> Broken Wings
>  by Wewilto6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> A Memory
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The mare winced as a hoof came down on her again from the darkness, gasping for air as it made painful impact with her abdomen. She recoiled from the blow, bending to clutch her stomach as another set of angry hooves forced her into the dirty ally wall behind her, tripping over a piece of debris. She almost cried out as the hard surface slammed into her back and head. She clenched her teeth in pain as she slid down the surface helplessly, falling into a large puddle below her. She bit back a scream. The mare put a shaky hoof on the wet pavement below her, trying to stabilize herself as the dark outline of another hoof swung into her stomach, causing her to fall back down into the puddle in a splash of muddy water. She almost vomited, putting her hooves in front of her face as a familiar set of hooves hit her again, crying out as whoever it was placed fresh bruises on her jaw and arm. She closed her eyes tight, clenching her teeth as sharp bursts of pain riveted through her body, her fresh tears beginning to mix with the rain that fell from the smoggy night sky above.

A small filly danced across the room, giggling wildly as a pony near three times her size swung her around in circles, laughing just as happily. 
“Wheee!” the small brown filly exclaimed joyously, her sky-blue mane whipping about as she swung around. 
The two danced to the beat of a nearby record, Heart and Soul on piano. A table stood near the wall, lined with a couple small packages and a card: “Happy Birthday, Quick,” it read across the inner flap in clean, cursive writing. A darker toned stallion sat in a chair at the end of the table; his gloomy head leaned against a nearby window as he watched the warm light of the sun fad behind the mountains surrounding their home. The pony gave a long sigh, a tone of boredom and longing in his young voice.
The older pony stumbled and tripped as his hoof caught the carpet at a weird angle, landing on his back and inadvertently pulling the small filly with him. He gave a look of worry before catching the small creature in his outstretched hooves, sighing in relief as the little pony giggled, clearly entertained by the event. “Again!” she exclaimed, her tiny, mocha hooves outstretched to the stallion’s face. “Do it again, Daddy!”
The father chuckled and placed a light grey hoof on her head, looking at her with soft, blue eyes, “If we do that again, you’re old dad might break something.” He said with a small smile.
The filly looked back at him with her deep, purple eyes, pouting slightly as her father pulled her a bit closer. “Hey Quick,” he whispered to her, excitement showing on his slightly wizened face as he reached behind him. “I got something for ya.” 
Quicksilver gazed at him in silent anticipation, growing ecstatic as a basketball-sized green box laced with white ribbon appeared in his outstretched hoof. She took it in her small forelegs, putting it in her lap as she leaned in close to admire the white ribbon gracing the top. She gasped a little in excitement, “What is it?” she asked, putting her ear against the light green wrapping.
“You’ll just have to find out.” The older pony responded, tapping her nose gently with his hoof.
The filly took a moment to admire the beautiful white ribbon before carefully detaching it from its partner, the green box. She then quickly tore into the paper and opened the box, reaching her tiny hooves inside to find something. She stopped as her hoof tapped something fuzzy, clutching the object; she brought it out to her face, gasping in delight as she looked upon the hazel-colored teddy bear in front of her. “I love it! She exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement as she squeed.         .    She set upon it like a bear trap, embracing it tightly as she nuzzled her face into the soft, walnut-scented fur. “But not as much as I love you, dad.” She then said softly, turning herself from the bear and embracing her father just as tightly.
“Happy Birthday Quick,” the father said with a happy smile as he stroked her mane softly. “I made it myself, just for you.”
The pony in the corner sighed again, scowling as he lifted himself from the table, his gaze shifting from the dark window to his father across the room. “I’m going to bed,” he said with an almost angry tone. 
The father interjected as his son began to move away. “Hold on there, Joey. It’s your sister’s eighth birthday. You should stay.”
The son turned his head as he stopped at a nearby doorframe, glaring over his shoulder as he eyed his father, “It’s Joseph, dad. Good night.” He said sharply, closing the door hard behind him.
Quick’s father gave a sad sigh, watching the door for a few moments before he turned back to his daughter. “It’s alright Quick, your brother’s just being a bit… difficult.” He trailed off as his eyes wandered to a hole in the wooden floor.
“O-okay dad…” she said in response, stuttering a bit in her worry. She stifles a yawn, trying to hide it from her father.
“I think it’s best we head on off to bed, Quick.” Her father said, breaking out of his trance and noticing her yawn.
Quicksilver crossed her forelegs and turned her eyes away, pouting. “I’m not tired!” she exclaimed in rebuttal. “I can stay up way, way later!” She yawned again, accidentally, making her pout even further.
Her father sighed and lifted her up, smiling warmly to her as he began to carry her across the living room to a door, “Quick’s Room” was engraved across the top as Quick’s father reached for the knob and opened it gently. He brought Quick across the room and lied her down softly in her bed, bringing the soft covers up over her and tucking them under her chin delicately. “Goodnight Quick,” he said as he kissed her on the forehead.
“Good night dad! And thanks for the party.” Quick responded energetically, smiling as she hugged her new bear just as tightly as before, thinking to herself that she wasn’t going to sleep at all.
Quick’s father waved his silent goodbye as he gently shut her door behind him, “Happy birthday.” He said as a farewell. 
He made his way across the living room, smiling warmly as he thought of how happy his daughter was. After cleaning up the bits of green paper on the floor, he noticed that the white lace that had adorned the gift was missing. He shrugged and continued cleaning, putting away the records and pushing in the chairs before finally trudging towards the stairs, a look of exhaustion in his soft, blue eyes. He stopped at the foot of the stairway, his hoof just grazing the first step as he heard a click behind him. “What are you doing up?” He asked the invisible noise, a slight tone of agitation in his voice.

Quick woke with a start, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she realized that she did, in fact, fall asleep. “Dang it.” She said in defeat, giving a sad look to her bear, which lay across from her with a white lace tied around its right arm. “I’m sorry,” she told it with regret. “I didn’t stay up like we planned…”
Quicksilver perked her ears up as she heard a voice from outside her door. No, two voices, actually.
“What’s got you so upset?” said one of them, agitation clear in his deep voice as it became evident that he was trying to keep the volume down.
“What’s got me upset?” responded a second voice, not caring to be quiet as he spoke in anger. “It’s this entire place!”
“Shhh! You’ll wake your sister!” Interjected the first voice, louder this time.
“She’s probably already awake!” Responded the other, his opinion on volume having not changed in the slightest.
The first voice raised his volume as he asked, “What’s wrong with this place?” Quicksilver recognized it to be her father.
“Everything! We’re PEGASI for buck’s sake! We don’t work farms! That’s an earth pony job, we belong in the skies!”
“This farm has been run by our family for generations, it’s traditional.”
“Screw tradition! What makes you think that Quicksilver and I want to be locked up here our whole lives? Quick wants to be a racer, not a Celestia-damned seed planter!”
“Watch your tone, Joseph!” Interrupted Quick’s father, angrily. “Going to Manehatten is absolutely out of the question. The place is dirty, crowded, and most of all, dangerous. That city does things to ponies.”
“You’re unbelievable! I’m eighteen now, dad! I’m an adult, I can make my own choices!”
“Under this roof, you live by my rules. And I say that you may not and will not go to that Celestia-forsaken city!” responded his father forcefully. “And don’t even think of-“
The gray pony stopped as he saw a small figure in the doorway to their left, tears in the figure’s deep, purple eyes as Quick looks at them from behind the opened door.
“Quick…” The father trotted over quickly and hugged her tightly, stroking her mane comfortingly as Quicksilver cried softly on his shoulder. “Look what you’ve done now, Joseph…”
Joseph didn’t give a verbal response, instead he glared at his father with his crimson eyes and trudged angrily to his room, shutting the door hard behind him and causing the wood to chip.
Quick’s father tensed in both frustration and anger as he listened to the door slam behind his son. “Let’s get you back to bed, sweetie…” He then said, lifting Quick up and wiping a fresh tear from her eye. “It’ll all be alright…”
Quicksilver looked up at him in worry with her big, trembling eyes as he carried her to her bed. She closed her eyes as her father tucked her in again, kissing her good night before backing towards the door. “I love you, Quick.” He told her sincerely as he once again gently shut the door behind him.
Quicksilver buried her face in her bear, smelling the strong scent of walnut as her nose pressed against its hazel fur. She shook and trembled as the bear’s soft fur absorbed the wetness streaming from her eyes. All the while, she tried to ignore the small shadow in the corner of the room.

Quicksilver woke up slowly, feeling the soft bristle of fur against her cheek as she lifted her face away from the brown teddy bear by her side. She sat up, rubbing both her eyes as her vision began to adjust. Quick looked drowsily around the room.
Her sleepiness was instantly broken as an amazing smell hit her nose. Her eyes opened wider as she perked up her ears, leaning forward a bit to try and get a better smell. What is that? She thought to herself.
The little filly jumped out of her bed, letting the covers hit the floor as her hooves landed awkwardly, causing her to wobble slightly as she regained her bearings. She did a brisk trot across the room, stopping at the door and cracking it just an inch, sticking her nose out and inhaling deeply.
Quicksilver smiled in excitement as she realized what the smell was. Dad made pancakes! She exclaimed joyfully in her mind.
The brown filly opened her door the rest of the way, trotting out to the kitchen where she spotted her father rinsing dishes in the kitchen sink. She looked and noticed that the table was set with exactly what she expected, home-cooked pancakes and eggs. 
“Dig in.”
A plate of food was happily placed at the end of the table, still steaming with its freshness.
Quicksilver could hardly contain her excitement. She rocketed towards the chair like a rabid animal, digging into the food ferociously. The food was delicious; her dad had always made it for her on special or happy occasions. 
‘Sad one’s too…’ She said in her mind, becoming concerned. She slowed down as she realized that her father might be feeling down, but she quickly dismissed it as her dad gave her a convincing smile, well concealing his feelings behind his wizened features.
“Slow down there now, Quick.” He began to scold. “You’ll get the hiccups.”
Quicksilver stopped mid-bite, a piece of pancake inches from her hungry mouth. 
  Hic! 
Quick’s father sighed and rubbed his temples. “I told you this would happen.” He patted her tiny head, her blue mane puffing as her head bobbed down a few times. She reached a mocha hoof towards her mane, fidgeting with it for a few moments. 
‘Why does he always do that?’ She thought to herself. She always had told him that she hated her mane being ruffled, but that was a lie.
“So Quick,” began her dad, pulling away her empty plate and wiping small bits of food off her cheek. “You ready to learn?”
Quick’s eyes widened in terror as she heard the dreaded question. Being far from any real school facilities, Quick was homeschooled. She glanced around the room, looking to a closet and the entrance to the basement, desperately trying to find with her eyes a way to escape.
“I know that look, Quick. Don’t even think abo-“ He cut off as he looked at the empty chair in front of him, its wooden structure still wobbling from the bullet it had just fired. “Quicksilver!”
Quicksilver scampered across the wooden floor as she dashed along its surface. “No!” she exclaimed rebelliously in her high-pitched filly voice, skidding around a corner and running down the hall, her hurried hoofsteps resonating through the house. “I don’t wanna!”
Her father ran after her, groaning. “This again…”
He stopped his pursuit as he found himself in a quiet, empty room. “Quick?” he asked the air, cautiously. “You in here?”
The gray stallion perked one of his ears, listening carefully.
Hic!
The closet door opened quickly, revealing a pile of coats lining the interior. Quick’s father scrutinized the mass of clothing, analyzing every detail. Red, gray, black, orange…. blue. He smiled as he noticed the trail of sky-blue coming from the clothes pile. “Come on out Quick.”
The blue moved just slightly, but the coats remained quiet.
Quick’s father tapped his hoof impatiently. “I can see you, you know?”
The clothes ruffled slightly as a small, brown face emerged halfway from the pile. Quick looked down in both defeat and shame, fearing whatever would happen next. “I’m sorry dad…”
Her father sighed and stepped backwards, motioning for her to exit her hideout. Quick pulled herself out slowly, her head bowed towards the floor as she began to walk towards the kitchen with a coat still draped over her head.
“You have to study Quick, it’s just the way it is.” Said her father as she guided her back to the dinning room table. “Could you grab my hat, please?” He then asked her, gesturing towards a shelf.
Quick dashed over and reached towards it, balancing on the tips of her hooves. She brought it down and looked at its tan exterior, admiring the craftsmanship. She looked at the name embroidered near the brim, “Terras Silver”.
The two sat down near each other, Terras receiving his tan hat and placing it on his head. Quick watched the table and fiddled with her mane as her father brought out a binder labeled “Grammar”. Quick’s eyes widened as she began to slowly recognize the word written across the blue cover. She groaned and put her head in her hooves.
“I know you don’t like grammar, Quick,” her father began, folding the binder open and taking out the papers within. “But you need to practice.”
Quick groans again, whining, “But I suck at it!”
Her father sighed and took out a packet of papers with grammar exercises on written on them. Taking out a pencil, he placed the homework in front of her.
Quick lied her chin on the table in defeat, scanning over the words. ‘What is the past tense of run? _______’	 It said at the top, the blank line mocking her limited skill at language. She thought for a moment, lifting the pencil up as she stared at the word “run”. She put the graphite to the paper and wrote “runed”.
“No Quick, that’s not right. Run is different from other words, its past tense is ‘ran’.”
“Oh.” was Quick’s only response. She moved onto question 2: “What is the past tense of fly?” 
She stopped, thinking hard. Flyed? No… um, Flan? Flayned? Um… 
Quick whimpered and lied her chin down in defeat on the table, the letters continuing to jump around in her mind.
“Flew.” 
Quick sighed in relief as the letters in her mind finally calmed down and found their correct placement. She wrote the word in the blank space and started to go down the paper. 
'Question 3: What is the past tense of Draw? _______'
Quick thought hard on this one, trying to hunt down the correct letters in her mind. Drawed, hmmm…. Dr-drewed? Drew? Drew!
Quick happily wrote her realization in the blank, taking a moment to feel proud.
Her father peeked over at the page and smiles, “You did it!” he exclaimed, pride in his voice.
Quick grinned with joy. She then proceeded through the other exercises, stumbling over almost half of them. She swallowed as she filled in the last blank. “Swimed”. She rested her head on her hoof and stared gloomily at her answers, over half of them being wrong. She had struggled on them, over 30 minutes had passed and she only had filled in ten answers. She looked through the door to the kitchen and peered at the clock above the stove, sighing as she remained seated in front of the dreaded words.
A new piece of paper came in front of her, the old one being taken away and surveyed by her father, his expression turning gloomy as he finished it. “Try these Quick…” He told her, gesturing to the reading pamphlet.
Quick looks at the pamphlet, her stressed and sad expression turning to dread and horror as she gazed upon the bane of her existence. Reading.
She looked at the first sentence, the evil black runes staring back at her: 
“The dog jumped over the fence.”
“Th-the dog,” She struggled. “jum-ped o-ver the… fenky.”
The words hurt her eyes, seemingly mocking her with their malicious complexity. She swallowed, looking away in embarrassment. It was almost as if the words were laughing at her. She felt like crying, holding back tears as she struggled along. 
“No Quick, that makes an ‘s’ sound, the ‘e’ is silent” Said her father reassuringly. “You can do this, I know you can.”
Quick looked back at the words, taking a long, deep breath. “…The d-og jump-ed over the fense?”
She smiled as she realized she actually did it. She took a moment to take pride in her momentous accomplishment. She glanced at the clock, her pride shattering like a glass cup as she saw the time. 12:32. I started this sentence 15 minutes ago?!
Quick hit her head once on the wooden table and left it there, silently admitting total defeat. “I c-can’t do this! I suck!” she exclaimed gloomily.
Her father sighed and came near her to comfort her, “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow… okay Quick?”
“Ok…” She responded slowly.
“Now why don’t you go have some fun in the rain? You’ve earned it.” Her father then said, smiling at her. “I’m proud of you.”
Quick looked up from the table, a smile coming across her wet cheeks. 
“But you have to remember to put on your rain gear this ti-“ He cut off as he noticed that her chair was empty and the front door hung ajar, the rain from outside’s downpour beginning to coat the wooden floor. “How does she do that?”


Quick yawned, stretching her hooves above her head as she groggily opened her eyes and lifted herself out of bed. She rubbed her legs; still sore from all the time she spent running in the rain the day before. She beamed in excitement as she noticed that it was still raining outside, seeing water patter against the glass of her bedroom window. She had always loved the rain. The way it felt, the way it tasted, everything about it. 
After eating a quick breakfast, Quicksilver hastily pulled on two pairs of blue rain boots and started towards the door. Her father blocked her for a moment to speak with her.
“I’m off to the fields, Quick.” He began, pulling on a jacket and placing his hat atop his head. “So don’t stray to far from the house, you hear?”
Quick nodded, hardly paying attention as she eyed the open door, her hooves dancing back and forth on the hardwood floor nervously. 
“Alright then,” Terras said, smiling and standing aside. “You can go now.”
Quick squealed in excitement as she ran out into the downpour.

She laughed as she landed in another puddle, giggling joyfully as the water splashed up around her and soaked whatever part of her was still dry. Her wet mane stuck to her face as she pranced around in the puddles, jumping onto a wet patch of grass and rolling around like a puppy full of energy.
Terras chuckled as he watched her from the doorframe, wrapping his jacket closer as he began to head out into the rain along a muddy dirt road. “I’ll be back soon, Quick. I love you!” He said as he trotted down the path.
“Love you too!” She called after him as she took a brief break in her playful antics. “Wheeee-“ She finished as she rolled back down the grass into a puddle.

Quick lied on the grass, her hoof under her chin as the rain continued to fall on her head, running down her face. “Hmmm…” She began to wonder. “It’s been half an hour now…” Her pessimistic thought stopped as she dismissed it with a laugh. “Dad wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him.”
She happily resumed her play.

Quick lied across the grass on her stomach, her legs spread out lazily as she sighed over the sound of pattering water. 
“One whole hour?” She pouted, obviously bored. “How long’s it take to check a dumb cornfield? Humph.”
She rolled over on her back, gazing up at the gray sky above. “Just like dad’s coat…” She observed, looking closely at the rain clouds. She looked off to her left, her eyes following the dirt trail to the fields. She thought for a moment, jumping back and forth between what she would do. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to stray from the house; she feared what her dad might do to her if she went off towards the fields, as she was forbidden to go there alone. But she also worried for her father.
Quick closed her eyes, making her decision. 

The dirt road made wet, sludgy noises as Quick’s hooves pressed into them. The rain had made the road muddy and wet; she had to be careful not to slip. “Whoa!” She exclaimed as a hoof begin to slide out from under her. She caught herself just in time, pulling it back to its original position and cautiously continuing on her way.
She looked nervously to her left and right. Gnarled oak trees lined the edges of the road and the green fields of grass beyond, making a sparse forest. The constant rain had made a hazy mist in the forest and the area was eerily quiet. The place was beautiful, but it still managed to give off a sad, lonely feeling.
She shivered, half in cold and half in fear. I hope everything’s alright… 
She rounded a bend, passing by a large, dark oak tree with a battered tire swing strung to its thick branches. The tree’s remaining leaves fluttered lightly in the breeze as Quick passed beneath it. She averted her eyes from the old tree, something about it had always made her uncomfortable, maybe it was the way it stood over the ponies that passed under it. It seemed, well, intimidating.
Quick finally passed the wooden fence that marked the fringes of her father’s prized cornfield. The wood was old and partially rotted in places, a small piece chipped off as she slipped and bumped into it, “Ow.” She said, rubbing her side as she regained her bearings and continued on her way.
Her purple eyes scanned the fields like a hawk, looking for the white tint of her father’s coat through the swaying plants.
“Hmmmm…” She said to herself in thought, observing that her father wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “He must be somewhere around here…”
Quicksilver trudged through the waterlogged field as she continued her search. Looking down she noted to herself, “Uh oh, it’s getting wet around here.” Her claim was further backed by the splashing water that flew about as Quick placed her hooves in one of the myriads of puddles around her. The dirty, mud filled droplets flew up to meet the clear, clean droplets that came to them from the stormy sky above. She hoped her father wasn’t too overworked; taking care of corn was hard enough as it was.
Quick put her head low and surveyed the ground, walking along it like a bloodhound on the trail. “Hmmm. Hoofprints…” She observed, eyeing a set of wet indentations in the mud. She galloped off in the direction they were pointed, deeper into the cornfield.
The crops rustled and swayed as the stormy gusts of wind battered them around. Every now and then the Quick would see the constant movement of the stalks from the corner of her eye and turn to it in hope, becoming disappointed when all she saw was the yellow vegetable her family had cultivated for years. Quick began to become dismal, “Oh… What if he’s hurt? What if he got lost?” She said to herself in worry, chattering her teeth in not just cold, but fear as well. What if he was hurt? And what if he was lost? Quick didn’t want to think about these questions and emptied them from her mind with a quick shake of her head. “No. He’s fine.”

The filly continued on her search, her tiny hooves slipping and sliding in the wet mud underhoof. She couldn’t remember how long it had been by this point; her search had been going for days it seemed.
A glint caught her eye. Turning to face the small flash of light, Quick spotted a metal tool sticking out of the mud, looking as if it had shot up from the ground like one of the surrounding cornstalks. 
Quicksilver trotted over to it quickly, her hope becoming renewed as she neared the large shovel in the ground. Her hope resulted in a smile on her face.
Her smile widened as she grew closer, spotting a hoof. A leg! A coat! A hat!
A body.
The filly skidded to a stop, sliding across the mud and tripping over the limp form of Terras Silver. She raised her face from the earth, staring at her father in shock and disbelief. “Dad? Dad are you ok?!” She shouted, her small voice trembling.
Her father lied face down in a shallow, water-filled ditch, as if asleep. Quick hoped it was sleep. In a mad panic, Quick pulled herself from the soupy dirt and rushed to his side, rolling him over in an attempt to let him breathe. She watched him expectantly, thinking that any moment he’d stir and take a deep breath. 
It was more desperate hope than thought.
“D-daddy…?” She quivered, asking the motionless form of her parent. She continued to stare at his chest, waiting for the slow lift that would signal his well-being. Thirty seconds had passed, still nothing.
One minute…
Two minutes…
Five minutes…
Quick was already in tears, crying with the sky as she hugged her father close. “W-wake u-up…” She sobbed as she choked on her tears, nestling her face in his fur in hope of feeling a heartbeat, a breath, a pulse. Anything. Her father’s cold skin gave her no comfort, her dread only increasing as none of the signs she hoped for came.
Quicksilver sobbed as her despair overcame her; she lost hope, squeezing her father just as tight as the night of her birthday. Not even a twitch. He was gone.
“Dad! P-please wake up!” She pleaded to her father. “I-I’ll even do my Grammar homework! Please answer!”
But her father didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. All that remained of her loved one was a body, nothing more.
Quick completely broke down, almost suffocating on her sobs and tears. Her eyes were red and stung from the crying. It was at that moment, something broke away from Quicksilver. She couldn’t tell what it was. Something had simply broken away and walked out the front door, slamming the door behind it.
Quick wouldn’t tear herself away from her father. She clutched him tight even as the rain made her shiver. Even as the rain continued to hit her. The rain… It was all the rain’s fault…
She winced at every raindrop that hit her, feeling as if it were beating her. It mocked her, the way it continued to fall even after it had killed her father.
She still would not move. Even as she was lifted away by the dark figure behind her, it’s red eyes streaming the same water that fell from Quick’s. 

Quick sat spread out on the floor, her chin pressed against the hard, wooded surface as she lied on top of her teddy bear. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.
“Are you ready Quick…?” Came a quiet voice from her cracked door. “I think it’s time…”
Quick didn’t want to leave. She never wanted to leave her home. Manehatten was the opposite of what she wanted, the busy streets and crowded buildings made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t respond, not wanting to speak up as she gave an absentminded nod, staring at the dark shadow in the corner of her room. What was that shadow? Why was it there? 
Why did it get bigger?
The shadow terrified her. It was always there, it never moved. She had tried to expel it from her room, but to no avail. Light would not harm it. 
Quick shook her head, breaking from her daydreaming. She looked at her brother, “What?”
“We’re leaving, Quick.” Came Joseph’s voice again, trembling. “We aren’t allowed to stay here…”
Quick regretfully lifted herself from the floor, staring down. 

They packed what few things they had, leaving behind what they couldn’t carry. Quick only brought her Teddy Bear and a photo. Against what Joseph told her, she brought her favorite record. Heart and Soul.


The mare choked as a hoof hit her neck, her guard lowering. The ponies around her took advantage of the situation. A smiling red mare pulled her face out of the darkness, grabbing Quicksilver’s head and mercilessly shoving it into the deep water-filled pothole positioned near her. 
Quick screamed in terror as her face dove into the water, her heart skipping a beat on contact. her nose made painful impact with the cement and began to bleed as painful memories flashed before her eyes. She struggled hard, desperately trying anything to get her head out of the dreaded water. She was afraid of water. Ever since that day, she could never come near it. Quick flew into panic almost immediately, unintentionally releasing the air in her lungs. Bubbles flew past her face as she grew even more desperate, trying to gulp sweet air but instead filling her lungs with water, causing her to sputter. She tried to cough, but the air in her lungs was already gone. Her vision began to cloud and her head felt light, her struggling started to become lethargic and sporadic.
Quick gasped for air as her head lifted from the water, still being clutched by her sky-blue mane. She cried, sobbing hard as the horror finally ended.
The red pony smiled again and threw her back into the wall by her mane. Quick gasped and made a soft grunt as the side of her head smacked into the brick with a thud. She fell limp to the ground, losing all willpower to defend any further as her vision blurred and her ears rang.
“Happy birthday, freak.” Said the pony in a mocking tone, putting emphasis on her insult. “Want anymore presents?”
Her words stung Quick like needles, adding to her already excruciating pain. She didn’t respond, she couldn’t find her voice.
The pony kicked Quick in the face upon receiving no answer. Blood flicked into the air off Quick’s lip as her head snapped back in response. She could hardly stay awake, her vision appeared to pan and blur, growing dark in the corners. 
“See you at school, queer.” Said the red pony, kicking water in Quick’s bloodied face as she trotted out the alley, trailed by her cronies.

Quick couldn’t move, her legs wouldn’t respond and her brain wouldn’t focus. She simply lied there, her sobbing had ceased and only the tears remained. 
Quick had just turned 14. It had been six long, hard years since she moved to the city. Manehatten, the place her father always warned about, but she never knew why. She knew why know, whether it was the smoggy, polluted skies; the gangs; the uncaring masses; she didn’t know. All she did know was that she hated it here. And the city hated her just as much. 
She felt tired, her eyelids drooped. She felt as if sleep would take her at any moment. But she didn’t want to sleep, it was late and her brother didn’t know where she was. But she was tired. 
She tried in vain to keep her eyelids open, desperately attempting to keep them pried open. She couldn’t fight it. She took a long breath as she slipped into unconsciousness.
‘Joseph’ll kill me…’




*** This is my first real fanfic, so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Thanks for reading, there’s till more to come ☺ ***

> Lying
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	She woke with a start, confusion filling her mind as she tried to take in her surroundings. The wetness under her chin; the flat, cold surface against her side; the rain… where was she?
Her vision, still blurry, strained to readjust. Shapes bounced around her eyes, swimming through her vision. She squinted, the shapes beginning to calm as they consolidated into what lie in front of her. A garbage can.
Quick pulled herself from the water, making a quiet sloshing noise as she lifted from the malicious puddle that had tried to drown her. She wobbled, not able to regain her bearings as she inadvertently leaned into the wall, using its cold, broken surface for support.
The rain still fell. The building above her head kept it away from her, but she still feared its presence. Each patter of water hitting pavement made her flinch, she looked away from the droplets that fell from the sky, hugging the wall as she painstakingly made her way out of the oppressive alley way.
What day was it? What time was it? She wondered, not able to think of an exact time. Not even an estimate, for that matter. It was still dark. She hoped the darkness signaled she had only been asleep a few hours.
After what seemed, and probably was, an eternity, the brown mare pulled herself from the jaws of the alley and landed on the sidewalk beyond, finally tasting freedom. She lay there a moment, taking a deep breath and thinking. Should she go home? She believed it to be the best choice.
After rising from the wet pavement, Quick made a right turn and began to walk, finding herself beneath the benevolent overhang of her favorite coffee shop, “Joe’s Joe”. 
Quick smiled and sighed in relief, wincing as she felt a sharp pain in her ribs. She coughed, slowing down her breathing. After taking short, shallow breaths, the pain finally abated. 
She took a long look around the area; turning in a circle to get a good view. The park lay across the street, a large, dark tree in the center across from a bench. She loved that tree, something about it always made her think of home.
Home. She sighed sadly. She could never get over it, she could never adapt. She felt lost. She sighed again as she looked to her flank, gazing upon the white swallow cutie mark adorning her side. She never really understood her cutie mark; she had always just left it as being a symbol for flying. It made her sad. She had her mark, she was supposed to know what it meant, but she still felt lost. She had always hoped a cutie mark would take away her feeling of displacement, but it never did, in fact it strengthened it. It was ironic, really, having a cutie mark and not knowing what it meant for her.
She took a last nostalgic glance at the tree and shifted her gaze to the left, focusing on the large clock in the center of town. 11:25 pm. She almost jumped, stopping as her legs screamed against it. “Eleven twenty-five!?” She exclaimed in horror. “Joseph’ll beat me with a broken blender if I don’t get home!” 
She groaned, thinking that by this point it wouldn’t matter if she were any later. She took a minute to finish her examination of the surroundings. No ponies walked the street, much to her relief. Night ponies weren’t usually very friendly, or in some cases, they were too friendly. She shuddered, not wanting to think about any of that as she shuffled into the surprisingly still open coffee shop. 
The shop was empty, save for one cloaked pony at a booth. Some hollow tune played in the background, she didn’t really know nor care what it was as she sauntered to the counter. The counterman stood with his back turned, his busy hooves on an empty pot of coffee as he put it away. 
Quick’s jaw still hurt, she rolled it, trying to move the stubborn pain away. To her disappointment and irritation, it remained. She stood awkwardly for a moment, the counterman still not noticing her quiet presence.
She cleared her throat. 
The counterman turned his head, “What? Oh sorry.” He turned around fully, moving to the counter and laying his hooves on its surface. “Wait… Quick? Is that you?” 
Quicksilver nodded, her bruised face moving up and down, causing the counterman to worry, “What happened to you?”
Quick sniffed and shifted her eyes away just slightly, shuffling her hooves nervously on the tan, tile floor. “I uh… fell… off the tree in the park.” She looked back at him, hoping her lie had worked.
The counterman looked unconvinced. He simply looked at her in what seemed to be… disappointment? She felt ashamed, Joe had always been nice to her and she felt terrible lying to him. But how was she supposed to tell him that she got beat up in an alley? She didn’t want her brother to worry if he told him.
Quick nodded absentmindedly, it hurt. “Yes. I did.” She lied again.
Joe didn’t question further, he knew she wouldn’t tell him the truth. He sighed, “Do you want some coffee?” He offered with a sad smile.
Quick smiled though she felt like crying, the bruise on her cheek stretching with her grin. Joe winced, he worried about her even more. “Sure Joe, that’d be nice.” She responded with a tired voice.
Joe quickly fetched a cup of coffee, filling it with cream and some sugar before hoofing it over to the battered mare.
She took it gladly, biting it by the rim and taking it over to a windowed booth, “Thanks!” She said in a muffled voice. 
Sitting down on the worn red upholstery, Quick placed the hot coffee down, the steam beginning to tickle her nose. She almost sneezed, putting her hoof up to block it and sighing in relief. Her head tapped the window as she leaned against it, not paying attention much to the coffee. 
Her eyes absentmindedly found the tree again, to her dislike. She looked back at the coffee; it’s dark brown surface rippled and moved, enticing her. She leaned in and took a sip. It felt as if the pain just washed away as the liquid went down her throat. Joe’s coffee was the best. Award winning, in fact. 
Before she knew it the cup was empty, she gave a satisfied sigh and leaned back lazily. She closed her eyes, not really thinking about anything. It then occurred to her. Was she… stalling? 
She thought for a moment, No… I’m just relaxing…
She looked at the clock that hung above the counter. Twenty minutes had passed, it was almost midnight. Joe would REALLY have her head now…
Quick swallowed. Joseph wasn’t physical, but his words… 
Quick shuddered. I better get home. She stopped, groaning in frustration. But the rain…
She couldn’t leave yet. The rain continued to fall; she wouldn’t be caught dead in that Celestia-forsaken water. 
She panicked. What the hell am I going to do? She asked herself silently. She couldn’t tell what she feared more, the rain or her angry brother. She shivered at both.
She buried her face in her hooves as she listened to the rain patter against the road outside.
Pat, pat, pat. Pat, pat. Pat… Pat…. Pat…
Quick perked one ear, not lifting her head yet. Was it stopping? She glanced out of her hooves to the window. It was! She sighed in relief, unable to express with words how glad she was.
“Thanks Joe!” She exclaimed, grabbing her bag that was strapped to her side as she lifted herself from the table. She reached inside, taking out a few bits to hoof to him. 
Joe shook his head, smiling. “It’s alright Quick, it’s on the house.”
Quick smiled again and waved as she exited the shop in a hurry, “Thanks again!” She repeated as the light sound of a bell on the door signaled her rushed exit.
Quick made a sharp turn, wincing as her ankle attacked her nerves. “Dammit!” She cursed, lifting her leg up and shaking it. She tried to block out the pain she felt. Not just the physical. 
She limped down the street, her eyes darting warily from side to side. “Please not tonight…” She pleaded to the air.
The street was quiet and the city was dark. The polluted night sky blocked out much of the moon and the only real source of light came from the glowing orbs that lined the side of the street. She wobbled and steadied herself on one of the green lampposts, her ankle giving her more trouble.
The city was empty. The streets were silent. A shadow flicked across an alley wall.
Quick tensed immediately, feeling a familiar chill run down her spine as she sensed the movement out of the corner of her eye. “Oh shit.” She said to herself quietly, not daring to turn. 
If there was one thing that scared her more than the street at night, it was the shadows that jumped across it. One shadow in particular scared her the most. It sent a chill down her spine every time. She didn’t need to see it to know it was there.
And then it came. The slow, leisurely step of a nearing set of hooves.
Quick swallowed and began to panic, not turning her head and keeping careful to appear calm. This is why she hated coming home late.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she moved to stand independent of the lamppost. She put one hoof forward and began to trot, slowly and calmly.
She kept her steady pace, desperately resisting the urge to break into a full sprint. She hid her hurt ankle well as her breathing became slow and shallow.
Suddenly the hoofsteps stopped. Quick couldn’t express her absolute relief at that moment. She stopped moving to take a deep breath, fear washing from her body like the rain to the pavement.
Clop…
Silence.
Quick tensed again, taking a shaky breath as her eyes widened. She took another few steps forward and then stopped suddenly, much like before.
Clop…
The same silence filled the street.
Quick resumed her trot, utterly in panic. He was matching her hoofsteps. She had to get out of there, fast.
Only one more block to go. She told herself reassuringly in her mind.
She looked forward, still not daring to turn. Her eyes found the corner of the sidewalk, the road split and made a ninety-degree turn no more than 20 feet from her. She looked at it hopefully; it could very well be her saving grace. Her apartment was a straight shot from there.
Her breath became quicker as she grew near to the street corner. 
Fifteen feet.
Ten feet.
Five feet.
This was it. With a sudden burst of speed, Quick dashed around the corner, ignoring the pain in her leg as she scampered across the wet pavement in a mad dash. 
The footsteps dropped out of synch with her hooves as soon as she picked up speed. The slow steps just audible over Quick’s hurried ones. She heard them fade, but she didn’t care. As far as she was concerned she wasn’t safe until she was off the damned streets. She galloped faster.

She sighed in relief as she slammed into the door of her apartment, not even caring that the hard impact hurt her injuries. She let out a tear as she leaned against the door, laughing a little. “I’m alive!” she exclaimed joyfully.
She put her hooves to her mouth suddenly, tensing once again as she remembered where she was. Her apartment. Also known as, her brother’s home. 
She groaned, almost wishing to be back out on the street again. Almost. 
She turned regretfully to the door and reached up a shaking hoof, hesitating. Was it worth it? Maybe I should go back, sleep in an alley way or something…
It actually sounded preferable to her at that moment. Rats don’t yell at you…
“Yeah… Yeah maybe I should leave….” She told herself as she turned away.
“You’re not going anywhere, Quick.” Came a stern voice from behind her.
She flinched as her brother’s voice hit her in the back of the head. She didn’t want to turn. She didn’t want to stare into those angry, crimson eyes and say ‘I’m sorry’.
“Come inside.”
Quick let a tear out. She turned slowly, fear overcoming every part of her body. still terrified, she shuffled inside. 
The door closed softly behind her.


Quick slammed the door to her room behind her as she rushed inside, the faint light from the lamp on her desk lightly illuminating the wetness on her cheeks. 
She slid down the door, sobbing gently. Joseph was harsh. He wasn’t physical, but his anger and disappointment with her hurt more than any punch. She had to lie again.
Quick didn’t like to lie. But she had no idea of how he was going to tell him what actually happened. The fear of that overrode the fear of him being disappointed.
She pulled herself across her carpet and into bed, wrapping the covers over herself tight. 
She scratched her leg. The bandages were itchy, but she appreciated their presence. Her chest hurt as she lay on her stomach, wincing and rolling on her side to avoid the discomfort in her ribs.
Quicksilver groaned as she pulled the covers over her face. She felt absolutely terrible. Her bones ached, her head hurt, her skin itched. It was awful, but the torment inside hurt more.
She yelled into her blankets, muffling the noise. She didn’t want to sleep. Sleep meant waking up, waking up meant going to school, and going to school meant…
Quicksilver paled as she thought of it. 
It meant seeing her.
	
	

> School
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

***REALLY sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I've been really busy with school lately as well as some other things, never really had a good chance to just sit down and write. So, with finals now being over, I give to you Chapter 3***    

Falling. 
She didn’t know where she was, or what was happening. She only knew that she was falling.
Or was it… drifting?
No it couldn’t be. You don’t drift through air like this… The brown mare thought as she glided through the darkness around her.
Tinted green, like a dirty stream.
She rolled over slowly, surprised. She definitely wasn’t falling.
“Where am I…?” She questioned herself and the shifting green around her. The dark background seemed almost alive, rippling in places and swirling back and forth, like a pool full of liquid.
Liquid. Water.
She put her hooves to her throat suddenly as she tried to take a breath. 
She couldn’t breath. No air. Only water.
She sputtered, kicking her hooves in the encroaching darkness as she struggled for air, sucking in the vile liquid in its place. She coughed, trying to expunge the blackness from her lungs. 
She watched in horror as bubbles came from her mouth and lifted through the water, moving past her face and moving… down?
She panicked, not knowing which way was up and which way was down. She pulled herself through the watery darkness, following their trail in the hope of reaching the surface. She moved faster, her lungs feeling as if they were shrinking. She saw a shape in the space above her; she squinted, her limbs beginning to feel heavy. She reached for it, trying to get a better glimpse.
‘I-is that…?’
With a cough and a sputter she finally received the air she was so desperate for, tossing and flailing about as she drowned in her blankets.
“AH!” She cried out in terror and confusion, the sea of green wrapping around her.
Quicksilver calmed, looking up at her bedroom ceiling as she wiped the sweat from her forehead and breathed hard. She looked left to her ringing alarm clock, 7 AM. 
Quicksilver sighed and groaned, rolling over lethargically as she brought her hoof down on the annoying piece of plastic that was screaming for her to get up. “Dammit…” She said under her breath as she reluctantly lifted herself from the dark green sheets, yawing and doing a quick stretch with her front legs. 
Quick both loved school and hated it with a passion. Learning was something she loved. The social aspect of school, however, was a different story entirely. She shuddered to think about it as a vision of a red pony flashed before her eyes, almost making her jump as she saw the mental picture. 
She shook her head, swinging the image out of her mind as she tried to think of the good side of school again. “Alright… so there’s a history test today.”
Quicksilver jumped out of bed and trotted over to her nightstand, eyeing a stack of papers and looking them over with a smile, “Think I studied enough for that one…” She put the papers into a small cyan backpack and zipped it shut. “Can’t forget the homework either.”
After strapping the little pack firmly to her back, Quick made her way across her small, cozy room to the door. She stopped at the window, peering out into the city.
Crowds of ponies swarmed the busy sidewalks as cars passed them by, everypony was in a mad rush to reach their destination, bumping into each other and filling the streets with the sound of their hooves. How she hated rushing, Quick loved calm, the opposite of what lie in view.
“It’s like everypony’s getting bit in the ass by a swarm of hornets…” She noted sadly to herself with a tinge of frustration, thinking back on the farm. She even missed the swarms of stinging insects on the hot afternoons back home. She watched as her mind placed little buzzing black dots amongst the ponies, resembling the angry creatures she thought of, she almost smiled. Almost.
She growled and shut the blinds, closing off her little window to hell. “Dammit.” She muttered to herself quietly again, staring at the slightly peeling green paint of her small bedroom. Her eyes ran along the floral patterns across its surface, distracting her from the outside world that she so desperately tried to shut out. Her short-lived bliss was cut short by the loud, sharp wakeup call of her older brother from the next room.
“Hey Quick! Breakfast!”
Quick sighed and flicked an ear in irritation, “I’m coming!” She shouted sharply in return, surprised at her own intensity. “S-sorry!” she followed up quickly to her outburst.
“Just hurry up! It’ll get cold.”
She turned from the strangely attractive wall and shifted her pack a little, feeling it’s light weight sit against her back comfortably. She perked an ear in alert, tilting her head a bit as she noted it’s lightness, “A little too light…”
Quick’s bright, violet eyes widened as she realized her mistake, running over to the corner of her bed. Lying down her pack, she reached around in the covers. She smiled as she felt the familiar, short fur of the desired object. Pulling out her teddy bear, she gave it a smile before placing it delicately in the front pouch of her backpack. Quick had always been picked on for carrying around a teddy bear, but she didn’t care, she needed her bear. 
“Stay safe, Teddy.” She said as she put it away lovingly, laughing a bit at her unoriginal name. She was eight; naming a teddy bear “Teddy” just seemed right. 
Quick hoisted her pack firmly onto her back and trotted out toward the kitchen. She felt a little better knowing that her special friend always had her back, or was on her back in this case.
Quick stood at the edge of the kitchen door, taking a deep inhale through her nose. Pancakes.
And there it was, that all-too-familiar sense of nostalgia. It was a common feeling, a feeling she experienced just as much as she felt anger or sadness, which was too much for her liking.
She stepped into view, “That better be dad’s recipe.” She stated to her brother who washed a bowel in the kitchen sink, giving a lighthearted smile.
Joseph smiled back, nodding, “Why would it be anything different?”
Quick sat at the table and pulled her seat in, looking at her meal and feeling her stomach gnaw at itself. “Guess dad lives on in his pancakes.” She said as she took a bite, wincing, “Sorry for eating you, dad.”
Joseph chuckled a little and dried the black mixing bowel, setting it aside as he wiped his hands on a dishcloth. “I really doubt that dad’s inside the pancakes…” he responded as he sat next to her, having already eaten he had no plate in front of him. “Now Quick…”
Quicksilver perked a single brown ear, not turning to look at him as she took another slow bite.
“We never really got to talk last night. You kinda just ran off after I yelled a few things.”
Quick remained silent, tensing noticeably. Joseph saw her unease.
“So I want to know, specifically, what you were doing last night. You said you had an accident but… that doesn’t really tell me anything.”
Quick grew more uneasy and choked a little on a piece of food, hitting her chest a couple times and coughing.
“You okay?” Her brother asked with concern.
She nodded, still coughing. “I’m okay.”
“So…?” Her brother awaited her answer eagerly, staring her down with his bright, crimson eyes. Quick shuddered at their gaze, they were beautiful eyes, they gave a strange sense of comfort, but they somehow felt… unnatural, always making her shiver. She felt them bore into the side of her head, feeling her skin prickle as his gaze seemed to burn it.
Quick looked up a bit and opened her mouth to speak, stopping abruptly as she saw the clock, her jaw dropping like a bag of rocks. “OH SHIT!”
Joseph winced at her loud outburst, “shhhh! You’ll wake the neighbors!”
Quick paid him no mind as she took a few more hurried bites of food and scrambled from her seat, almost falling as she skidded across the tile kitchen floor to the front door of their apartment. She almost slammed into the door as she fumbled for the knob, opening the door wide and dashing outside as she gave her hurried farewell, “Gottagothanksforbreakfastloveyoubye!”
Quick ran like mad, ironically, she was just as rushed as the ponies she was noting with disdain. She bumped into somepony, giving a slight apology but not slowing as she felt the hornets push her on her way.
Quick breathed hard, still sprinting down the city streets. She passed the coffee shop and cut across the street through the park, running below the gnarled branches of the park’s tree. Rounding a bend, she picked up her speed.
The school was in sight, it’s large, monochromatic walls looming over the flat surrounding area. She rushed through the gates, hardly noticing the dark-coated pony that stood there, almost blending in with the black fencing. “Quick?” the figure said in surprise.
Quick skidded to a stop, her momentum carrying her a few feet as she slid along the pavement, tipping forward slightly.      She regained her bearings and turned to face the figure. 
The figure was of an average height, sporting a short, spiking white mane with a tinge of blue-gray. Her coat was a deep, night sky blue, almost appearing black as it caught the light. Her defining feature was the two sets bright, neon green stripes on either of her cheeks, two stripes for each cheek, running from her jaw line to the base of her soft, bluish-gray eyes.  “What’s the rush?” the figure said additionally, turning to reveal the group of white stars that stood as her cutie mark.
Quick looked, her face one of panic, “We’re gonna be late! What are you standing out here for, Midnight!?”
“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there Quick, it’s only 7:45. We got 15 minutes.”
“H-huh?” Quick’s worried expression turned to one of confusion. 
Quick put her hoof to her face in agitation as she finally realized the clock back at the apartment was slow. “Celestia dammit…” she muttered to herself as she took a deep breath, calming and taking her hoof away from her face.
Midnight trotted up to her a bit and leaned close, “Slow clock?”
Quick nodded and groaned in agitation, “Dammit Joseph…. Fix that clock already…”
Midnight giggled a bit, “You should just get a watch or something, I mean you are a runner, having a watch would be good for a lot of things.”
“Meh.” She simply said in response, looking at the grass absent-mindedly. “I’m lazy and broke.”
“Top students aren’t supposed to be lazy,” Midnight scolded jokingly. “Get your ass in gear!”
“I’ll think about it.” Quick responded, shifting her eyes at her friend and then back towards another random object. “Happy?”
Midnight shrugged, flicking her long tail to fan herself. “Damn… it’s hot.”
“That’s just cause you have that dark coat, if it wasn’t black it wouldn’t absorb as much-“
Midnight interrupted her, flicking her tail in Quick’s face and smiling, “Don’t pull that science stuff on me, Quick.”
Quick spit out a hair, “Ugh. Flick that somewhere else!”
“Okay.” Midnight flicked her tail onto Quick’s head instead.
Quick brushed off Midnight’s tail in agitation, “Dammit that’s not what I meant!”
Midnight chuckled, “You should be more specific.”
Quick growled a little.
“Whoa whoa, don’t get all feral on me, I’m just joking around.” Midnight said in defense, pulling her tail away. 
Quicksilver took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders, feeling her pack slide around. “Yeah, sorry.” She gave a smile.
“That’s better, now what do you-“ Midnight cut off as a pony bumped into her forcefully as he walked, obviously on purpose.
“Oops, sorry there Mutt.” The stallion said as he trotted by, chuckling maliciously.
Midnight’s ears drooped and she looked down sadly, her chipper mood fading, “Never mind….” She said quietly. 
Quick glared at the stallion, he glared back.
Looking to her friend, Quick tried to comfort her, “It’s okay Midnight, he’s just an asshole. Just cause you’re part zebra doesn’t mean you deserve that.” Quick halted for a moment, “Wait… that came out wrong.”
Midnight gave her a weird look.
“I meant… that… just cause…” Quick sat down on the ground, giving up and sitting in her failure. “I’ll shut up now…”
Midnight sighed, “I know that’s not what you meant, Quick. Just be careful in what you say next time.”
“Okay… sorry…” Quick rubbed her neck nervously, clearing her throat. Her eyes drifted back to the patchy, brownish grass that lay beside her. 
“Quick?”
“Huh?” Quick snapped back to reality, shaking her head a bit. “Sorry guess I’m just a little tired…”
“Ah.” Midnight said in a quick response, fanning herself again with her tail long, silvery tail, almost seaming to gleam in the sunlight. “Can we go somewhere less… hot?” 
Quick sighed, twitching an ear sharply. She didn’t share Midnight’s dilemma, in fact she liked the sun. “I guess…” She replied reluctantly.
Midnight looked at her watch again, angling it away from the sun’s glare to read the numbers. “Looks like we only got four minutes anyways. Might as well head to class.” 
Quick winced slightly as Midnight angled the watch to reflect the sun into her eyes, turning away a bit, “ahg! Dammit Midnight that’s annoying!”
Midnight giggled and put her hoof down, stopping and saying with exaggerated innocence, “I’m sorry.”
Quick narrowed her eyes as Midnight giggled again.
Midnight looked away slightly and cleared her throat in response, “Well then… shall we?”
The brown mare lifted herself from the ground and stood beside her with a bored expression, “Yeah, sure.”
They began to trot toward the open doors of the school at a relaxed pace, passing students as well as watching others rush by.
“So Quick…” Midnight began with a smile, looking to her friend, “Isn’t it your birthday soon?”
Quick had almost forgotten, she was turning 14 in just… was it three days? Four?
“This Friday right?”
It was Tuesday. Quick scratched her head, “Yeah, guess I forgot.”
“Forgot your birthday?” Midnight said with a snicker.
Quick pushed her friend playfully, “At least I don’t forget my backpack almost every day.” Quick looked to Midnight’s bare back, where a backpack should be.
“Oh crap… I thought I was forgetting something…” Midnight’s ears drooped. “Guess my shoulders felt light for a reason.” She shrugged it off. “Oh well.”
“Oh well?” Quick began with a raised eyebrow, “you won’t be saying ‘oh well’ when Miss Magistra beats your flank with a barbed ruler.”
Midnight shuddered at the actual possibility.
The inside of the school wasn’t much cooler, Quick noted as they passed through the doors and felt a light gust of lukewarm wind, but then again the temperature couldn’t be much above room temperature outside anyways. Midnight was noticeably relieved to be out of the sun, she took a deep breath and held it, “I hate the smell of school.” She said as she let out the air sharply. “Smells like rotting books, angst, and sweat.” She shivered in disgust.
“I like the smell of books…” Quick said under her breath.
“We know Quick…”
Quick had always been sort of a nerd. She was one of the few ponies in their grade that actually cared about grades and learning. 
“So I had this idea…” Quick began, looking to the side nervously and shuffling her hoof.
“Yeah?” Midnight perked her ear in attention.
“What if… I changed my name to Quinn?”
“What?” Midnight said with a raised eyebrow.
“What if I changed my name, legally, to Quinn.” She repeated.
“No I heard you” Midnight said. “I just don’t understand you. Why?”
“Well I just figured I might get a little less shit from ponies if I had a less… ‘fancy’ name.” Quick responded nervously.
“Well Quick I think that-“ Midnight began, rubbing the back of her head.
Quick bolted suddenly, disappearing behind a corner in a blur.
“Huh?” Midnight’s confusion was cut short by the two heavy footsteps behind her, followed by a brief silence. The increasingly terrified mare tensed up, feeling the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
“Good morning, Mutt.” Came the harsh voice of a mare from behind her.
Midnight closed her eyes in fear, chills running down her spine. She whimpered quietly.
Midnight heard a laugh and then hoofsteps heading away from her, she relaxed a bit, cautiously opening one eye. Her vision was greeted by a red hoof flying at her face. She barely had time to react as impacted, the force of the punch knocking her back into the lockers with a metallic clang. Midnight groaned in pain, clutching her throbbing face gingerly. A shadow fell over her and she tensed up again, wanting to close her eyes in fear, however she found herself looking up at the looming figure before her.