//------------------------------// // Chapter Four: Just Another Brick // Story: Bricks in the Wall // by _NAME_ //------------------------------// Chapter Four Just Another Brick “He-hey Pinky!” My head jerked up at the sound of my nickname. One of my friends sat down beside me, his food tray hitting the table with a thud. “’Ello Short.” I replied, turning to face the aptly named pegasus beside me. “How’d class go?” My friend chuckled and spooned a glob of pudding from his tray. “You know Miss Beau, Pinky. Same as Sir, jus’ in mule form.” He turned his head, gesturing towards the far side of his face. “The bitch gave me this here shiner for asking how an ass like her managed to get a job.” The right side of his face was a nasty shade of purple and green. I winced sympathetically. What Shortchange the pegasus lacked in size he certainly made up for with arrogance. Ne’er a day went by when he didn't argue with his teachers. His insolence was a legend around the schoolyard. I snickered and slapped a hoof on his back. “Short, my friend, you are a downright bastard.” He shot me a wide grin and shoved a hunk of pudding into his mouth. He chewed it messily; half of it dribbling down his chest. I snorted. “Smooth, Short. Very attractive. It’s astonishing you don’t got a girl yet.” He jumped up in mock anger. “’Ey! S’not my fault I ain’t found anypony yet! You know I only got eyes for tha’ babe Rêves!” He nudged me playfully, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Jus’ like every other colt here.” He sat back down and without waiting for my response, and continued to eat. For a minute the only sounds I could hear were of him eating and the gentle murmurs of the other schoolfoals around us. After a moment’s hesitation I added. “…except me.” The tawny pegasus turned to me, head tilted in confusion. He popped the spoon out of his mouth. “But ya do, mate. Ya jus’ haven’t made your moves yet. Only boy here who hasn’t.” He nodded sagely. I shook my head, forlorn. “Short, she’s not interested in anypony! She’s shot down every colt at this here school! Even the taken ones asked!” “Yea, but not you, Pinky!” I looked at him incredulously. “Short, you - I - Would it put your mind at rest if I went over and asked her? Just so you can see she has no interest?” He bobbed his head. “Yeah. Yeah it would put my mind at rest, as ya so elegantly put it.” he said in a mocking voice. I punched him on his shoulder for his remark. “Fine. I will.” I stood up and looked for the stunning green of Rêves’ coat. I spotted her at a nearby table, chatting amicably with a few of her friends. “Fine.” I muttered again, suddenly tense. This would be no big deal. Just ask out the most beautiful filly in all Equestria to prove a point. I looked back at Short, who was watching me intensely. I gulped and nervously smoothed down my school uniform. I breathed out, letting go of my tension. Brushing a hoof through my mane, I began to trot towards her. As I approached, the fillies at the table giggled once and then went quiet. The mare of my affections sat turned away from me, and didn't notice my approach. Inaudibly, one of her friends, a rather posh looking white unicorn, directed Rêves’ attention towards me. I felt Short’s eyes following my every move. The forest green unicorn turned and looked at me. As I found myself face-to-face with her, my heart suddenly skipped a beat. I smiled weakly at her. “He – Hello, Rê - Reves…” Well, barely into the conversation, and I’d already butchered her name. I didn’t have high hopes. She smiled back just as feebly, as if she were nervous as well. “Bonjour, Pink.” Her titivating accent sent shivers down my spine. In fact, just the sight of her made my hair stand on end. We awkwardly stood like that for a moment, neither meeting the other’s gaze. Eventually I coughed lightly, breaking the tension. “So, err, Rêves… I was wondering if…” I took a deep breath, gathering my wits. “If you’d like to go out with me, sometime?” I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment and looked away. I could only imagine the amusement she and her friends would have later at my expense. I wasn’t sure why I was over here. Short’s aggravating shortsightedness caused me to act before thinking, ending me up in this situation. And I was normally the rational one in my group of friends. Suddenly I felt a hoof gingerly caress my face. Surprised, I flinched away and opened an eye. Rêves’ face was inches from mine. I could clearly see her eyes glistening with tears. She stroked my face again and smiled feebly. The courtyard went quiet. I could feel the attention of every colt and filly in attendance, and I slowly began feeling crowded by their gazes. “Oh, Oui, Pink! Yes! Oh, I had thought you would never ask!” Rêves said excitedly. She wrapped me in an embrace, still expressing her happiness. “Whaa…” My jaw opened in amazement. Had she…? No, she couldn’t have. But, she did… The silence broke. Hushed murmurings broke out from the surrounding tables. I began to sweat and darkness flickered at the edges of my vision. What had she just said? Did she agree!? Eventually she broke the hug and looked at me worriedly. “Err…Pink? Are you in there?” “I think he’s shocked, dear. Poor boy wasn’t expecting that, I suppose.” Said another voice, one of her friends. “Monsieur Pink? Are…are you feeling alright?” I blinked. Rêves was watching me with a concerned expression. Similar looks were on the faces of her friends. I spoke. “I… I umm….” I worked my jaw, still trying to convey my thoughts, but no sound came out. I shut my mouth, hoping no one had noticed. I glanced around nervously. Ponies, unicorns, and pegasus alike were watching the two of us with rapt attention. Short was silently egging me on. I spoke again, but I only managed a foalish whinny. A few ponies snickered. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Well…great then! We’ll, umm, talk after school then?” I hoped that she would agree. It was astounding as it was that she agreed to be my marefriend, but the crowd of onlookers was growing much too much for comfort. What should have been a more or less private moment was quickly becoming a public affair. She smiled, obviously taking the hint. She looked a tad uneasy herself. “That… That would be nice.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “See you then, Pink.” A blush slowly spread across her face as she broke eye contact. Flustered, I stood there awkwardly. “Yesh…I’ll – I’ll see you then, Rêves.” I echoed. She gave me one last small smile and turned back to her friends who began whispering fervently to her. I turned, slightly tripping over my own hoof in the process. A shrill whistle came from somewhere in the courtyard. A blush darkened my already pink coat. I hurriedly rushed back to Short, who immediately swept me up in an embrace. “Haha! Pinky, m’boy, what’d I tell ya?!” I accepting the hug for a moment before pushing him away. It was uncomfortable to be that close to him. I had always had personal space issues. I grasped for words to say. My mind was still trying to catch up with events. I had walked up to Rêves without any doubt she would reject me, like all the others. And? And? And then she didn’t. Clumsily, I sat back down, still in shock. “Well...” I murmured, unsure how to sum up the past few minutes. “Pinky, ya did it! I tolds ya that ya could do it!” I…” I moaned. “I can’t believe she said yes…” Short leaned in, looking worried for a moment. “What’s the matter, Pinky? You do wan’ her, righ’? She is Rêves, after all. I mean, her flank, mate, her flank… I sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I do. It’s just… I don’t know, Short. I just didn’t expect her to…” I trailed off, still at odds with the situation. ‘Man, what I’d do ta’ just cop a feel of her flank.” Short scooped another bite of pudding. “You’re one lucky colt, mate. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut short by a croaky shout resonating through the courtyard. For the second time that day, the courtyard became deathly quiet. “Oi you!” Short stopped short, spoon dangling from his mouth. The next thing I knew, a ruler cuffed him square between his ears, the impact only slightly softened by Short’s nest of hair. We both turned simultaneously to see the hulking figure of Sir, clutching his cane. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, though not in a good way. On the outside, my eyes widened in dread, expressing fear at the situation. Yet, inside I smiled slightly to myself. It was always fun to see Short in action. Especially against Sir. The griffon scowled at me and turned to Short. “And just what do you think you’re doing, laddie?” The aggressive pegasus looked unflinchingly into Sir’s eyes. Neither of them blinked. The courtyard grew to a standstill as the other students watched the three of us. “Why, Sir, I’m merely eating some of this school’s, scrumptious pudding!” Short’s eyes narrowed, defiant. Very slowly, so Sir could easily see him, he deliberately took another bit of pudding. “This is lunch break, after all. Aren’t we supposed to be eatin' our food?” As he spoke, some half-eaten slop flew from his mouth, landing squarely on Sir’s beak. None of us moved for a moment. Sir’s eye twitched in anger. With controlled deliberation, the griffon wiped the pudding from his beak. He smiled at the both of us. Sir leaned in closer to Short and continued the banter. “Ay, laddie, it is lunch break. But you know, as well as I do, that before you can have any pudding, you have to eat you meat.” He paused and continued in a half growl. “And we both know you haven’t had any meat yet, have you, laddie?” He poked a talon at Short’s chest, setting him off balance. Short’s eyes widened in bewilderment, finally breaking their stare down. Whatever the pegasus had anticipated Sir to say, it obviously wasn’t that. He sputtered something unintelligible, tripping over his own words. “Well, Sir… Umm… crap…” It seemed not even Short could stand up to our teachers all the time, despite his bravado. After a moment, Sir chuckled. Around him, a few of the other student began to laugh as well, albeit nervously. “Well, laddie? What’ll it be then? ‘Ow can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?” A silent threat was veiled within that sentence. Sir was not to be tried today, and Short caught it. He looked at Sir and nodded solemnly, obviously defeated. “Here, Sir.” He handed my teacher his food tray. Sir smirked in triumph and snatched the tray away. Short looked up at Sir, silent malice in his eyes. But Sir ignored him and instead turned to me. He wagged a finger in my face threateningly. “Now, I saw that little exchange between you and Miss Fançie over there, laddie. Now, I absolutely ‘ate it, and though I can’t forcibly keep you two apart off school grounds, on school grounds is a different story.” His next sentence dripped with venom. “And if I catch you and ‘er making goo-goo eyes at each other, there will be retribution, you ‘ear? Painful retribution.” he hissed. A knot formed in my throat. I gulped. “Ye – Yes, Sir.” He grinned. “Good boy, laddie.” With that, he turned tail and loped back inside the school building, cane swinging. I let out a breath I didn't know I’d been holding. I glanced at Short, who was staring, downcast, at the table. “Hey Short, you okay?” I asked in a concerned voice. “Yesh. Jus’ need some time to think, ya know?” I patted him on the back. “You were right to back dow-” He swiped my hoof away. “Aw, shu’ up Pinky!” “I’m just saying that-” I started again. “Hey!” my pegasus friend half shouted. “I know when to pick my battles, Pinky!” He huffed and laid his head on the table with a groan. “Jus’ wasn’t feelin’ it today…” I didn’t push the matter any farther. He was noticeably distressed by his argument. It was a rare occurrence that he ever was shot down, let alone that quickly. This school has been getting even to the best of us. We sat in silence for a moment, the previous enthusiasm over my new marefriend temporarily forgotten. Sir’s veiled threats sucked the joy out of our meal, leaving an awkward silence between the two of us. With Short left to his own devices, my thoughts turned towards this school. Lunchtime was a relatively safe time for us. A short reprieve between our long hours of torture. The teachers generally left us alone to our own devices. We had a mutual, unspoken agreement between us: We didn’t cause any trouble, and they wouldn’t punish us. But even then, there were still the times when they came out like dogs among sheep, sniffing out any offenders. This was a favorite activity of Sir’s. He came out more often than any of the other teachers put together, just waiting for us to make a wrong move. He reveled in our misery. And now, only to further my problems, I had a forbidden, in Sir’s eyes at least, affair with Rêves. Not to mention the anger the other colts would direct at me once they heard that their long sought after mare was swept head over hooves. I sighed and held my head in my hooves. Why must my life be so bloody complicated? This school was draining the heart from me. From all of us. Slowly, over the years, it killed us, our individuality, in order to create a single cast of citizens. Sometimes all I could do was visualize a sledge hammer destroying these forbidding walls. Running rampant through the halls, setting ablaze the woodwork and watching as the building slowly crumbled. A hoof tugged on my shoulder, breaking my train of thought. “Pikerton?” I glanced down at the source of the voice. A small, wiry built red unicorn looked back at me. “Hey, Ox. What you want?” I answered, glumly. Ox Thunderhooves was one of my first friends. A very well-thought-of, quiet colt, in private at least. Still called me Pinkerton, despite many previous protests. He grew up sheltered and proper, taught to be a respectable stallion. However, in spite of life’s attempts to beat it out of him, he never managed to quite get it out of his system when interacting with anyone on a personal level. But, somehow, when he got in front of a crowd, he was an inexhaustible ball of energy and vitality. He outshone anypony else with his wild, crazy antics. Near impossible to calm him down once he got going. His cutie mark was a bass guitar, something he excelled at playing, obviously. But also something that earned him much abuse from our teachers. Music was a taboo subject in school. Creativity in general was frowned upon. “I’s just wondering if you ever finished that poem. ‘Bout your father?” He continued. His question hit me like a ton of bricks. It’s amazing how a few simple words could affect one as much as they did. But, alas, they did, and memories and feelings I fought to keep down during school hours flooded my mind like a burst dam. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to block the thoughts. Father… “Sir…” A red hoof waved itself in front of my vision. “What’s that, Pink?” Ox was watching me, concerned. “You’re lookin’ distant again…” I shook myself. This wasn’t the time for grieving. I had to push through. Methodically, I shut my memories behind the mental barrier I had for them, closing them from my mind. I smiled in what I hoped was a cheerful manner. “Sir.” I clarified. “Sir took it a few days ago. Caught me writing in class.” The maroon bassist’s eyes narrowed in sympathy. “Ah. Well that’s a shame, for sure.” His face darkened in grief for a moment, but then reverted to normal. “I rather liked your poems, Pink. Only thing I enjoyed ‘bout this, ‘scuse my language, vile school. And hey, ‘grats on Rêves, Pink. On behalf of all the colts here, you did somethin’ we never could. If I had a hat, I’d tip it to you.” I chuckled. “Always the gentlecolt, Ox. And thank you, and the others, too...” I ruffled his mane. “But, yes. The sad thing is that the poem was almost done too… Shame, really….” We lapsed into silence again. I fiddled with my school issue tweed jacket, trying to get it to lie flat. The thing was scratchy as hell, and it was gray. How more unexciting and analogous could you get? I had always preferred pink over ever other color, though I suppose I was biased. With a small cough, the bassist unicorn’s eyes focused on the sullen pegasus behind me. “What’s wrong with him?” “Sir.” I repeated once more. Ox nodded solemnly in understanding. “Right. The devil himself.” I smiled half-heartedly at his humor. Beside me, Short spoke up, finally stirring from his gloom. “’Ey, Thunder, how’s your pet spider doin’? Wha’s his name, again?” Ox grinned excitedly. “His name’s Boris, Mis’ser. Boris the spider. An’ he’s doin’ really well. ‘Ee’s almost big as my head now,” he finished proudly. Short responded with an equally interested smirk. “Really now? How long you reckon before you can bring him in? I got a plan tha’ involves him and Pink’s bastard of a teacher.” I looked at him, surprised. Short could be ruthless, yes, but even he had a stopping point. Most of the time. “You realize that could get you expelled, right Short?” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Hell if I care, Pinky. Nigh time to blow this damned prison, if I’m sure. This little soiree we jus’ had with the griffon broke my camel’s back. ” He opened one eye, which regarded me warily. “You gettin’ me, Pinky? Entwistle?” Ox and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised. I gingerly prodded forward in the conversation. “I- We’re not sure we follow…” Both of Short’s eyes snapped open and he fell forward in his chair. He clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, boys. I thought’ you smarter than tha’.” He regarded us with a look eerily similar to Sir on a bad day. “Wha’ I’m sayin’ is that I’m thinkin’ is tha’ we, as in all the school, need to…appropriate this here hellhole into somethin’ more favorable.” “What…?.” I muttered. Evidently, Short’s stopping point had been broken. Ox pursed his lips, obviously still trying to grasp the meaning behind Short’s words. He wasn’t the brightest of colts. Too much blunt head trauma and loud explosions. Short caught his confusion and explained in simpler terms. “A revolution, Thunder. A riot, if you will.” The red unicorn’s ears perked up and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, mis’ser Short. That sounds right agreeable!” “Full-scale riot, Short? Really?” I asked. The diminutive pegasus regarded me with a slight, disapproving shake of his head. “You always were the conservative one, Pinky. You tellin’ me you haven’t felt the tension in here? All we’d need is to organize things a bit.” He paused, giving me time to think. “I mean, there’s a staff of, wha’, six? Against hundreds of angry adolescences ready to tear the place down?” His voice dropped an octave, to one that matched the somber subject matter. “They wouldn’t stand a chance, Pinky.” I gulped and nickered nervously. What he said was true, of course. And in all honesty, I had entertained the notion a few times. To demolish the school. But to actually do it… To actually revolt against our teachers. Against our guards. To break free of the prison we’d lived in so long. Was that worth it? Could we truly fright for our freedom, against the tyranny of oppressiveness? It was a pleasant concept. But could we succeed? I looked back at Short, who was still watching me with the same apprehensive expression. Tensely, I nodded in agreement. Short sneered. “Then it’s high time for a change here.” He chuckled darkly. “We don’t need no education. Not like this.” He jumped up, fluttering to an elevation a few feet above. With the fervor of a pony twice his age, he shouted to the group of students eating lunch. “And we don’t need no fuckin’ thought control, either!” He pumped his hoof in the air, waving it about. A sign of rebellion. They watched for a moment, unsure what to make of him. Then one colt, in the far corner of the courtyard threw down his lunch and shouted back in agreement. Then, one after the other, the rest of the schoolfoals did the same. As one voice, they shouted their disproval. In unison, they got up and marched towards us. Systematically, and as one, they stood, rapt in attention as Short began to vent his frustrations. At that moment, as we gathered together in one common thought, the school system succeeded in its endeavors in a way. Though united by hatred and revolution, we had become a homogenous, single populace. Our school formed what it sought to create, and we marched right into it, like the good little soldiers we were. Despite our destructive intentions, we lost the last vestiges of our individuality at that moment. In that way, we lost our battle the moment we truly began it. It was a lost cause, I knew. But did that stop me or them from going through with it? Hell no, it didn’t. We became a collective mass that sought to break free of the tyranny of our guards. It became us against them. And now, who knows which is which and who is who? “Saddle up, mates! We need to ge’ this riot under way!” Short hollered. Cries of agreement rang out around the courtyard. Somewhere, deep in my mind, I knew this wasn’t going to end well in the long run. But the rest of me let Short’s infectious speech seep in, filling my body with more disgust and hatred than I thought possible. These teachers wouldn’t harm another student again. ~-~-~-~-~ Our school was in ruin. It took a long while, but eventually the school cracked and buckled under our weight. Its wooden guts were set aflame. The building quickly burned, destroying the interior, the desks, the walls, the supplies, the lights, with red and white hot flames. Pink tinged fire licked the word hungrily, energetically consuming it. What was left of the inside was a blackened husk of brick and mortar, precariously held together. Flames still danced and flickered inside, lighting up the quickly approaching dusk. The students of the once oppressive school milled about in the yard, chatting good-humoredly and watching the building flail with grins of satisfaction. It wasn’t as though we hadn’t a care in the world, oh no. We knew that we had little time before the authorities began to arrive, investigating the rapidly rising pillar of smoke stretching from the school. No doubt the teachers and staff had run to the police when they escaped. But how long would it take them to convince the policeponies that everything was on fire? In the beginning moments of confusion, they tried to corral us into lines, but quickly lost their footings. What could they do against a tide? And so they did the one thing left for them to do: Retreat. Abandoning their duties and posts, they ran from the flaming, wrecked school and most likely hoped to Celestia we wouldn’t follow them. It was satisfying knowing they were scared witless. But they would be back, I was sure. And the building continued to spark and hiss, dying in a painfully slow way, burning.We rushed out like ants and stood in the courtyard, watching, the flames reflecting in our eyes. Our cage had burst open and the birds taken flight. This is where we now were. The day was rapidly drawing to a close, the horizon turning a deep orange as the sun sunk further down. On the opposite side of the sky, the moon steadily rising higher and higher, bringing on the night. I stood apart from the other students, my mind in turmoil about what to make of the days proceedings. Part of me reveled in it, enjoying the vengeance brought to one part of my life that troubled me so long. But the other half was truly and exceedingly terrified about our actions. What we did was unforgivable, wasn’t it? Even though we were tortured day after day, did that justify razing an entire building? With the excitement we were swept up in slowly fading, I wondered about the ramifications of our actions. How would our royal guard punish us? An actual jail? Community service? Public execution? I didn’t trust the government to react appropriately to this situation any more than I knew I could sprout wings and fly. Truthfully, I didn’t know. Would they even harm us, or are they too caught up in their war to worry about petty matters back home? And that feeling of uncertainty horrified me. That sense of hopelessness, as the thing you’re comfortable with are ripped away, leaving you dangling for a way back to normalcy. But beyond that, our actions themselves scared me as well. The way we carried out these acts of destruction and violence, as if engaged in an actual war was something I never wanted to experience for real. War scared me stiff. It was the place where ponies died. Nopony returned from it. Not fully. War was a monster. An abominable, slavering, ravenous monster that only chewed and spit out the soldiers that marched dutifully into its waiting jaws. And the ones that managed to escape its wrath were never the same. I could see them around town with their wheelchairs and crutches. They were missing limbs, occasionally several at a time. But more than that, they were missing parts of their souls. They left their innocence on the war field, where it continued to stay, despite their return. I could never stand living like that, even though my school day was comparable to it. Ponies, griffons, and the other intelligent creatures of Equestria, in a way, are cursed. They are the only races that willingly enter into war, knowing full well the consequences of it. Dumber beasts have it much easier. Aside from the occasional spat over territory, food or mates, they lived in harmony. Lived in peace, lest some outside force disrupted them. Is that what made us intelligent? Our capacity for hatred? Our capacity for war? For rebellion? Would a race be considered advanced if it never fought with anything else? Rabbits, turtles, dogs, and timberwolves: All considered unintelligent. Yet they live and work together in small communities. They build shelters and forage for food. They communicate on the most basic of levels. But if those creatures suddenly began to battle in structured method, two opposing sides against one another, would we regard them as intelligent? For isn’t that the true mark of intelligence? Isn’t that what defines us? Amidst these turbulent thoughts, another view of my condition crept up. What would mother think? I didn’t want to let her down. I loved her more dearly than anything else in all of Equestria. The past years had been hard on her. She still missed father, I think. I think she saw a bit of him in me, as well. When she found out her baby boy got caught up in a revolution, albeit a small one, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. She already loved me beyond what was expected. And I loved her the same. Her loving embrace was comforting, and at times, I almost missed it. Mother was the only pony I truly depended on in my life. I glanced around for Short and Ox, hoping to escape from thoughts. They were hard to pick out amongst the different hues of all the other former students standing around. In the gloom, all the bright, vibrant colors were darkened, as if stained by the very soot that pervaded the air. Mt friends blended in with the other hundreds of colors in the courtyard. The flickering firelight only hindered my search, casting wavy shadows across the gathered crowd. Eventually, I just gave up. It appeared as though I’d have to talk to them later. I turned my attention back to the school itself. Or, rather, what was left of it. The bricks that once choked us lay haphazardly in the streets. These blocks that once made up our prison were ripped down, cast out into the night. Each brick sat one on top of the other, creating an almost crude wall from the rubble. It seemed that, even now, that the school lay in ruin, its bricks still strived to create barriers in an endeavor of corrupt assistance. These bricks were identical to the casual observer. Each was just another brick in the wall. Yet, on closer inspection, each was chipped and cracked in a different way. Each one had come from the same mold, but their lives wore them out differently. Each had a different experience. A different pain. As I watched, a section of the roof came loose, succumbing to gravity. My eyes followed its downward descent to the floor. Each clatter, bang and clash of shingles on concrete. The rooftop eventually came to a rest on the pavement just a few feet away with a mighty shatter. My classmates jumped in surprise. I blinked, expecting the noise. The bricks around the impact site were unmoved. A strong wind blew through the courtyard, tousling my mane. Shivering, I drew my jacket tighter. A few schoolmates did the same. A few more shingles fell from the roof, accompanied by a shrill creaking sound. It seemed to fill the stagnant, cool night air. The sound grew louder with each moment. A few students looked around for the source, but found nothing that explained it. Cautiously, I took a step back, as did the rest of us. And the moment we did, with a creak, the westward facing wall collapsed inwards, scattering debris everywhere. A plume of dust billowed out from the school, blanketing the courtyard. A few foals violently coughed, hacking into the air. The fires burning inside the building were snuffed out by the wreckage. Immediately, the area was smothered in darkness. With no more fire, we only had the faint moonlight as it barely filtered through the cloud of dust that hung over us for light. I could barely make out the ponies around me through the murky air. Our previous bluster was beginning to fade. For a few moments, we stood in silence. The bricks from the collapsed wall slowly clattered to a halt. With a last clack, the night was silent. All was still. We were happy. But even then, we knew it would be short-lived before the worse times would start up again. For, soon, the policeponies would arrive and a new stage of grief would begin. We would be separated and moved around. New lives in different schools would begin. Possibly good, possibly not. But all that evil we lived through would lead to another shining and glorious good time, we knew. I finally caught a glimpse of Short and Ox. They were side by side, hooves around the other’s shoulder caroling happily some other the other students. It was merely friendly gesture, I knew. Put into a drunken stupor by the proceedings around them. This was a joyful time, after all. I saw Rêves and caught her eye. She smiled at me, but continued talking with her friends. I grinned back, knowing that our relationship wouldn’t be as bad as I thought earlier. Some time passed, and before long all the excited chatter died out, leaving the courtyard just as empty as it had been before. The cloud of dust from the falling wall had long since dissipated, though the fires still were out. By now, the moon had rose high above the skyline, bringing with it a blanket of stars. I stared up into the sky in wonder. Stargazing was not something I was known to do, but it the heat of the moment, it seemed right. I smiled slightly to myself. All our parents would kill us when we got home so late. And then there was the matter of teh school burning down. At that moment, a worrying groan filled the night, much louder than the one before it. The sound set my teeth on edge. And then, the exterior wall directly in front of us began to shudder. The wall tottered for a moment, as if unsure, and then began to plunge towards us. Time seemed to slow. I watched as my schoolmate’s faces turned from one of ecstasy to pure terror. A few hesitated at first, but eventually, they all turned and careened from the collapsing wall, shouting curses to the heavens above. Without a moment’s indecision, I galloped with them. The bricks fell to the ground, coming to a halt not a few feet from us, landing with a loud thump. One colt, a small pipsqueak, barely six years old, barely reached safety in time. The bricks settled, clattering off of the newly formed rubble pile. One remarkably undamaged brick fell off of the pile and rolled along the cobblestone path. It came to a stop at my hooves. I stared at it for a moment, still alarmed from the mad scramble away from the destruction. I took a few deep gasps, trying to steady my nerves. The peacefulness of the night had fallen away. The spell shattered, alongside the school’s wall. Still shaking, I bent down a grasped the brick in my teeth. I wasn't sure why, but I felt as if something needed to be done. It tasted like you would expect a brick to taste like. Dirt, concrete and dust. I hefted it up and spat it into my hoof. I held it for a moment, weighing it. I glanced over my shoulders at my classmates who were watching me apprehensively, still breathing heavily from their near death experience. My eyes connected with the blue of Rêves’. I smiled and turned back toward the ruins of our school. Our former prison. With a grunt, I drew my hoof back and flung the brick through the air.