I just wish I could be anywhere else. So long as it isn't here. This place used to be filled with love, and warmth, until mom and dad died. My big sister ran away after finding the bodies.
I should probably rewind, so you aren't confused.
I'm Moongazer. Age: 14. A mare. Bat-pony. Orphan. Youngest of two.
I live in downtown Manehattan. A run-down shack is what I call home, and it's been my home since I was born. But since my mom and dad committed suicide, and my sis left, this place hasn't sat right with me. I s'pose it could be the bloodstain in the corner from the cuts and scrapes my big sis gave me before she left. She got really mad at me, saying that things had been great before I was born, and then when I came, money became tight, and mom and dad were fighting. Their fighting was all I'd ever known, so I just thought it was normal for all parents.
Apparently not. She'd screamed at me about how horrible I was for putting her through that, and when she was only six, too. She'd had to share her mat with me. She had to have less presents at Hearth's Warming. Not as much food at Thanksgiving. I'd been taking up space, and money. Not to mention I get sick real easy, so there were a lot of doctors' bills to pay. Which was hard on ma and pa. Only one could go to work, since Echo wasn't big enough to take care of me yet. So mama stayed home with me, while pa had to work three jobs.
Things went on like this for three or four years, until my sister was old enough to watch me. She had to skip school on Tuesdays, so mama could leave for work early. She was a bat pony, too, working as a waitress at the diner about a half hour's walk away. Papa was an average pegasus, who worked at the Laundromat, the grocery mart, and as a cook at one of the fast food places uptown. Along with that, he tried as often as he could to volunteer at the hospital. Whenever he couldn't he would stay home with us, and sing his songs to us so we would all sleep good, with no nightmares.
Then it happened.
It should have been a stormy night. It should have been pitch black, with no stars. Instead, the sky was clear, and the stars shone bright, with a beautiful crescent moon. I was 10, with Echo being 14. We had both fallen asleep. The fall winds were whistling through the oak tree outside our home. It had been a fun day at the park. But only for me. Ma had worked overtime, and so had papa. Echo had taken me to the playground a few blocks away, and given me her jacket. It was big on me, but it helped shield me from the chilly winds of autumn. We'd come home to see that mom and dad were still gone, signifying that they were on overtime, and they would be home late. So Echo took two slices of bread from the small box where we kept our food, spread a bit of honey on them, and handed me one. It was a meager supper, but I was used to it. Occasionally, Echo would go to the woods just outside of town and bring back a dead rabbit or two, and we would eat in the back alleyway. Mom and dad didn't like us eating meat, because it was frowned upon in Manehattan.
We'd eaten our dinner, then we'd both moved to out small mat that we shared, and she had tucked me in, and lain down next to me. She sang a small lullaby, just like papa would have done. His deep melodic voice was often accompanied by her own beautiful tone on nights when he'd come home in time to see us before bed. On other nights, Echo would simply sing one of papa's songs. This one was my absolute favorite.
Close your eyes, lie your head,
on this cloud, in your bed.
Say goodnight, little dear,
Have sweet dreams, without fear.
I'll stay with you, to the end,
round each corner, every bend.
And every night, I will stay,
and in the morning, again we'll play.
When you awake, I'll be here,
you won't be alone, you'll be without fear.
Don't you worry, don't you cry,
just fall asleep, to my lullaby.
Mama loved it, too. We all used to sing it together on stormy nights. I was always the first to fall asleep with it. But for some reason, when it was just Echo singing it that night, it felt strange. Almost foreign. I looked to her, and she had tears in her eyes. I hugged her, but she pulled away. I didn't try again. She had a knack for punching.
I rolled over, and stared at the wall, two inches from my snout. I fell asleep slowly.
The next morning was a living hell.
I woke up before anypony else, to sit up, and look out the window. It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky. I turned around to ask Echo if she would take me to the playground again, but my attention was drawn upwards.
My mom and dad were hanging from the ceiling. There were nooses around their necks. Mom was still wearing her waitress outfit, and dad was wearing his cooking apron. I was frozen in shock. I remember hearing screaming, unaware that it was mine. Echo woke up, saw the gruesome scene, and immediately ran out of our home, to get the authorities. I remained at home, unable to look away from the corpses.
The police came, while I backed into a corner. They shuffled around the room, and an ambulance came. Mom and dad were taken down from the ropes, and taken away. The police talked to Echo, then they tried to talk to me, but I just jumped at them, coming close to biting a few. I managed to land a hit on one of the bigger stallions. They backed away after a moment of trying. Echo walked over to me and picked me up. Everything after that was a blur, and I don't remember it.
I don't remember anything except being taken to a hospital, then home, with Echo never leaving my side. She'd held my hoof the whole time.
When we got home, I'd immediately gone to mom and dad's mat, and curled up, burying my muzzle into dad's spot, inhaling his scent. I closed my eyes, as Echo came to lie down where mom usually slept. I began to cry for the thousandth time in the past 24 hours. She cried with me.
The next few months went by okay, with Echo taking over mom's job at the diner, and me staying home by myself. I would sit in the corner, staring at the spot where ma and pa had hung themselves. Then I'd look away, almost always to the door. And I would sing. I would sing any and every song that I knew. But I never sang the lullaby. Never. It brought back memories that I wanted to forget.
Every night, Echo would come home with her outfit lopsided, her smile the same way. Her smile was forced, like she was taking a picture. Every night she would come home and tuck me in. The next two years went by like this. It was the anniversary of their death. While Echo was at work, I'd gone and gotten some flowers from the park. Most were gone, but there was still a few roses left. I picked them, and took them home. I'd sat them on our parents' mat, right in between where their bodies used to lie. I remember crying. For the first time in two full years, I sang papa's lullaby.
I sang it out loud, as loud as possible. I sang that song over and over, never stopping. I sang until Echo came home. For the first time, she came home without her fake smile, and she wasn't wearing her waitress outfit. She was angry today. After hearing the song, she looked at me, and her normally green eyes turned a dark crimson red.
She yelled. Well, it was more like furious screaming, that was amplified by nearly a thousand. She hit me, multiple times. She screamed more. Her fangs were at full length, her wings were partially unfolded. I backed into my corner, and she punched my nose, which made me bleed. She then flew up to the ceiling, and pulled a small wooden support beam from its place, and hit me with it. She punched the wall, put in some holes, and then wrapped up our mat. She left ma and pa's for me. She stuck the mat in the saddlebag that had belonged to mama. All the while, I watched her, tears flowing from my eyes like waterfalls. "I'm sorry.." I'd whispered to her. She didn't respond.
As she walked out of the small shack, she whispered, "This is your fault, Moony. I wish you were never born."
After she left, I remained in that spot, staining the carpet with my crimson blood.
And now, two years later, I'm here. I'm in the same shack, working at the same diner that my mom and sister worked at. I hate it. It's old, and my outfit is too small. There's a new set of workers every few weeks, due to them complaining about something or other. The boss is an old stallion, who frequently flirts with the mare workers. I'm the only one he leaves alone, probably because I'm a bat.
I look out the window. There's a full moon out, and the stars are beautiful. There's a few clouds scattered across the sky. Luna put in some effort tonight. At the exact moment I was going to turn away, there was a shooting star. I remembered what mom had always told me. "Whenever you see a falling star, you make a wish right after. And it will come true if you truly want it." She'd said. Every night we could, she'd take me and Echo out to the playground, and we would watch the sky, in hopes of a shooting star.
And now that I'd finally seen one, I took my chance.
I wish I could go to a new place. A place where my nightmares are gone, and I still have mom and dad and Echo. A place where nothing is wrong, and all is good. A place where there are stars everywhere. A place where stars collide.
I closed my eyes, waiting for something to happen. A 'poof' that would signify me moving somewhere. A bright flash of light, sparkles, something. I opened them again, to see that I was still in the same old cottage. There was the bloodstain, and there was my wretched waitress outfit. There was mom and dad's mat, and there was dad's saddlebag.
I hated it.
I want to run. Run and never come back to this place. But I couldn't. This place was my home. Not to mention, it was winter now. Echo had taken her jacket with her after storming out. I couldn't leave. I'd freeze over. So instead, I went to the only mat left, and I curled up. I lie awake for a good hour, thinking of a perfect world. Slowly, my eyes begin to droop. I let them. I fall asleep, and dream of a world where stars collide.