Just Around the Corner

by KorenCZ11

Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum

This morning, the headache didn’t feel so bad. As a matter of fact, I’d even say I felt nice night about now. Soft and warm. Real warm, for that matter. Maybe even a little sweaty. Yawning, I sat up from bed and looked toward the window but noticed that the curtains were drawn. I don’t typically do that. If the sunlight can’t come in during the morning, I usually won’t wake up on time. I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, and suddenly, I realized that those were… not my curtains. And this wasn’t my room.

Awareness coming back, I swallowed, only to be met with an unfamiliar taste. My ear turned up, and that’s when I noticed the breathing. Not my breathing.

I turned my head to the other side of the bed, and horror set in. A stallion. Lime green coat, white and black two-tone mane that looked like somepony’s hooves had been all over it. Somepony I didn’t even recognize! Oh, good Goddess, please tell me, I didn’t…

I pulled back the bed sheet, only to be met with my worst fear. His little soldier was ready for round two, and I was sitting on a stain, still slightly wet to the touch. No, no, no, no, no! This did not happen! I’m not the kinda pony who does this! We were raised better! This is something Rarity would do, not me! Who even is this guy!? I’ve never seen him around Ponyville; does he even live here!? Where am I!?

I checked the room again, saw the carelessly discarded uniform, then found my hat. Carefully, I crept out of the bed, praying with all my might that I didn’t wake this guy up. Luckily, he didn’t stir much. I grabbed my hat, found the door, and got out of that room as quickly and quietly as I could.

Blinded by the outside light, I realized it wasn’t even close to morning right now. Once my vision cleared, I recognized the building as a motel close to the train station. My head starting to clear, a memory crept back in:

“Pretty? Me? Well, ain’t y’all a smoo -hic- smooth talker. You’re pretty cute yourself, soldier boy~”

My hooves slowly moved to cover my face. I didn’t even make him work for it! I just… I just…! I just gave it away! Plastered, desperate, and lonely, what else was I gonna do!? Oh, for fuck’s sake, why in the hell did I go to that bar!?

---

The next week, I felt sick every morning. A phantom feeling of somepony I don’t know missing beside me, a new craving for touch in places I shouldn’t have it, a dark bitter hatred for anything that might take my faculties away from me. How could I do that? Me, of all ponies?

I haven’t had time for stallions since I was a teenager. I hadn’t thought about ‘em since I was a filly fantasizing about the day I met somepony like Pa. One bad night of drunken anger, and suddenly I lose one more precious thing that was supposed to be special and mine alone to give away? What in the world is happening to me?

Of course, it was never as if things would just suddenly be different now that everypony’s bore witness to making vows. Gone even more now, talking to her parents about land prices and negotiating deals behind our backs with his family’s best interests at heart. Uh-huh. Don’t discuss it with me, the other pony who’s kept us alive all these years, but take it up with all these new ponies you’re turning into family instead. Because that’s how it is.

Naturally, this is all just fine and dandy, because on top of everything, Granny’s developed a cough and is now bedridden. Applebloom picked up an unsolicited job in nursing, and Mac has decided to put his grand schemes on hold till she’s back on her hooves.

Buried in work, full to the brim with all consuming dread and anxiety, hope dying on an altar and stabbed through with ‘I do,’ this had to be the bottom, right? Course not. Anypony of my political persuasion knows, ‘this is only your worst day, so far.’

---

It’d been a few weeks since Granny went down, and finally, it looked like whatever sickness she had was fading away. She actually managed to get out of bed this morning and was in the kitchen making breakfast before anypony was any wiser to it.

I, on the other hoof, felt like I was the one coming down with whatever instead. Gotta hit the bathroom at random hours of the night, eat like a damn pig, and for all of that eating, I can’t seem to keep it down either. And yet, no fever, no weakness; just a few cold sweats and a near routine need ta vomit.

I’d gotten up that morning to take care of this strange new business when I heard the sound of something frying in the kitchen. The sun wasn’t up yet, so I doubted it was Sugarbelle, and the others aren’t real restless in their sleep like I am. Wondering what was going on, I tramped on down the stairs to find out.

“Ooh, good morning Ap-ple-jack!” Granny said in some cheery singsong tone like nothing was ever wrong.

Dumbfounded, I checked the clock over the entrance to the kitchen, only to be met with four thirty AM. This was early, even for her.

“Uh… mornin’, Granny.” I didn’t exactly know how to react to this.

But Granny sure did. “Well? What’re ya standin’ round fer? Help me out and put a pot on fer everypony! Y’all’ve been workin’ so hard fer me these past few weeks, Ah thought Ah ought ta feed ya at least. Ya don’t know when Mac and Sugarbelle will be up, do ya?”

Using specific names? Memory of being sick? What in the world? Trying to find the words, I stammered. “Uh… ya know, five thirty, at least. Are ya… are ya feelin’ alright, Granny?”

She frowned as if I’d asked her a question in a language she didn’t know. “Am Ah feelin’ alright? Course Ah am! Now get yer tail movin’ and start on that coffee! Can’t focus on the haybacon if Ah’m tryin’ ta get coffee started, ya know?”

Old instincts had me heed Granny despite the pure wonder of it all. How long has it been since the last real clear day? I know she has a habit of acting like she remembers things, feinting knowledge like a child under a teacher’s glare, but this wasn’t anything she could know unless she did know.

I got to work filling the pot and throwing it on a burner then putting the coffee in the filter. She’d cut apples with skill and ease, mix a bowl of batter like somepony in good health, she timed everything perfectly. I haven’t seen this mare in over a year.

I’d sat down with a fresh coffee as the morning went on, and ponies started ta filter down-stairs slowly.

“So,” Applebloom began, a strange curiosity between us as she sat down at the table beside me, “do ya have any idea what’s goin’ on here?”

Taking another sip of my coffee, I shook my head. “Sugracube, Ah’ve been watchin’ all morning, and Ah haven’t had a clue.”

Her brows furrowed. “All mornin’? How long has she been at this?”

I shrugged. “Hell if Ah know. It was four thirty when Ah looked the first time.”

A puff of air hit my face. “Four thirty? Granny aside, what were you doin’ up at four thirty?”

I pressed my lips together. I hadn’t told anypony about whatever sickness had me; for the most part, I’d gotten away without anypony seeing. I didn’t know if she suspected me of anything, but I’d like to keep it that way. “Oh, ya know. Bathroom. One of those times, Ah guess.”

“Hmm,” and she squinted at me. “Y’all uh… ya know. Bleedin’?”

I blinked. “Wha—” Then, it hit me. “Oh, no. Sorry, Ah guess Ah didn’t choose my words all that careful.”

Applebloom nodded and leaned back in her chair. “Okay. Ah, uh… A few weeks ago, ya know. We usually have these things around the same time, so Ah figured…”

I shook my head and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Nah. Just hadn’t thought of that. If yer cycle already started, Ah should get mine soon. Not that Ah’m lookin’ forward to it, anyways. It’s June after all.”

Sighing, Applebloom rested her head on the table. “Ya think Sugarbelle’s gonna be on hers soon?”

I snorted. “Ah hope so. There’d be an awful lot more noise around this time next year if she ain’t. Frankly, Ah don’t know when she might go through that. Just pray that she does and that Mac kept his promise this time around. All this crap, then a foal on top? Everypony’d drown.”

A shiver shook through Applebloom and she crossed her forelegs. “Oh, Goddess. What a nightmare that’d be. Granny drives me crazy as it is; it’d be up ta me help Sugarbelle too, wouldn’t it?”

Ah laughed and nodded. “Oh, sure. He and Ah would have ta work twice as hard at that point, so you’re certainly just as screwed as we’d be. Better keep an eye on her; make sure she’s not gettin’ up at night ta—”

Everything went cold. As far as I knew, the clock stopped ticking. What was I describing symptoms of? Why, oh, good Goddess, why, does that sound so horrifyingly familiar? Was… was I? That night, if… but! No! It’s not possible! I was a virgin before then, there’s no way I…

“Applejack? Are ya… ya alright?”

Remembering to breathe, I swallowed. “Yeah, sure.” A hoof found its way to my temple and the air seeped out of me. “Ah, uh. Ah just remembered that Ah need ta run ta the store. We’re almost out of toilet paper. Would ya mind takin’ over fer me this afternoon while Ah take care of it?”

The lie came as naturally to me as anything would, but I suppose that was because only half the truth was coming out. We did need it, but it wasn’t because of the extra pony in the house; I’d been using it abnormally. There was something wrong with me. It’s been four weeks since that night, if… if I really…

No, no, that just can’t be. Not like this.

“Sure, Ah guess. Ah mean, if it’s that big a deal, Ah could just go—”

“No!” I stopped her. “Ah’ll… Ah’ll take care of it.”

More confused than anything, Applebloom slowly let her eyes drift away from me apprehensively. “Oh-kay then…”

---

At what point did I cross over into the dream realm? There was no way this wasn’t somepony’s nightmare, possibly even mine. It just couldn’t be reality. Not truth. An illusion. A movie about somepony else’s life. Not my life.

I was an upright mare. I was the mare other ponies looked up to and said, ‘Now that’s a pony who knows what she believes and lives like a pony true to her values.’ I was honesty, I was integrity, I was the one who was unwilling to fall into temptation and keep focused, keep hold of my emotions and give nothing away to anypony who didn’t deserve it.

Then again, I also remember being called humble at one point, and a humble pony wouldn’t point out how good she was. If I were a good pony, a righteous mare like my parents taught me to be, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t have lost my temper and drowned my sorrows in whiskey, I wouldn’t have wandered to that bar half-intoxicated, and I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t be…

I threw that thing in the trash. “Damn it!”

I slammed my hoof into the bathroom stall door, only to put a dent in it. My lip quivered, shame crept up my spine, and I covered my eyes as I leaned back on the toilet.

“Why me? What did Ah do ta deserve this? Things were fine before; how…? How did it come ta this?”

Do I even know his name? I don’t know who he is, or what he does, or why he was in town that night, or if he’s still here, or anything! Oh, Goddess among us, what am I gonna do? How am I supposed to tell anypony about this? They’ll find out soon enough, one way or another. I knew it looked like I was starting to put on some weight, but…

Oh, Goddess, why me?

---

Ever so slowly, the days crept by. It wouldn’t be long before June turned to July and I’d be through the first month. I could feel him growing all the while. I don’t know what made me decide on ‘he,’ but nonetheless, that’s what I called him. There must be a wire crossed somewhere because, even through all the wallowing and despair, every time I’d feel him move around in there, it’d make my heart flutter. A lost instant in time where the idea of a new Apple growing in what we thought was dead soil gave me hope that things weren’t quite so bad.

Was it instinct that gave me these little bright moments? Perhaps, but it was without question intellect that brought the all-consuming wave of horror that’d always follow. My baby’s kicking. What if somepony notices? What if they just so happen to bump into me right when he decides to move? They’ll find out! They’ll know what I did; I’ll have no way to hide him anymore.

‘Applejack, how could you!’

‘Applejack, for all the shit ya gave me fer Cheerilee, ya go off and do somethin’ like this.’

And then, the worst thing anypony could possibly say, ‘Well, perhaps the circumstances aren’t great, but isn’t this wonderful? You’re having a—’

She’d say it. She wants one; she really does. Chomping at the bit ta be a real Apple, impatiently waiting every day fer that wedding ta come closer so she can be fertile soil fer her beloved planter. The mare’s got foal fever like a fish outta water.

Another thing she has that I didn’t is the will to wait. Being around her is just Goddess damned sickening, I tell ya what. A perfect little angle sent from the Goddess herself to save Mac from ruin and take him away from this dying orchard to give him the life he’s always dreamed of. A homemaker like no other, a mare who loves him more than anything else, a perfect little wife-to-be that swooped in and brought him out of his darkest abyss.

Goddess, damn her!

I know better than to think like this. I know it’s my fault and not hers. I know she hasn’t done anything wrong and there’s no reason for me to be angry at her, but what else am I supposed to do with all of these emotions? It’s like I’ve lost my self-control. I can hardly restrain myself from throwing a fit, I hit apple trees like they’ve got her face taped on ‘em, and even the littlest thing is enough to set me off. You can’t leave unclean pans on the counter, you iron the dress shirts, you don’t just hang ‘em out to dry, why do you have to leave makeup on my sink!? I haven’t blown up yet, but it’s just a ticking time-bomb waiting to go off.

Worse than the anger, though, was the crying. Holing up in my room, hiding under the covers and sobbing in the dark with the door locked. Fall asleep with a wet face, the damn pillow needs to be washed every other day from all the snot and gunk that comes out, and it just won’t stop. How disgusting can I be?

I can’t tell them; I can’t. I can’t confide in anypony. Pinkie can’t keep a secret to save her life; Twilight’s too busy to get a hold of; Dash has a real job, her dream job no less, so I can’t put this on her shoulders. I’d be willing to talk to Fluttershy, but not with Discord hanging around her like he does. He’d shout it to the world; he’d probably go find the father and tell him if he got wind of it.

Rarity…

She… she would understand. She’d know what to say. This is her nightmare too, but she’d actually deserve it if it happened to her.

Not that… not that this isn’t my fault in the first place. Not that I don’t deserve it for going out to a bar half-drunk and in heat. Why did I do something so Goddess damned stupid!?

---

The wedding is set for mid-August. It was July first, and I was slowing down. Ponies, even outside the ones I lived with, began to notice I was breathing hard and not getting as much done in a day. I was sleeping longer, going to the bathroom more frequently, feeling pains in my belly that I’d never felt before.

I never did get a hold of Rarity. Alongside the slow march of new concrete sidewalks appearing all around town, telephone poles and radio towers multiplied up and down the main roads. As I understand it, the way these things work is that you change your voice into some kinda energy, which is then sent away via… more energy, then turned back into voice when it hits the other end of a wire. Course, Rarity has what Twi called ‘cellular,’ which might as well be magic as far as I’m concerned.

I tried to use the payphone, which was ironically installed beside the bar, five times. Five days, five different times, every single call left unanswered.

I gave up.

I was giving up on that hot afternoon of July first when I heard a word. An evil word to be sure, but a very sweet-sounding word that took me by surprise. My ears turned; my head twisted to look at the mares as they gossiped. I listened intently.

“…ya know? Rich ponies have it easy, I swear.”

She had an accent like she belonged up north.

“Really? That just sounds a little… I don’t know. Don’t you think she’ll regret it?”

Neither of these mares stood out too much. I recognized one that I’d seen around town as Aromatice, who runs a cafe a little ways away, but I didn’t know the other.

“Regret? Who cares? She’s loaded now! And it’s not like she can’t do it again later when she’s, like, actually in love or something. Look, she was poor before. Ponies like her with lots like that, they always get screwed, and usually, they end up raising some stallion’s foal without even knowing him.”

Now didn’t that sound familiar.

“I… guess. How old is she?”

“Prune? Oh, uh… sixteen, I think.”

Aromatice gasped. “Oh, Goddess! What a creep!”

“Sure, but a loaded creep, remember? I can’t give his name since that’s part of the contract, but one night of fun gone wrong sets her up for life, and she isn’t stuck with the kid.”

My ears twitched. Isn’t stuck with… the kid. It’d still be hard to dig us out of this hole we’re in right now, but if I weren’t expecting, maybe…

“Well, did it hurt?”

“Nope. The Doc shot her up full of anesthesia, and she didn’t feel a thing. Water weight was gone a few weeks after. It was like she never got knocked up in the first place.”

Like it never happened?

“Did her mom know?”

The mare telling the story waved the question away like it was buzzing around her head. “Forget about it. This guy totally made sure to keep things tight between them, ya know?”

“Why do you know?”

“I mean, I’m the owner, right? Anything goes wrong in the bar, I’m the one the girls come to first. She got a bad hoof in life, grew up without a father and a deadbeat mom, and there was an opportunity here. I just made the arrangements.”

Aromatice giggled. “Geez, Daiquiri, you’re kind of a bitch, ya know?”

Shrugging, Daiquiri smiled. “Yeah, comes with the territory. Look, next time you’re in Manehattan…”

I’d stopped paying attention at that point. A way out of all of this

Like it never happened.

---

It’d been a week after that awful, sweet-sounding word had been planted in my head. Every time he moved, I felt it. Every time he was silent, I wondered how it would be if he weren’t there. I might not be happy, but would I still be miserable? Every time somepony said something about my frequent bathroom visits or my near constant eating, that evil idea’s roots burrowed deeper into my heart.

One morning, Granny had been lost in her sea of memories more so than usual, and we were having trouble getting her ashore in the present instead of heading out to the orchard like a healthy young sailor.

“Buttercup, Ah know ya mean well, but Ah assure ya, Ah’m right as rain! If Ah don’t work, who’s gonna take up the torch in my place? Ya know Spruce ain’t been alive fer years now, and Bright can’t handle everythin’ on his own!”

“Granny, Ah’m not Ma, and ya ain’t fifty anymore. Yer son died a decade ago, and ya broke yer hip two years ago; ya cannot go out there buckin’ apple trees!”

Still trying to push past me and get to the door, I grabbed Granny by the shoulders and forced her back into the living room. Shockingly, she just about growled at me.

“Buttercup, look, Ah know ya’ve been eatin’ too much, but don’t’cha get all moody on me, Missy! Ah’ve been where you are before! Just because Ah only had one don’t mean Ah don’t know what planted fields look like!”

Ice filled my veins. “G-Granny! Ah am not Buttercup! Buttercup was my Ma; Ah am Applejack! Ap-ple-jack! Don’t’cha remember? C-come on, Granny, ya don’t mean it!”

Finally, thankfully, familiar confusion washed over Granny’s face. She stopped fighting with me and looked me in the eyes long and hard.

“Apple… jack…” she repeated, slowly. She nodded once. Nodded twice. Then tilted her head and looked at my side. “Applejack, my grandbaby. Ah remember, Ah do.” For a minute there, I was relieved that she said my name like that. However, then, she looked me up and down again. “Ah don’t remember ya bein’ this big though. Maybe Ah’m confused, Sugarcube, but ya have been eatin’ a bundle, haven’t’cha?”

It wasn’t hot in the house, I shouldn’t be sweating like this. A nervous laugh escaped me. “Ha-ha! N-no, Granny, you’re probably thinkin’ of Ma again. Ah… Ah’ve always been like this! Yer memory ain’t what it used ta be, ya called me Buttercup twice just now, don’t’cha know? Just, please go sit down, will ya? It’s hard enough as it is ta get everythin’ done in a day without you fightin’ me ta come do work ya aren’t fit ta do anymore.”

Thoughtful, wistful, even a little ashamed, Granny’s head bowed, then her shoulders slumped. “Oh…” She turned away. “Ah’m sorry, Sugarcube. Ah’ll… Ah’ll go sit down.”

Dragging her hooves as if she were a filly reprimanded by her mother, she sat down in her rocking chair and slowly began to rock.

She must’ve thought I didn’t feel bad enough, because that...? That was a bolt stabbing through my heart. Pain welling up inside, I couldn’t just stand there and watch her, so I went out the door. I never would’ve said something like that to Granny before.

Maybe… I am moody.

---

Granny equating me to Ma is one thing; it’s a normal part of my day most days. Granny clearing up and taking note of my size is another. Eating too much, ‘planted fields.’ If she had any consistent sanity, she could’ve caught me right then and there. If nothing else, she would’ve become suspicious, and it wouldn’t be long till she found out the truth.

Something had to be done. If even Granny‘s starting to notice, I’m running out of time. I can’t do this. I can’t tell them. I can’t raise a kid and save the farm. I couldn’t, no, I wouldn’t give up my baby to live an orphan’s life like we did.

But… there was one option. It could all be avoided if there was no baby, right? No admission of guilt, no drowning in work, no failure to be a mother, and the orchard could still be saved. It’d be simple. Painless, even, if that Daquiri mare is to be believed. Nopony would get hurt. It would all be over.

The next morning, I told everypony I needed to run an errand, and then I went out. A hot day to be sure, but a pleasant morning. The sun was just over the horizon, the sky was a lovely cyan, no clouds to be seen, and there was a breeze that was a little cooler than it had any right to be. There couldn’t have been a better morning to feel all that weight lifted off my shoulders, to be freed of something I didn’t need, to have a challenge I knew I wasn’t capable of overcoming taken away from me.

Ponyville General Hospital had seen significant renovations in the past year. Of the technology Twilight prioritized, medical equipment was number one, followed by cellular and then that uh… computer stuff, that’s right. Medicine in Equestria was already good with the unicorn doctors we had, but now, anypony can perform a surgery that only unicorns could before. In just that, Twi has probably saved more lives this year than we had avoiding all those disasters in the years before. Humans knew a thing or two about creatures like us, and boy howdy, was she quick to learn it all. Something as trivial as… that wouldn’t take but a minute or two now. Just a few minutes and it’d all be over.

And here I was, walking around in circles just outside the hospital, repeating that phrase. Just a few minutes; a month and a half of agony would all just disappear. No more waiting, no more worrying. The biggest obstacle on my plate would be gone. All I have to do is walk on in.

“Don’t you think she’ll regret it?”

“No! What’s there to regret!?” This stupid tree is spitting words at me, ain’t it!? Why do you sound so panicked? Why’s there a tremble in your voice? This is the only way forward! The last option! “It’s not my fault this happened! It was that damn stallion! He did this to me!” I punched that damned tree right in the face. Spit at me again, I dare ya! Sweat ran down my forehead and curled along my snout. What am I sweating for? It was cool out with a nice breeze. I didn’t walk far; why do I feel like I‘ve worked a day just getting here?

“It was like she never got knocked up in the first place.”

Growling at the tree, I shot back, “But that’s not how I’ll remember it, and ya know it! Ma died because she didn’t take this option! If Ah don’t do this, Ah’ll end up like her, won’t Ah? Ah’ll get buried under everythin’ and drown in my own blood, just like her!” The damned tree didn’t do anything but shape its bark into crooked teeth. It needed to be taught a lesson, smashed into treating a mare right! A grunt of effort, I threw another hoof at it, burning with hatred. The bark shattered, the leaves shook, but it didn’t shut the tree up.

“It’d be up ta me ta help her too, wouldn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t exist! You would’ve died in her place! Ah could’ve grown up with two parents and no little sister if it weren’t fer you!” More sweat rolled down my face in a steady stream, almost like it was from my eyes. Why won’t it stop? Why can’t this damn tree just mind it’s own business and let me be!? I just want it to end, I can do it right now, just let me be, damn you, let me be!

My hooves were starting to get tired. The bark was mostly gone now, but I couldn’t make it stop.

“Sugarcube, promise me you’ll love yer little sister like Ah love y’all, wont’cha?”

I ground my teeth together and let sear away the exhaustion. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

Why, why, why!? I know what it is! I know what this is, I’ve always known—why couldn’t you just let me go!? The sweat was more than I could bear now. Hot and stinging, it’d washed over my eyes and nothing was clear anymore. This damn tree, this damn tree! Take that, and that, and that! Let me go! Stop reminding me! I know what it is, I know what it is, damn it!

Finally, I landed my last assault on that horrible, horrible tree, and collapsed. Gasping for breath, forelegs seething in pain, stupid, stupid sweat still draining from my eyes. When I caught my breath, I rolled over. My empty gaze found the clear blue sky. Endless and unyielding. I’d lost.

It wasn’t sweat. It never was. The tree wasn’t talking to me; this wasn’t one of Discord’s pranks. It was all me. Even Aromatice could see what this was. How that Prune girl will come to regret what she’s done once she realizes what it is. We know not what we do. But I do. And… so did she.

Wiping at my eyes and catching my breath, I stood up. This poor tree had taken all of my abuse in stride. Beaten, dented, missing leaves all over, no bark to be seen. A little speckle of blood here and there. As time goes by, this dent will probably never heal. It will always be there, keeping the pain right on its face and showing it off to the rest of the world. This damned tree will never forget what I said to it. Neither will I.

I smoothed my mane down, picked my hat back up, and turned back toward home. A righteous mare wouldn’t consider this option. A truly good pony didn’t take it.

Not even to save her own life.

Comments

[TCC56]

Well this is taking a mighty dark turn.