was it just a coincidence? “Yeah, anyways, sorry you had to see me bawl like a baby back there," she said. "You’re new, the first unicorn I’ve seen. A few other creatures mentioned you existed. Never talked to one, though.”
Lyra stayed absolutely silent. She was being bombarded with new information that she just couldn’t process fast enough. The female talked like she’d given the speech before. Lyra was going to ask out loud, but she didn’t have the courage. Did that mean that the humans were connecting to different ponies every night? Did that mean that she wasn’t the only one that had one of these glass balls?
Her head was starting to hurt. She was unable to comprehend what the female was telling her. The being herself cocked an eyebrow. “You okay? You look like you’re gonna have a panic attack.”
Lyra lied, and gave the female a small nod. The female sure was talkative, and the mare wasn’t quite sure if she particularly liked that quality.
“Sorry. That’s probably my fault. I’ll just, uh, not bring it up anymore,” said the female, who sniffled just a little bit. Lyra wanted to know more, but at the same time, she was unsure if she could handle it.
So, it’s not just me. It’s like… speed dating, but with humans and ponies from all over…
Lyra’s eye twitched with fright, and misunderstanding. Previous to this, she had no idea how it worked. She never thought about the possibility that other ponies might be talking to these humans too, and vice versa. She assumed it was just her. Lyra couldn’t help but wonder who, but that didn’t exactly matter, because the female started talking again.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” the female coughed suddenly. She looked at something to her right, and let out a small sigh, as if whatever she saw bothered her, and made her want to tear up again. Lyra knew she was being lied to, but she didn’t care. “I’m Caroline. I figured that this whole glass ball thing would be a great opportunity, you know? Meet some new creatures, take my mind off'a things. Won’t be long until I’ll have this taken away anyways. What’s your name?” The female’s eyes were wet once again.
Lyra broke the gaze, unable to witness the torment inside the girls eyes. She shifted herself, so that she could look at the ground instead. Lyra shared her name with the female, albeit just barely. She still couldn’t hold back her stutter. Lyra's stuttering was the least of Caroline's concerns.
“Hey, that’s neat. I have a friend with that name,” she said. Lyra simply gave the female a curt nod. It was very difficult to determine just how old she was, but she was certainly a little older than Stanley. Suddenly, Caroline frowned. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to talk to me?”
Lyra was so startled by the question, that all that came out was a pathetic squealing noise. While, yes, she did want to make friends, she wasn’t sure about this female yet. She was still lying to her, holding back emotions that were plain as day. It bothered Lyra, and made her feel just a little bit worse. Instead, she forced herself to open her mouth, and let the words pour through. “W-w-why were y-you c-c-crying?”
Slowly, very slowly, the smile from Caroline’s face began to disappear. This conversation was progressing too fast, far too quickly, and Lyra wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore. It was if Lyra’s words were the final nails in a coffin. Nothing but pure hurt resided on the female’s pretty face. Lyra gulped. “No reason. It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it,” said Caroline. Had her tone not been so downtrodden, Lyra just might have believed her.
Lyra returned Caroline’s frown, and turned back towards the ground. She was actually surprised when the female kept speaking, after another moment's pause. “Just, things I have going on,” she said, with a smile. She used her claw to remove some of her mane out of her face. She tucked it behind her ear, showing a bit more of her rosy cheeks. “You gotta lover, Lyra?”
The blush that painted the poor mare’s was enough to make a ruby jealous. The blood practically made a bee-line for her cheeks, heating her up in a fashion that she, still, didn’t like. Lyra stammered, making a few weird noises as she tried to find a way to respond to the rather direct question.
“U-Uhm… n-n-no…” Lyra barely managed to utter. Caroline let out a small huff of air, as if the answer amused her in some way. She looked away from a brief moment, back to something to her right, but she quickly fixed her eyes back on Lyra. That same smile riddled her face.
“Pro tip. Don’t,” she said, in a sweetly aggressive manner. Lyra couldn’t help but furrow her own brow. “Does bad things to a girl. You seem kind. It'd be a shame if you were to get your heart broken.”
Lyra stayed silent. She didn’t quite know what to say. Obviously, Lyra had never been in a relationship in her life. It only added to her loneliness. Sometimes, she’d have dreams where she fell in love, but even they didn’t last very long. It was a depressing thought, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think about it every now and then. She did hope to settle down with a nice stallion at some point in her life. Though, as the years come and go, Lyra started to lose her grip on that goal.
Caroline still insisted on talking, but Lyra didn’t mind. Perhaps Stanley was correct in saying that she was just a good listener. Even though Caroline’s eyes were still brimming with tears, she still forced that same attractive smile on her face. “It hurts. It takes you, and twists you apart. I just… well, lost my boyfriend. After two years, he just up and left,” she said.
Lyra frowned, but still didn’t quite know how to respond. Consolation was most certainly not one of her strong suits. She couldn’t even rest a hoof on the female’s shoulder or anything. Once again, she felt completely useless. “I-I-I’m sorry t-to hear t-that…” Lyra stammered. Though the words came out odd, she was being sincere.
Caroline’s smile didn’t falter. Lyra wasn’t sure if she would rather the female stop lying to herself and stop crying, or not. “Thanks. I don’t even know what I did wrong. He lied, but… well, you do get good things out of it. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, you’ll never know ‘til the end. But, whatever,” Caroline said.
“I-I-I’m sorry h-he… hurt y-you?” Lyra said. Honestly, she was still surprised that she was talking so much. Caroline merely stared at her for a minute, her smile fading for a second, before its joyful return just a second later.
“Thank you,” Caroline looked to her right, once again, alternating glances between Lyra and whatever it was she was gazing at. During that moment, her smile actually felt genuine. “Would… you like to see what I gained of it, though?”
Lyra didn’t understand. She quickly became confused. She cocked her head just a bit, as she tried to decide if she wanted to say yes or no. Caroline, almost as eager as ever, decided for the mare. She leaned way over to her right, and proceeded to pick something up. Unfortunately, Lyra couldn’t see from her view, but she was being very careful with it, treating whatever she went to grab delicately, like it was a mere butterfly. She could hear soft whispers coming from Caroline, almost soft coos.
It was a wonder how Lyra didn’t catch on before she actually saw it.
In Caroline’s forelegs, she held a baby.
The female cradled it, affectionately. She supported its head, as stared down at it lovingly, tenderly, amazingly. The little tyke was smiling, just as brightly as its mother, and holding its little stubby forelegs out as if he was trying to reach out and touch Caroline’s face. The baby even had beautiful green eyes, just like the female.
Lyra was simply awestruck. She had never contemplated a human baby before. Her past experience with the humans haven’t allowed her to think about such a thing. But now, one was right in front of her, giggling and babbling away like a gift from above. It was absolutely adorable, and Lyra couldn’t help but smile. The baby didn’t seem to notice Lyra, though. The mare herself always wanted kids, and for some reason, she wished that she was on the other side of the glass ball, so maybe she could even hold it.
In Caroline’s forelegs, she held a new beginning.
Caroline must have noticed the smile that adorned Lyra’s face, because she let out a deep chuckle. “His name is Tyler,” she said. Lyra’s heart wanted to melt, as her heart seemed to engulf itself in flames. “He’s my pride and joy, you know.”
“H-He’s…” Lyra started, struggling to think of the word without being offensive in some way. “S-So small…”
“Yep,” Caroline replied, looking up from the small child in her hands. He was so small, Lyra speculated that he was roughly the size of the ball that she was looking through. Though, she couldn’t be certain. “He has his father’s nose,” she added. Lyra’s smile quickly left her face as she remembered.
The father left them—left a young female and a baby by themselves. Lyra simply watched the little bundle of happiness, as he struggled to reach and play with his mother’s mane. Lyra struggled to imagine why a father would ever leave his lover and newborn child by themselves. “At least I have him. I’m not all alone. He’ll be with me for a long time, and that’s a certainty. I’ll love him with the intensity of two parents,” she said, staring into Lyra’s eyes. The mare didn’t like it, but she pretended to ignore it by keeping her eyes on Tyler. “This little fella filled every single hole his father created. So, while I’m still sad, I believe that I now have a better reason to stay strong. You know what I mean?”
Lyra nodded, slowly, as if she was in a trance. Lyra’s heart was melting over Tyler. She had no idea that her smile was the largest one that she had given in a while. Tyler, tilted his small head over, and finally took notice of the mare. Lyra froze, while the baby did the exact same. She didn’t quite know what to do, now that she’d been seen. While she didn’t feel quite that nervous anymore, she gave a bashful wave of her hoof.
There was another small pause, before Tyler erupted into a fit of amused giggles. Caroline couldn’t help but chuckle. “He also has my sense of humor, if you haven’t already noticed.”
“H-He’s cute,” Lyra admitted. Caroline simply nodded, as she began to bounce the bubbling baby in her arms, gently. Tyler seemed to be having a ball with it, laughing like, well, a baby.
He was…
...Beautiful.
Caroline turned to her left, and pushed out her bottom lip, like she was pouting. She turned back to Lyra with a small shrug. “It’s time to go. These connections only seem to last for about twenty minutes,” she said. Lyra did a double take. Before she knew what she was doing, she turned around to look at the clock, which read 12:19 am. Lyra turned back, with a horrendous frown.
She didn’t want the call to end. She wanted to listen to the joyful babblings on the very small child. She wanted to hear more from Caroline. It’s all she wanted.
“B-Before y-y-you go…” Lyra started, not believing that she was the one actually speaking. “D-Do you t-think w-we c-c-could be f-friends...?” she asked. Caroline brushed away some of her mane, as Tyler had accomplished his goal of trying to grab his mother’s hair. Instead of letting him tug at it, she just moved it aside, just out of the baby's reach. The female smiled, brightly.
“Of course, Lyra. I thought that was a given,” she said. Lyra’s heart rose a little bit in her chest, filling her with butterflies that pleaded to break free from her irritable stomach. Caroline turned back to what must have been a clock to her left, and spoke quickly. “It was nice to meet you. Have a good rest of your life,” she said, caringly.
Lyra gave the mother a nod, while deep inside she was begging the duo not to go—not to leave her. She didn’t want to be left alone again, not when she had just made another friend. Her dream was being fulfilled, but the cruel twist was so agonizing that it actually hurt her. “Y-You too…”
Caroline gave one last smile.
Tyler gave one last giggle, what must’ve been his version of a goodbye.
Lyra gave one small wave goodbye.
And then the glass ball turned off, ending Lyra’s only source of social interaction and insanity for the night. She was beginning to grow sick again, but she was hardly paying attention. She was starting to get used to the feeling.