//------------------------------// // A Piece of You // Story: The Crying Statue // by D Historian //------------------------------// A Piece of You ~~~~~ "Daddy!" I smile happily at him, but the simple action of quirking up my lips seems very tiring for some reason. Maybe I am tired. No, I am exhausted. My limbs are aching, a new sensation to me. Every step sends a shooting spike of agony up my right hoof, so I think I've twisted something. My hair is becoming more orderly and neater, an occupational hazard. Every inch of me is wet from the drizzle, and everything is a world of grey gloom, like a mist suffocating me. But it's all worth it. He is here. I've found him! The moonlight makes the stone glow white, and it shows me clearly what he is doing. His jaw is unhinged, smiling widely, his snaked tongue still in action to form words before he was frozen. And he seems happy. He is laughing, with a claw stretched out in a manner I instantly recognise from experience as forced hilarity. He had laughed. The very sound I used to hear that brought me hope, the echoes resounding in my ear, committed to heart. But it was not genuine. His smile was knowing, and his eyes were closed, as if afraid of what awaited him. No, no, daddy was never afraid. But he still knew that this was coming. But he did not move. Why? "Sometimes you can be very silly!" I giggle, tapping his nose. My hoof bonking the granite makes a chink sound, and my hoof slips on the smooth material. Daddy's fur was smooth, too. But it was a different kind of smooth. Daddy's chest was sometimes a little fuzzy, and felt like gentle feathers tickling me when I brushed against it. It was silky, but this kind of smooth is like ice. The stone is very different from the fur I used to hug, it is very, very cold. Too cold. Maybe daddy is unwell. But what medicine could be given to stone? Maybe he just needs a blanket. But a blanket would get wet in the increasing rain. "I think you-" A simple commanding thought instinctively runs through my head, followed by a splitting pain that throbs through my temples like electricity cackling, making me reel, landing face first into the cut grass, the lawn smell wafting through my nostrils and making me light headed. The slimy wetness rubs against my firmly closed eyes. A metallic and salty taste floods my senses as I realise I've bitten the inside of my cheek too hard. My vision spins, and not in a normal way. Right, no chaos, no magic. I forgot. I smile at daddy. It's alright. It does not matter that I have nowhere to go anymore. It does not matter that I sleep in a garbage bin, full of flies and other homeless foals that fear me. It does not matter that I run from every pony, and that they try to throw things at me. It doesn't even hurt, not on the outside, anyway. It does not matter that I sleep, wet and cold. It does not matter that the world is so cruel and mean. It does not matter that sometimes I cannot run, sometimes I feel like just giving up and falling to the pitchforks and torches that are a blurry and constant haze, following me. I feel really cold, but it does not matter. Because daddy is here. He always makes everything better. He can do anything, bend reality by snapping his fingers. He will make everything better. He always does. He will laugh, and I will laugh, and we will play in the chocolate puddles, together. Maybe if I close my eyes, reality will disappear and I will be left with that existence, the existence of such a happy ending, like in all those fairy tales daddy tells me. Well, used to tell me. He always liked to make up a good story, like the one about the two big bad princesses. The story even turned out to be true. Daddy liked to tuck me in at night. Sometimes, it would even be a song to lull me to sleep. Rain is still falling, droplets of water trickling down the petrified chimera limbs belonging to daddy. It pours down like a wet sheet. It clings a bit around his closed eyes, like he is crying. No, he is not actually crying, daddy never cries! He is always brave and clever, and funny. He is always there for me, and I am always there for him. Through the the thin and thick. No matter what happens. He looks a bit sad though. Or sleepy. Maybe I should sing him a song. "Do not cry, daddy dear, I am still very here, and when you do break out, we'll continue to spread the random fear..." Words tumble out as I clamber onto the carved stone pedestal, skidding on the wet marble, and grasp one of daddy's hind legs, smiling. He feels really cold. I hug the leg tightly, pressing the freezing hard material against my stinging cheek. I crow in delight. "Our joy will be their pain, as the world drowns in chocolate rain!" I shriek brokenly to the downcast sky, eyes closed, feeling droplets drip down my face, making me wetter and colder than before. Rain continues to pour, and I suddenly am thankful to the rain, as the droplets cover the fact that I am crying. No, no, I am not crying, I am brave and strong, like daddy. "Because...you...are my daddy Discord!" I wail louder, my grin stretching wider. Thunder grumbles overhead and rain falls even harder. The storm is closing in, but I feel strangely giddy and at peace. For a split second, the world turns a blinding white, and everything is silent, except for the pounding of my own heart, thumping loudly and drowning everything else, except for my own cracked voice. "And I...am...a...piece of...you." I close my eyes.