Scribbles
Scribbles
Without a word, the cerise mare floated over to the precipice, carried by her birth right gift, staring at her friend. She seemed so happy, even though her vision was blurred by the salty solution leaking out from her teal eyes, trailing down her cheeks and eventually descending through the air, narrowly missing her friend.
In an instant, the famed pony, known throughout the world for her intellect dropped down to the wooden ledge that peered over the bustling city of blinding lights. Only with her magic was she able to open the window of her hotel bedroom, but this was the only way she could take one last look at the world.
Despite the unbelievable distance between her and her friend, Elise still managed to make out the general, stunning frame of her foalhood friend as she flirted with that stallion. Starlight chatted with him so carelessly; no doubt oblivious to the effect she was having on her best friend. Elise couldn’t say anything about this though, because it would kill her inside to ruin her lifelong companion’s dreams. But this was killing her too.
Placing one hoof further ahead of the other three, she pushed herself through the contrarily open window, and balanced herself carefully on the stone edge that threatened her, provoking her innate fear of heights. If only her friend could see her, then maybe things would turn out differently, but there wasn’t any time, and her mind was made up. There was nothing more to say about this.
Elise chuckled gently at the thought of Fetlock’s face with his astonishingly white mane covering parts of it. For twelve years, she watched him from afar and noted how he was always the centre of ridicule, no matter where he was. It was almost pitiful, but he was always the pony she felt she could connect with, even though she never tried. Elise pretended to be very content with her life, but on the inside, she was as hollow as the soul of an echo.
The only thing she could do in life was echo what others told her, but Elise couldn’t keep living like that. She was nothing more than a wall that threw back what others offered her, but she still shielded what was hers. For years, she had only one friend, and she still kept countless secrets from Starlight, including the truth about her calling in life. It didn’t exist.
One last tear emerged from the corner of her eye, and as she felt it slide down her features and skip over her two crimson lips, she tasted it, and felt it kiss her as the single droplet plunged down ahead of her, beckoning for her to follow. Grinning and beaming like she did the first time she saw his face, she took a deep breath through her nostrils, and prepared herself for her solac-
Furious with the wasting time, the orange maned Pegasus scrunched up the parchment she wrote on and angrily tossed it towards the bin, only to have it bounce off of the edge and roll around on the floor. Moaning and grunting, the seasoned athlete ran her hooves through her mane with intense vigour, and frustration. She was hoping to write something interesting, or something so gripping that anypony who read it would be enthralled to the point of obsession. Instead, she just wrote a few paragraphs of mushy garbage that now lay no more than a few inches from the garbage.
She could never really excel at anything, and always lived in the shadows of those close to her. She trained for years to be the best flier Equestria’s ever seen, only to be outshone by her sister, the mare everypony knew. She tried to do well in school, but couldn’t even compete with a mare that had the eyes of an idiot and the coordination of a cyclopic pony. It sounded mean in her head as she thought it, but very, very often, the truth is like that. At least that’s what her brother keeps telling her.
Composing herself and calming her mind, she gathered her thoughts and effectively deleted any traces of the rubbish she was writing, starting to visualise a new story taking place in front of her mind’s eye. There wasn’t anything good that she could see for a while, and for some reason, one pony was always there. She tried to push him out, but he refused to leave and taunted her as she buckled under the pressure and escaped to reality.
With her teeth gritted, she hissed into the pervading air and listened as it rang in her ears, fading into a low and gentle hum. Once she thought she was ready, she closed her eyes again and hoped to return to the world of inspiration, only to have her plans thwarted by the stallion that not only occupied her every thought, but also snuck his way into her previous literary work.
She knew what was happening and she understood it all, but she still despised the feelings that she felt. Just because it’s always there, it doesn’t mean that she needs to be tolerant or accepting of it. She wished with every ounce of energy in her athletic build for it to go away, and to be left alone, but her brain had other plans, and played the same images on a loop, flaunting the snow-maned Pegasus.
She couldn’t help believing, that if she hadn’t been so nosy, and that if she hadn’t been such a mischievous filly, then everything would be different today. If only she hadn’t snuck around the house so much when she was younger, and if only she didn’t go through her father’s documents, then she wouldn’t have learnt such a dark truth about her brother, and her vice wouldn’t exist. The only reason her vice even came into being was because of how it was frowned upon.
Of a sudden, an idea popped into her head, and she began to form the beginnings -- or rather, the end -- of what could be an immaculate tale of fiction. It may not be the sort of thing that everypony would want to read, but she was dead set on writing it and she felt that this would definitely be something that she could be at least the slightest bit proud of. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and it doesn’t have to be the best thing anypony has ever written, but as long as she could relate to it, then it was fine.
Piercing winds and painful precipitation struck her coat hard and left their impressions on the flesh of her body. The parts they touched would sting and itch momentarily, but she was on her way to do something so important, that this didn’t matter at all. She would put her body through any trials she needed to, as long as she could get to where she was headed, and as long as she could do what she wanted to.
A thin, vaporous fog embraced her, and provided the slightest bit of insulation for her, despite being as useful as a jar of sand in the desert. The almost torrential rainfall and the icy razors flying through the air forced her to falter, but her resolve stayed strong, and her eyes were locked forward. One hoof at a time, she trotted onwards, unaware that her limbs were shaking under the unbearable pressure. The mental pressure.
Shivers shot down her spine as she arched her back as a natural response, and spied her destination off in the distance. Getting closer and closer to the large double doors, she realised that her breath was jagged, and her pace was frantic. If anypony could be completely calm in a situation like this, then they are truly amazing, and they are worthy of idolising praise.
She wasn’t one of them, but that didn’t matter to her, and there was far too much going on in her mind for her to waste her time thinking about things like that. She pulled up to the glass doors that marked the entrance of the necessary yet monotonous edifice that housed the pony she needed to so desperately see. She avoided visiting for so long, but now time was running out, and she had to act fast.
Instantly, her wings shot out and flapped once as she held one of her forehooves up, pushing open the doors as her body was propelled through the air, letting her enter the boring hospital. The workers behind the counter, the nurses that ran frantically across the tiled, ceramic floor, and the few ponies that sat in the waiting area all turned their attention to the stunning mare, who’s beauty entranced all those around her, and left their mouths gaping in awe as she hovered over to the stairs, her obsidian mane flowing behind her, reaching out to her majestic tail.
A Pegasus of unmatched elegance darted through the various wings of the hospital, and eventually found the room, she was looking for. With a beaming grin plastered on her face, she exploded through the door, only to have her delight swoop down into the depths of Tartarus. Before her, she saw a lavender blue stallion lying motionless under the sterile and uncomfortable covers.
To her, it was obvious, and she knew what it all meant. It meant that it was too late, and that he had slipped into an almost inescapable world of nothingness. Now, she had no way to tell her beloved brother that the bond they shared only went as deep as their name, and that nothing was forbidden. There were studies that suggested comatose ponies could still hear and feel the world around them, and that was enough. Running a hoof through his silver mane, she leaned closer and let her eyes naturally close and their faces came closer, and were joined at their li-
Face entirely flushed and her insides throbbing, the embarrassed and ashamed mare once again scrunched up the literary piece that others would have regarded as brilliant and genius, but she only saw as pathetic and immoral. The heat emanating from her features could have boiled a cup of water and her vision was blurred by the thoughts clouding her mind. Lifting the small ball above her head with a hoof, she tossed it with all her might and again aimed for the bin. This time, she was closer, but what she saw as unworthy was unwilling to join the rubbish, and fell by its predecessor.
She was confused and shocked that she ever thought it would be a good idea to write that as any part of a story, and no matter what else she wrote to go with it, it would still be horrendous. It hadn’t occurred to her that she was only using her own opinions and that she hadn’t even bothered to tell anyone about this side of her yet, but she didn’t think any of her friends would be willing to accept that she was a bit of an egg-head -- especially after all the work she put into her athletic career.
The speedy mare didn’t understand why she wanted to do this for the rest of her life, but it just felt right, and it was something that nopony else was interested in. Spitfire couldn’t care less about literature, Derpy was far too busy taking care of Dinky, and if Fetlock didn’t even understand the fundamentals of Equestria’s history, then he definitely wouldn’t be bothered with something as creative as writing. To her though, it was the only thing that could help her relax, and from time to time, it would teach her a little about herself -- much like it did today.
Eyes closed and hooves at the sides of her temple, she massaged her head and tried to expel any thoughts that could be deemed sinful or immoral. She tried her best to be a good pony, but there were just some things that she couldn’t help, and they were often the things that she hated the most. The more she saw the gentle green eyes of the Pegasus she adored, and the more she remembered the sound of his tranquil yet misunderstood voice, she would grit her teeth and hate herself for what she felt.
She couldn’t take it anymore, and when she stomped her hoof down, not only did she make a low degree dent in the hardwood floor of her Ponyville home, but she also sent the ink bottle on her desk toppling, and effected the jet-black cascade descending down to the ground. As her hind legs were stained by the oily liquid, she jumped out of her seat and yelled a curse that reverberated off of the plainly decorated walls and returned to her.
Running over to the kitchen and flying back with a tea towel, she tried her best to clean the desk that she worked on. Slowly, she made it worse and worse and eventually, she just gave up and decided she’d clean it some other time. She could ask for her brother to come and help her. He was always a keen chemist, and this way she could spend a little bit of time with her.
Throwing herself onto the couch, she saw her life before her eyes and recognised the banality of it all. Beside her on the coffee table, there was a blunt quill, and half a bottle of ink standing on the corner of a piece of parchment. When she saw these items, she sighed, persuading herself to try one last time.
Shrouded in the pre-evening shadow of the single apple tree that stood high up on a hill in Ponyville Park, Fetlock gazed off into the distance, and watched as the pony in his eyes chatted with another stallion. They sat together under the gazebo and she laughed her delightful laugh as the Earth pony grinned at her. He could see that they were both perfectly happy, and he didn’t want to come between them, so he didn’t.
For years, she’s been the apple of his eye and for those same years, he’s been denying himself the happiness he would no doubt experience should he spend the rest of his life with her. Every time he would even come close to deciding to talk to her, somepony else would step in, and convince him that he should back off. They never had to say anything to him, and he always came to the conclusions himself.
He could hear the faintest traces of her harmonious giggles, but even the gentle breeze was enough to drown most of it out. As he watched her from afar, he gritted his teeth at the annoying brown stallion that sat with her, and effectively walled her off from him. Fetlock shot one of his wings to the side, and shook the apple tree gently, encouraging one of the fruits to descend and land on the tip of his outstretched appendage.
Before he could sink his teeth into it however, his appetite disappeared all of a sudden, and the crimson skin of the delicacy distorted the reality of who he was. Not wanting to see himself in such a state, he quickly yet gently ripped off a single strip of the organic material, dangling it before his eyes as he tossed the fruit itself away and down the hill, reminiscing about what his mentor once said to him.
"There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it."
Sighing, he let his gaze rise from the sight of his lifelong case, and stared almost lifelessly at the setting sun, and waited for the approaching night. In the dark, nopony would be able to see him, and nopony would be able to see his embarrassingly blank flank. That’s why he sat in the shadows as he watched an immoral stallion flirt with a mare that he’s had his eyes on for years.
Fragile rays of glowing orange and flaming apricot reached from one side of the horizon to the other, encompassing half the world in its grasp. As the sun descended further below the imaginary border between Earth and Heaven, the sanctuary he’d been hiding in stretched out and headed towards a singularity, as if its arms were raised in prayer. His eyes burned when he stared at the astonishing celestial charge that sank behind Gaia, and made way for her younger sister. A silvery, lunar crescent hung low in the sky as it offered a little bit of light as the hours grew darker. Closing his eyes, he felt the gentle breeze blow through his mane and fill his lungs as he thought about the orange farmer-mare, and as he imagined how angry the librarian would-
Moans and groans escaped from between her lips and floated through the air as they made their way towards her prostrated ears. Stopping the quill she held in her teeth before the finishing words of the sentence came into being, she thought about everything she had written today, and realised that everything she created was no better that pieces of garbage.
Almost regretfully, she propped the quill inside the half empty bottle of ink and slowly read over the cursive letters that she printed onto the parchment. As her eyes skimmed over the five to six hundred words, the embarrassment grew to an immeasurable and unbearable size, overwhelming and overpowering her as she begrudgingly persuaded herself to continue reading. She had to admit that her teachers were right, and that she was decent at creating stories, but it was still blush-inducing. She couldn’t believe that she wrote this.
She couldn’t believe that once again, against her will and completely unbeknownst to her until now, she wrote him into one of her pathetic, amateurish stories. It was obvious that he was definitely taking up the majority of her thoughts, and that sooner or later; her feelings would come to fruition. Whether or not they would be accepted by everypony is a completely different matter, but she still wanted to keep everything a secret, and prevent anypony else from finding out.
There are plenty of other ponies in the world, and if they fail to impress then there are Griffons, and there are Zebras. Nopony ever said that you only fall in love once, and if she could just find somepony else, then it would all be better. If she could fall in love with another pony, then that means she never really loved him, and that her feelings were all a farce. She realised that it was a difficult idea to wrap one’s head around, but it was something she hoped for dearly, because she didn’t want to live her life alone, and she didn’t want to admit everything to him.
Sighing again, she scrunched up the parchment that lay on the coffee table before her and tossed it behind her, not paying attention to where it went, only aware that it was in roughly the right direction. Of all three times that this ritual was repeated today, this was the only time that it was a success, and that what she deemed to be garbage wasn’t ashamed of that verdict, and rather, embraced it. Without even touching the thin, metal rim, the balled-up paper swished into the rubbish bin in the darkest corner of the living room, hidden completely from the sunlight.
Gazing out of her window, she saw the sight of a bumblebee frantically trying to break through the glass and reach the attractive potted flower that she had placed on the windowsill. Chuckling, she trotted over and lifted the glass pane, allowing for the insect to reach his destination. Of a sudden, realisation set in and she realised that she needed to live life like that bee. Although she didn’t have a destination in mind yet, she had a vague idea of where she wanted to go, and that was enough. Fetlock would always be her little brother, and he would always be the apple of her eye, even if it was all a despicable sin. Blaze would still be phased by everything, but maybe, she would be able to rise above it all. If no pony else could forgive her for how she feels, then they are nothing more than a bunch of weaklings. The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.