Changeling Amnesia

by CrutioAstarothChaos

The pitied pegasus

I can’t believe it! Since day one I feel absolutely full with the love of everypony! I am in the middle of everypony’s attention, and it keeps me so well fed, that sometimes I can barely walk; I feel so full. I have severed every direct connection with Giselle’s parents, since I’ve paid my debt to them, and now I only hear from them when they write to Migraine.

Recently I've become the close friend of some important ponies, and through them I’ve managed to get everypony to forget about Giselle’s family. So in the past two weeks I gave the gossip writers some juicy material to write in their columns. Since then, I have earned more love than any changeling could’ve ever imagined.

On the dark side of things, my so called employer, Ms. Finish is, to put it mildly, an ass. The hag runs off everytime she thinks she’s done, making me chase her for my payment. Or there was this one case, when I was dressed up in the fanciest clothes anypony could ever imagine, decorated with at least a dozen fragile crystals, and she exclaimed that the background wasn’t fitting, and the entire crew, lead by Photo Finish ran off somewhere. And of course they expected me to run too. I think the fact that the accessories were fragile didn’t ever occur to them.

I have endured this life for almost three months now. Migraine has another client, and I need some change. I perfectly understand why Giselle wanted to get rid of this.

I honestly have no idea how she managed to survive this for six months.

Amnesia closed her diary. She looked at the letter lying on her bed, telling her about some other poor folk wishing for a change. Honestly she planned to go sooner, just as soon as she figured out how. But now, she was uncertain about her previous plans; thinking about them more made it seem less like a “good” plan.

In fact, the changeling felt more than desperate; lately Photo Finish had become unbearable. But she still didn’t want to go out in a way that would risk Giselle’s new life. Suddenly she came up with a near perfect scheme. She grabbed a parchment and a quill, and began fabricating a letter. A letter from some imaginary unicorn, who just happened to be making potions that enabled other unicorns to change their appearance. And this certain unicorn was writing about the fact that his supplies have just ran out. Permanently. So all Amnesia had to do now was make sure it gets a wide public attention; pick another disguise, make a scene during her work, leave the letter somewhere where they find it, and run off crying to Celestia knows where. Luckily, Ms. Finish had an appointment that day with the gabby gums of the Canterlot Secrets; one of the most famous gossip magazine.

Luck seems to have smiled on her once again.

Okay, so maybe her plan wasn’t really foolproof. Like maybe she didn’t take into account that they might bring along a photographer. Who just happened to be a pegasus. And a good flyer.

Escaping now became a bit more difficult than she had previously imagined.

“Leave me alone!” She yelled, taking another tight turn.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, could you stop! I just want a picture!”

Back in the hive Amnesia had learned about many cultures. Griffon culture was among them. She wished ponies would have fingers; then she could use the obscene gesture she learned back in the hive.

Her lungs were burning, and she was getting really tired; she noted to herself that a little workout now and then wouldn’t hurt in the future. She then saw the perfect chance to escape.

A group of tourists were just entering a restaurant. No doubt some ponies had the need to use the bathrooms. Amnesia dashed into the restaurant, along with the tourists, looked around, and immediately headed for the restrooms. Once inside, she caught her breath, changed forms, and waited. Since she was sure the pegasus was still outside, she needed to stay put for a while.

Quite a while.

After her rough morning, Amnesia was finally on the path of getting another life. Paparazzi gone, endless attention and love gone too, but at least now she was rid of Photo Finish too. She decided that since she had become Giselle, she didn’t have the chance to visit Migraine. And it would be a good opportunity to hear more about this new client.

Once there, she listened at the door for a small while, trying to guess if there was somepony else inside, but when she failed, she simply knocked on the door. After a small while, she heard Migraine’s heavy footsteps closer and closer.

“Yes?” the unicorn asked, slightly opening the door.

“It’s me, Migraine! I got your letter!” Amnesia replied. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh, Amnesia! Come right in!” he opened the door. “I was just reading some newspapers.”

“I guess you’ll read about me in it tomorrow,” the changeling jested, entering the pony’s domain. “How are you these days? I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to visit you. Model life and all that.”

“I understand. And mentioning Giselle: she’s recuperating nicely. Her parents are still somewhat disappointed and unbelieving; but they are also grateful for the return of their daughter.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Amnesia sat on the sofa. “You still afraid?”

“Every time somepony knocks, I imagine the royal guards on the other side of the door.” He said, disappearing in the kitchen. “But otherwise I’m fine, thank you.”

“Hey, if you get caught, I’ll bust you out.”

“Because being an escaped criminal is such a promising future,” Migraine replied with an ironic laugh.

“We could be Whinny and Cldyesdale!” Amnesia added with a giggle. “Oh come on, it’ll never happen!”

“I believe you wish to know more about the next client?” the stallion asked, returning with a cup of coffee.

“You know me too well.”

Migraine slowly nodded, taking a seat in his armchair.

“Wait, you mean this guy has more love than a model did? How?” Amnesia asked, after Migraine finished the short explanation.

“Well, mares say he’s cute to the point where he’s irresistible, and I’ve spent several days with him, watching him trying to shoo away mares like others do with flies,” the stallion explained. “He’s actually an old friend of mine.”

“So, how come he wants to throw it all away?” Amnesia was more than puzzled.

“Well, bad luck seems to follow him everywhere.” Migraine replied.

“You mean he’s like Buddy?”

“Similar, but not exactly. Buddy was depressed; Silver Script is not. He’s just terribly unlucky. Or to be more exact, terrifyingly unlucky.”

“Terrifyingly?” the changeling was a bit shocked.

“He lost his parents at a young age; he lived with his grandparents, until they passed when their house burned down,” Migraine put his empty cup down. “He moved to Canterlot, to live with his aunt, who lost her job not soon after. He was forced to live in an orphanage, while his aunt tried to make money; she had little success. The only foalhood friend he had died in some rare disease; he didn’t even had the bits to buy a train ticket and visit her. I could go on with the endless misery that seems to follow him; I’m actually quite surprised he’s hiding his pain so well.”

“I think I get why he’s willing to let go so easily. I don’t blame him.” Amnesia said.

“I don’t think you do. You see; your reaction is exactly what drives him mad.”

“My reaction?”

“He’s not keeping his misery a secret.” Migraine replied. “He actually thinks that talking about it will make it easier for him to accept it. But then, ponies are compassionate beings; they all feel pity for him. And that’s what bugs him.”

“You mean, the extra attention because everypony tries to make him comfortable can be annoying? I’m shocked.”

“This is no joke. He thinks he can hit two flies with one blow.”

“I’ll go talk to him.”

The changeling was back on the rooftops of Canterlot. She might not have actually ever lived there, but she always liked the sight. It made her more comfortable; being able to observe everything.

She noticed the purple pegasus spending time with his friends; (the v. it was the) first time Amnesia actually witnessed somepony living happily . But then again, if he was truly happy, he wouldn’t wish for her services.

She followed the group of ponies from above; she didn’t really need to hide, since they were too occupied talking to each other. After taking a long walk, having some fun in the park and having a drink at a nearby bar, Amnesia was more than convinced that he had good friends.

Good and loving friends.

What she was unconvinced about was the fact that he wanted to throw it away. For Buddy to throw it away, she understood that. Star Bright too, even if he was a bit too irrational and foalish. Giselle’s case was no question either. But this one.

Silver Script had a seemingly perfect life; he was a script writer and a director of a small acting group; a decent job. He had a lot of friends too, she saw it first hoofed.

“Why?” Silver script asked back.

Amnesia was sitting in front of the stallion. The two of them were at a small restaurant; the changeling picked the place this time. Silver Script had light grey mane and tail and blue eyes; Amnesia had to admit he looked pretty cute.

“I won’t take a life for a reason I don’t know,” she explained. “And as far as I know there is no going back. So yes, I want to know: why?”

“What did Migraine tell you?”

“What does it matter?” Amnesia asked back, but the stallion’s eyes pierced her. “He told me of your past, and what he thinks is the reason.”

Silver Script looked away. The changeling noticed he was looking at the small fountain decorating the center of the restaurant. She prayed that the pony wouldn’t start some artistic nonsense.

“Do you know what it’s like to remember everything? To see it all play out before you no matter where you look?” he asked after a long pause. “I live my life trying to get rid of the painful memories. But I look at my friends, and all I see is that they’re concerned for me. They want me to ease up, but all they do is remind me of all the bad things that happened.”

“Have you tried talking to them about it?” Amnesia tried to calm him down.

“And what would I tell them?” Silver Script inquired in a cold voice. “Sorry you remind me of my dead mother, so please stop?”

Amnesia recoiled in shock; she might have been used to being treated like this, but that was long ago, back in the hive. She never expected a pony to be like this.

“I’m – ” she started.

“ – sorry, right?” Silver said. “Everypony is. Always. I’m sick of it.”

The changeling looked away; she couldn’t stand the blue eyes of the stallion pinning her to the chair she was sitting on.

“If you want to help; we both know what you should do.”

So I did. I took all the pain, the memories, the excruciating past, present and future Silver Script had, or what he ever would have had. I carried on with his life, wrote plays with his name on it; but never had to suffer the pain he suffered, whenever I looked at his friends.

But sometimes, I willingly remember his past; just to reflect on what I have, and appreciate every minute of it.

To remember to cherish every second of it.

Comments

[Schroooom Farmer]

YAY update!
Very nice chapter but it was almost exactly what I expected when I read the title.