//------------------------------// // Amnesia // Story: Lone Colt // by Thunder Seethe //------------------------------// Lone Colt Thunder Seethe Special Thanks: AppleMLP < Editor Follow me at my: Page ========================================================================= Ch. 3 The Perfect Day "Look... I don't care about that. I mean, I do... but I don't. Just... Just don't do it again. Here, take some bits." She went through her bag then laid out whatever she seemed to snatch. A gold bit, three silver, and eight brown. One hundred-sixty eight bits... I'm not taking this. No. I don't want to be accounted with such money. I refuse to take such an offer. "Take it. Please." I think... it's time for me to go. "Not until you take this. Please, my family's rich anyway. Just do it!" Why are you so persistent? It's aggravating, and nonsensical! "Because I- just... never mind then." She hastily moved up as tears started to form in her eyes. She threw the bits at me as she galloped away crying. As much as I hated to do this, it was mandatory. If I didn't do this, I will become soft. I can't let that happen. It'll be a loss, and followed by a series of those episodes. I will become weak, I will be... I am alone. ========================================================================= Ten Years Later ========================================================================= I don't know why I'm still here. I have forgotten why this place was so special. The same bench I have been using is already corrupt, and yet. I still live in this dying state. I haven't moved anywhere. I have mastered the art of thievery and deceiving. I live on dirty money, but probably better than any other ludicrous slavery. I have a reputation on the streets for doing jobs that most ponies couldn't do. Simple things. Raiding an enemy gang, stealing from the rich, giving to the poor, and reuniting those who hate each other. My life is full of making one life happy, and make the others suffer. I am proud of it. I enjoy it. It's a lifestyle, and a vow. A creed, no. It's more of a hobby that gives you money and respect from the anonymous. I'm good at it, it is a talent, it is a job, it is a hobby. It's a unique life, only because it's mines. I have grown. I still have the same attributes. I have been built for the worst. This golden bit... I don't remember where it came from. I just never spent it. I kept it, and well... it became my good luck token. I took it with me everywhere I went. Whether it be an assignment, or me being myself. I don't know the meaning of kindness. I don't want to know it, it'll make me weak in this cruel world. Kindness are for the ponies who befriend others so they can create a group, like a mediocre alliance that doesn't do anything. They claim they are the true beings, and we are the weak ones. When they themselves are unable to fend for themselves. Knowledge is power. What is it when you combine it with physical strength? It is nothing. No two could solely exist between one entity. Not only is it profanity, it is factual. You're either one, or the other. Then there are ponies like me. We know how to get around, we aren't intelligent. We are adept, which I'd suppose is slightly below mastery. We know what to say, when to say it. We're the best liars, we won't be caught. Alternatively, the victim of this crude way will be entangled in a never ending circle of lies. They will be stuck in the labyrinth being drove into each and every dead end. Ponies like me, tend to not forget. We are good with words. We are sly. We are the unforgiving, the relentless without the physical force. Ponies like me... are the worst kind of ponies. We enjoy that title, and we live that title. We own it. "There is no such thing as forgetting. We live them as fragmentations of our daily lives. We live them, we seek them. But, we already have them. Now we just have to put them together." - Thunder Seethe