//------------------------------//
// Reality Awaits 
// Story: Ground Breaker 
// by MyShyPetRock 
//------------------------------//


All of them were about five at the time. All four of those foals, sitting so close to their campfire they could feel the flames dance on their faces. They all stared deeply into the fire, not speaking, not moving. All except for Sand Stone, who was constantly exchanging glances with her home and the other foals. (Sand Stone's mother had agreed to let them go "camping" in her backyard as long as they remained close by). 
"It's getting cold out. And dark. We should go inside," Sand Stone sounded, whispering ever so quietly that the others had mistaken it for the occasional cackle of the fire.
"Did you say something, Sand Stone?" Silver Star, the happy-go-lucky, fuzzy headed unicorn asked. She, who was seated next to Sand Stone, leaned over and smiled at her, awaiting an answer.
"Oh! I just said it was getting dark out. That's all," she replied, putting her hooves in her lap. Silver Star opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and looked at the small colt sitting next to her. Dream Catcher, a blue coated colt that has a complex relationship with daydreaming, smiled wickedly. He must have overheard.
"Getting dark is the perfect time for a game of truth or dare!" He cackled, rubbing his hooves together. 
"Yeah! That sounds like fun!" Sweetie Belle squeaked, the last of the four foals. 
"Do we....have to play?" Sand Stone asked, ducking her head behind her shoulders. A few strands of hair fell across her face as she did this, causing her to look like an incompetent, scared child.  
"Well, yeah, Sand Stone. It will be fun!" Silver Star chanted, throwing her hooves into the air and kicking her legs about in excitement. 
"Okay, the rules are: we each get three truths, but after that, you have to choose a dare. Got it?" Dream Catcher explained, scanning each of the foal's determined faces. Each of them nodded, even though Sand Stone was unwilling. 

Each of them took turns, either truthing or daring each other. Of course, afraid that she would be forced to do something that was dangerous or scary, Sandstone used her three truths up in a row. 

"Sandstone, truth or dare?" Sweetie Belle asked. Just before she could answer with another, "truth," Sweetie Belle pounced on again.
"Wait...you already used up your truths, haven't you?" She asked, one eyebrow raised. 
Sandstone blushed. 
"I..well...I don't really remember," she protested, even though all three of her prior truths were rewinding themselves repeatedly in her mind. 
"Yeah, I think she has!" Dream Catcher laughed, "so you have to pick dare!"

Sweetie Belle smiled.
"Sand Stone, I dare you to go into the old  graveyard next to your house for ten whole minutes and then come back!" She yelled, a smile creeping upon her face. 
Sand Stone looked into the now dying fire and began to think. She didn't want to do it, but she didn't want to look like a wimp, especially in front of Dream Catcher.
"Okay," she finally said, face full of determination, "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Sand Stone didn't waste any time getting to the graveyard. She ran to the break of the woods behind her house and glanced back at her friends, eyes wide with terror. Silver Star gave her a reassuring wave, and Sand Stone ran into the trees. 
She crossed a small creek along the way and splashed about in the water for a moment, then ran to the opening in the thick trees. On the other side, she could see the graveyard. 

The old, rickety gate was nearly rusted shut, and most of its glossy, marble-like appearance was now a rusty copper color. 
Sand Stone ran up to it and attempted to push it open. The gate (which of course lead to the cemetery) made quite a racket as it squealed open. 
Sand Stone poked her head through the now slightly open gate and looked both ways, as if readying herself to cross the street. She put one hoof in cautiously, the other three hooves followed that one inside with unknown bravery. This cemetery was definitely an old and abandoned one. A majority of its graves were tilted immensely and others had completely fallen over. Sand Stone walked over to one gravestone in order to read the name, only to be left disappointed, for the name had been worn away with time and erosion. 
"I might as well begin my ten minutes. I want to get back as soon as I can," Sand Stone told herself in a gentle tone. She began to count, and every time she reached sixty, she started over, keeping track of how many "sixties" she came across. 
It was about her fourth ‘sixty’, and she had been wandering around aimlessly for quite a while now, when Sand Stone bumped into something. Stunned, she stumbled backwards and nearly fell to the earthy ground. 
"Hey now! Watch where you're going, I'm trying to walk here!" Another voice sounded from in front of her. A voice, whose words came out like honey with an accent; thick and smooth, and rich to the taste. Another foal, a pinch older than Sand Stone was herself, stood her ground in front of her. She looked aggravated, but behind that egotistical look, stood a scared frown.
"I-I'm so very sorry that I ran into you! I didn't mean to!" Sand Stone defended, ducking down behind herself, as if she could save her own self from the bump in the night. It didn't take her long, though, to realize that the pony standing before her was just another foal, and she recoiled.
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" Sand Stone asked, her ears dropping down, head cocked. 
"What are you doing here?" The other foal shot back, her Britain accent hitting Sand Stone's ears once again.
"My friends dared me to come here," Sand Stone replied, raising a hoof. 
"A dare, eh? Just like always. No pony ever visits me anymore, and it doesn't help that I live in a graveyard," the other foal said. She kicked a nearby pebble with her front hoof and sighed. 
"Do you have a name, kid?" She asked.
"It's Sand Stone," She replied, a weak smile creeping upon her face. The other foal nodded.
"The name's Ground Breaker! Quite a name, eh? My dad gave it to me before he passed on," Ground Breaker said, gesturing to herself.
"I take it you like rocks or something?" Ground Breaker guessed, obviously thinking of her name.
"No. In fact I know nearly nothing about them," sand Stone replied, making Ground Breaker look surprised.
"Oh yeah? I see you're an early bloomer, eh? What's that beauty there on your flank?" Ground Breaker asked, gesturing to her cutie mark.
"Oh, it's either a mug full of coffee, or tea...or hot coco. I don't really know. My mama says it's supposed to represent calmness or something like that. But I'm not a calm pony at all, so I'm not sure why I got this cutie mark," Sand Stone admitted, smiling sadly. 
"Eh, don't sweat it, kid. At least you have a cutie mark. I've got nothing but a blank flank."

They began to walk around a bit, learning new things about one another, and Sand Stone had forgotten about her ten minutes. She learned that after Ground Breaker's father had passed, she took on his job as grave keeper, and that it took approximately two weeks to bury a body, from dressing the body, to the actual burial. She learned that Ground Breaker didn't have many friends and that she lived at the graveyard- more specifically, atop her father's grave.  Having felt sorry for the foal, Sand Stone promised to meet her again the next day in the same place. She, of course, kept that promise.

Weeks came and went, and Sand Stone had grown to become good friends with Ground Breaker. They met in the graveyard in secrecy each day (if Sand Stone's mother knew about her daughter's denounce, she would lose her head), and day after day, they weaved throughout each grave, Ground Breaker explaining the histories of each one. Sand Stone was mildly interested, as well, and wished to learn more. They didn't just talk about the gravestones, though. Many of times,they rambled on and theorized about what Sand Stone's cutie mark was. When Ground Breaker received her cutie mark (a shovel planted in front of a gravestone) they talked about hers.

A year passed, Sand Stone was six, and Ground Breaker was thirteen. Although she never mentioned it, Ground Breaker had began to realize that she had strong feelings for her small friend. Of course, she cared for Sand Stone as she had the day she met, but now, she truly loved her. She almost wished that she would never leave. 
Before the small foal would leave, Ground Breaker would give her a hug, and on rare occasions, a kiss on the ear. The filly was so innocent and unaware, though, that she had only the slightest clue that this was abnormal for other friends to do. That is, until she mentioned this to her mother.

"Where have you been going, exactly, dear?" Sand Stone's mother had asked one day in the kitchen. "You have been out of the house for days now, have you been out at a friends house?"
"Something like that, yeah," Sand Stone had replied.
"Oh? So it's a friend?" Her mother asked, getting curious. 
"Mm hm. She's nice. Her name is Ground Breaker. She has spiky hair and cool, blue  fur. She likes to give me kisses!" Sand Stone laughed. Her mother frowned, and told her she was not to see "this new friend" until further notice. When Sand Stone asked for reasoning, her mother simply said, "No."