When I was young, I wanted to be a superhero. I knew it was impossible, even back then, but the thought of being able to help people and be a hero was always so… so… well, I don't know how to explain it. I remember when I used to search for people to help and performed minute deeds for people then acted like I’d ‘saved the world’ each time.
I miss those days. It was so easy back then.
Time brought truth to my ignorant dream, but I still never let it go. I was always the kid who tried to ‘stick up’ for all those who couldn't do it themselves. I made a lot of friends that way, but, also, a lot of enemies. I wasn't the smartest kid, nor was I the dumbest. In modesty, it was slightly above average in Math and Science, but failed English, History and all of those other stupid classes. I didn't hate school, but I didn't like it either. Indifferent, to put lightly.
The next part of my story is what you expect for a kid with my dream: I joined the Marines. My parents were against the idea (my mom more so than my father), but my grandfather always backed me up, being a Vietnam Vet himself. “Teaches you discipline and values that’ll help you through life,” he’d always say. It was true, I did learn a lot, but… I also lost a lot. They say they prepare you in boot camp; that they’ll get you ready for anything war can put you through.
They lied.
I was a Marine. Or, I became a Marine. I wanted to be the best, so I joined the best. During training: they broke me down, then built me back up in some of the worst years of my life. I wanted to quit. So many times I wanted to quit. But that would be taking the easy way out. A hero never quits. When it was all over, and I was sent on my first deployment, I thought that the worst was over—that serving would be the easy part. Fight for your country; defend the weak!
I was wrong.
I still have nightmares about my first deployment. Flashbacks, waking up in the middle of the night in cold sweats and echoes of my sins still haunt me day and night. "Old ghosts," as they say, "never go away." You don't realize how much you lose when you enlist. You lose your veil of ignorance which protects you from the daily horrors that we never notice. I can't drive in fear of hitting an IED. I flash into a panic every time I hear thunder or lighting. Storms are the worst for me, but even mundane things like a car backfiring bring me back to those five years. It does get better, that much is true, but never goes away. Like a scar. Yes, they heal, but they're always begging to be torn back open.
I have fought the devil and won... but he always came back, and I was sent to fight him all over again.
The cycle never stopped.
For five years, I fought as a Marine, and I would’ve fought longer if I hadn't been medically discharged. To be honest, I was hoping that I’d die in combat and join my fallen brothers. This never happened, as fate held other plans. I was struck by shrapnel from an IED while on routine patrol. My buddy had been on patrol with me when it happened—Zack, was his name—but he wasn't as lucky as me. The metal shards severed his brain stem and killed him instantly. Me… I got metal shards, nails, and glass embedded in my back, my body armor useless as I stopped almost nothing. I was lucky to have survive, doctors said, as it was a miracle that I didn't bleed out.
I honestly didn't share their enthusiasm. Still don't.
That day, in that moment, I lost what I had dedicated my entire life to and, more importantly, I had lost a friend. I’d lost people before, some even more violently and personal than Zack, but he affected me differently. According to the report: he had shielded me from the majority of the blast. I’ll never know if he did it on purpose or it was just a coincidence, but I never got over the feeling that he died protecting me. He died for me. Wasn't I the one fighting so others didn't have to die? As a marine, you don't fight for yourself—you fight by the brother by your side, as he is the one fighting for you. It made us strong. It made us tough. It was what made is marines—no training can compete with that. I guess that was the day he fulfilled his number one duty: fighting for his brother. I guess I wasn't fighting as hard. It is a strong, resilient guilt, one that has haunted me since discharge. I still have his face burned into my memory… before and after the blast.
Life after recovery and return to society has been almost just as difficult as combat. More so, in some ways. People think that you can just come back, flip a switch, then go from a Marine to a normal ‘citizen’ again. In truth, the saying doesn't lie: “Once a marine, always a marine.” I tried to return, I really did, but it just didn't work out. I currently live in a decent apartment in the ‘lovely’ city of Boston—my hometown. It was nothing special, mind you, as I bought with my pay I had saved up during service. I like the area, as it allows for privacy and the people who are around are nice, don't get me wrong, but I don't exactly get along with people. Trust is a hard thing for me to give so, as you can imagine, my dating life has been… nonexistent. I live alone and I work alone doing security for a local nightclub.
But, I think I've talked about myself enough. This story, believe it or not, isn't about me. No, this story is about the last thing you would expect: a pony, and how she changed my life.
“I’m sorry, kid, but there is no way you’re over 21.”
It was another Saturday, and with it brought the usual horde of kids who tried, in vain, to make it into the club. I wasn’t lenient with underage drinking. Thankfully, it was something I was glad both me and my boss agreed with.
“What the hell, man! See the birth date on the I.D?” the scruffy teen said as he pointed to the mentioned item. “It says I’m 21, so you have to let me in!”
I sighed, then shake my head. “Look, kid, I don’t care what the I.D says; if I think you’re too young, then you ain’t getting in, understand? This is a private establishment, not a community college.”
The kid looked like he’s going to reply, but only let out a loud huff and stomped away. I shook my head at the display and let out a soft chuckle. “Will they ever learn?” I mumble to myself, then return my attention to my post.
Other than this kid, and a few prior, the night had been pretty uneventful, up to now. The club received a steady stream of legal patrons, while none of them had, as of yet, warranted a forceful removal. I liked days like these, as they didn’t require me throw some drunken jackass out into the nearest snowdrift. As fun as it may sound, it gets old really fast.
It was the middle of winter and the city of Boston. The temperature was low and dropped even lower every time the wind hit the frigid ocean, while piles of snow lined the streets and alleys where the herd of plow trucks couldn’t reach. It was uncomfortable, for most, but, if you grew up here, you learned to live with it. A few extra layers was always all I needed when the temperature dropped to god-awful level. That was the one thing that the deserts I served in couldn't take that out of me. Us Bostonians are a stubborn bunch.
The door to the club swung open and I turned to see my boss poke his ginger head out the small opening. “Yo, Alex!” he screamed in my direction, even though I was close enough to hear him whisper. “I got some asshat in here I need you to toss—fuckin’ idiot is making a fool of himself and scaring off the other patrons.”
I gave him a curt nod, then followed him inside. When I walked through the front door, I was instantly assaulted by a practical wave of sound. Wubs, as the house DJ had explained. The club thumped with a practical heartbeat, the patrons inside grinning and dancing in almost the same rhythm. The club itself wasn’t large, being basically an oversize bar with a DJ booth, but it still managed to draw a handsome crowd.
“The fuckin’ pissa’s over 'ere,” my boss said, then points towards the direction of the offender.
I looked in the direction he was pointing, and soon spotted the offender he was referring too. The ‘asshat’ was currently stumbling around the side of the dance floor near the booths, talking to some females who, judging by their reactions, wanted him gone just as much as my boss.
I turned to my redheaded employer. “I got him,” I said plainly.
He nodded in response. “See to it you do—I don’t want that rat muckin’ up me business.”
“Any of you ladies want to… to get with a real man?” the drunk fool said, using almost all of his remaining cognitive ability to remain upright.
The group of three females in the booth rolled their eyes. “As if, you freak,” replied one from the group.
He looked like he was about to reply, but it was at this time I made my presence known. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me,” I say in a calm voice, hoping that I can get him to leave without violence. I always preferred when it didn't have to turn violent.
The guy turns to me. “Hey… leave me alone to my fun, will you?”
I shake my head. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, then lets out a slurred chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere, thank you very much!”
I sigh. “Very well,” I say, then reach over and grab the fool by the back of his jacket and begin to lead him away.
“Hey!” he screamed when his brain registered that he’s being dragged, then whips his body around and breaks free from my grasp. “I thought I told you that I wasn’t going anywhere!”
I don’t respond and go to grab him again, but he pushes my arm away and stumbles back. “Hey, don’t touch me!” he cried out, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife. He flicked open the moderately sized blade and pointed it at me. Switchblade. Guy's lucky he didn't cut his junk off—never trust a knife without a lock. “I’m warning you!”
The patrons who had been watching the display either scream or freak out when they notice the knife. I don’t. I knew better. In his state, he was more likely to hurt himself than anyone else. “Sir, put down the knife,” I say calmly, not wanting to provoke him.
“Don’t call me ‘sir’, you fucking prick!” he said, then lunged forward, his knife pointed directly at my chest.
It was easy to simply grab his wrist. No need for anything fancy. I lift his hand above his head at an awkward angle and sent my free hand into his elbow. It connected with an audible ‘crack!’, followed by a scream of pain as the knife clattered to the floor. Maybe it was a bit much, but I didn't want to risk anything. The place was too crowded to take chances.
“You broke my fuckin’ elbow, you asshole!” he screamed as he fell to the ground, clutching his now broken appendage.
To be honest, I was impressed that he could still speak. Must've been drunker then I thought. I waste no time and picked up the knife from the floor. I collapse it and put it in my back pocket. Still don't trust lock-less blades. I then pick up the wounded idiot by his shoulders and dragged him outside. I can hear cheers of applause as I drag him outside, along with some very Boston words for how much of an idiot this guy was. They were always very creative. I ignore them, though. I have a job to do. Once out the door, I drag screaming man across the street and to the neighboring sidewalk before dropping him on the ground.
“Stay,” I commanded in a tone that demanded no response. He continued to scream, but didn’t make any attempts to go move.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone and called the police, telling them to pick up the idiot that tried to stab me. I waited next to him until they got here, made my statement, gave them his knife, then watched as they drove away with him in the back. You'd think there'd be more to the story about breaking a man's elbow, but there really wasn't. The police knew me. Not as a friend, but about my service. They never asked questions beyond what was standard. Kept everything formal. I helped them fill their drunk tank, after all. Besides that, I'd get some salutes every once in a while, or just a thank you. I'd smile and thank them for keeping the homefront safe. They didn't know war, but they knew that there was more evil in the world then most civi's. I respected them for that, and they respected me.
Once everything was taken care of, I walked back into the club to be greeted by my boss outside.
“Man, I gotta thank you for this one,” he said with an appreciative smile. “Didn’t know he was hiding a knife, so I’m sure glad I had you deal with ‘em.” He chuckled. "Might have to start having you pat people down."
It wasn't a bad idea, but it was overkill. I shake my head. “It’s what you pay me for, Pat.”
He smirks, then slaps his hand into my back. “That I do, my friend! And you’ve be earnin’ every cent of yer pay!”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You gonna offer me the usual scotch as my ‘bonus’? The one that I always refuse?”
Pat breaks out laughing and struggles to stay upright. “Y’know, I find it hard to believe you never take me up on that, lad? I mean, I never asked, but you got something against the god’s water?”
“No,” I say. “Just don’t like drinking on the job is all.” It was partially the truth, but the real answer was more simpler then that: I didn’t like being in a state I couldn’t control. I had enough problems as it was.
My boss smiles, then pats me on the back again. “Lord, where did I find you?” he announced with another laugh. “Well, yer shift is endin’ in a little bit, but I’ll let you go a little early. I don’t believe anyone’s gonna try anythin’ after seeing what you did to the other guy.”
I was hesitant to accept, but I also didn’t want to offend the guy. “Thanks, Pat,” I say, then turn to walk off. “I’ll be back at the usual hour.” The irishman waved me off as I head off down the street, then disappears back into the club. He was a good boss, if a bit eccentric, but he paid well enough.
As I walked down the street, I looked up and got a good view of the sky. Though the many lights from the busy city polluted the sky, a few stars still shone through the masking glow. I let out a soft smile at the sight, finding an odd comfort at the sight. The streets of South Boston, or Southey, were usually vacant at this time of night, and today was no exception. Being an older city, it’s basic layout didn’t really allow for much a lot of traffic. That, accompanied with the relatively small size, made walking one of the main sources of transportation. As such, especially in this area, the city remained oddly quiet, save for the distant roar from the more populated part of the city.
After a short walk down the vacant streets, I arrived at my apartment building. It was a modest complex, but still showed it’s age like everything else in Southey. I pushed open the door and headed up two flights of stairs to my apartment. The floor I was in was almost completely vacant, save for a neighbor a few doors down. She was a nice elderly lady who would often invite me over for tea. I wasn't a fan, but I knew she asked because she was lonely, so I usually accepted.
I pulled out my keys from my jacket pocket then pushed open the door, only to pause halfway into the threshold. The lights were out, as I always left them, so I couldn’t see anything past what was illuminated by the hallway light, but I could already feel that something wasn’t right. Call it paranoia or the result of five years of service, but I sometimes got a feeling when something wasn’t right, and I always listened to it.
I slowly moved the rest of the way into my dark apartment and closed the door quietly behind me. I opened the cabinet next to the entrance and pulled out my spare 9mm. I slide in a mag with a soft click!, then flip off the safety and begin to slowly walk deeper into my apartment.
My apartment itself wasn't anything special, only consisting of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. The front door lead directly into living room, and a quick scan through the dimly lit area revealed nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't have much; basic furniture and only the necessary living materials. My days in service had taught me to live light, but also to be neat. I kept my apartment spotless, more out of habit than anything.
The next room I checked was the kitchen. To my surprise, the first thing I noticed was that my refrigerator was wide open.
Strange, I thought, knowing fully well that it wasn't because of me. I closed it without looking inside before heading down the small hallways to the rest of the apartment. The bathroom was a mess; all my stuff that had been neatly laid out on the sink now lay on the floor, while the the remnants of a puddle lay next to a soaking wet towel.
I cleared my bedroom, spotting nothing out of the ordinary, then made my way quietly to the remaining room: my guest room. Now, I rarely went into said room, using it mainly for storage, so to find the door slightly ajar was the first thing to put me on edge. I slowly made my way up to the door and pressed my ear against it, listening to what lay beyond. I didn't hear anything, but I didn't let my guard down.
I took a deep breath, then turned and kick the door forwards. I entered weapon first, pointing it around the room as I quickly searched it.
To my relief, I spotted nothing.
“Thank god,” I mumbled as I flip the safety and tuck the 9mm into the back of my jeans. Since I saw no signs of forced entrance, I figured that the mess and fridge probably came from Mrs. Murphy, my elderly neighbor. I had given her a spare key to my house just incase I got locked out, or if she needed anything. Gonna have to talk to her about that, I thought to myself, making a mental note to do this later.
I turned around, about to close the door when a thought came to mind. I re entered the room and went straight to the piles of boxes I had laid out on top of the single bed. This was where I kept all that remained of my military career; every once in awhile I would wander inside to browse through what remained of that part of my life.
I opened the first box and pulled out a few loose photographs. In them, I saw myself in uniform, smiling at my first day of BUZZ (the training program I had to attend to become a marine). The rest of the pictures showed a slow decrease in that smile as they broke me, both in body and mind. By the end, all that was left was a hollow expression.
I put the pictures back and moved onto the next box. This one held the little trinkets and other items I had collected over the years from places I visited. They were a good keepsake, but their meaning had faded. I moved this one aside and opened one more box. This one held my awards. Most of them were commendations and achievements, the only notable one being my Purple Heart for getting wounded in battle. People always said that I should be proud of them, but I never really had that feeling—all they were was hunks of shaped metal that weighed down my uniform.
I moved this box aside with the others and grabbed the last one of interest. The rest were filled with clothes and stuff I didn't really have a need for, but also could bring myself to throw away. Inside this final box was where I kept the items that I used to remember the brothers I had lost in combat. Whether it was a picture or something else of significance, they all held the highest value of anything I owned. I believed that, if you remembered someone, they could never truly die. But, remembering the dead took it’s toll on the living, especially since this box was the largest in the entire room.
I looked at the items inside of the box for a little bit longer, then carefully folded back the lid and returned everything back to it’s proper place. Once finished, I turned to walk of the room, only to trip due to my distracted mind. I caught myself on the door to the sliding closet before I could fall onto my face, but almost immediately jumped away and pulled back out my 9mm and pointed it at the door. As soon as I had made contact with the door, the sound of something scrambling in the closet beyond had caught my ears.
“Who’s there?!” I announced, racking back the slide to add emphasis to my words. To my displeasure, I received no response. The next few minutes were met with silence, to which I used to plan my next course of action. Since they hadn’t tried to shot blindly through the door, I figured that whoever it was most likely wasn’t armed, which made my choice easier. “Come out with your hands up and I guarantee I will not harm you.”
There was another pause in which nothing happened. I sighed in relief, knowing that this most likely meant one thing: they were scared. Anyone with ill intent would have acted by now, as only the frightened chose to hide. Carefully, I inched forward until I could get one hand on the handle of the door. With a deep breath, I threw open the door and took a step back, my 9mm at the ready. I looked into the closet, only to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing things correctly.
“What the hell…?” I muttered softly, my gun faltering slightly.
Inside my closet was the strangest thing I had ever seen: a small, white horse. It was currently curled up in a tight ball, it’s front and rear… hooves? pulled tightly against its cartoonishly proportioned form while it shook violently. Large, blood red eyes stared back up at me with pure terror, while a large, spiral… wait, horn?
What the fuck is this thing? I thought, then set aside my 9mm on the bed behind me. For a good while, neither me nor the thing moved--the creature just shook and looked up at me with those eyes. It was strange, though, as I didn’t feel like I was looking into the eyes of a scared animal, but of a... human?
I collected myself from the initial shock, then lowered myself slowly, as to not make myself look threatening, then slowly inched forwards. Like it or not, I was going to have to catch this… thing eventually, as it belonged somewhere that was in my closet. I had worked with dogs before, and even had a few of my own when I was a kid, so I knew a bit about approaching a frightened animal. As I inched forwards, I made sure to keep track of the creature’s horn, as it looked as if it could do some major damage if I wasn’t careful.
At this point, I was only a foot or so away from the creature. It cowered and shook, but didn’t look like it was going to attack. I got my feet under me, the pounced forward. The first thing I grabbed was the horn, then I flipped it over and used my weight to pin it down.
“Don’t hurt me!”
My eyes went wide and I froze. I could feel the creature squirm and try to get free, but what unsettled me was the fact that I heard those words be repeated over and over again.
“Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!”
I jumped off the creature and scrambled backward until I felt myself hit the foreboard of the bed. The creature responded immediately by retreating back into the closet and return to is frightening ball form.
“D-did you just talk?!” I found myself saying.
“Please, don’t eat me! Trust me, I taste horrible! Trust me!” I heard the creature speak once again, to which sent me right back to my initial shock.
I shook my head, then rose to my feet. The creature continued to cower, but I tried to ignore it this time. I paced back and forth, avoiding the sight of the creature. I had experienced hallucinations before, but they had just been flashes of events I had encountered in combat. The doctors had told me that they were common for patients with PTSD, and that they would eventually fade with time.
This wasn’t like those.
I stopped pacing and looked back at the creature, who looked just as scared as ever. The rational part of my mind screamed at me to dial 911 and get to a hospital, while the other half wanted to see what would happen.
Somehow, the irrational part won out.
“Don’t worry,” I say in the calmest way I can. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The creature laughs. “Oh, yeah, right! You already tackled me to the fucking ground!”
I flinched. “Yeah, I know… but…” I took a deep breath. “You’re a talking horse.”
The creature ceased to shutter, then raised a curious eyebrow. “Yeah… and you’re a… a…” It looked me up and down. “What the hell are you, anyways?”
“I’m a human.”
“Yeah, that,” it said, then lifted itself up to a seated position. “Look… I don’t. I mean… Uh…” It scratched its head and looked around. “I’m a little lost.”
I didn’t know how, but I couldn’t help but laugh at that.
It seemed to get mad at me for this. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” it says with a pout, then crosses it’s hooves.
I calm down enough to speak. “Don’t worry, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the fact that I’m talking to a horned horse, and have apparently gone mad!”
“Horned horse? Oh! You mean unicorn, right?”
Oh, god, it’s a fucking little girls fantasy creature! I thought, that’s it, I’m out of here. I looked at the creature one last time, stood up, grabbed my gun, then walked out of the room.
“Hey, where the hell you going?!”
I walked back over to the front door and put my 9mm back where it belonged, then hung up my jacket and took off my shoes. The creature… unicorn walked up next to me and gave me a confused expression, but I ignored it completely. I proceeded to take off my boots, place them next to the door, and then walk over to my couch and flop onto it. The creature followed, then sat itself right next to the side of the couch.
“Are you ignoring me?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
The creature tilted its head. “Why?”
“Because you aren’t real.”
“What do you mean I’m not real?!” It screams back at me. “I’m right here! See, look!” The creature pokes me with it’s hoof. “Feel that?”
I groaned, then shifted from my back to a seated position. I stared down the creature, who cowered slightly. “Look! There is no such thing as talking… well, anything other the humans, okay? Since you aren’t a human, and you are talking, you aren’t real,” I said, then added, “Plus, unicorn’s ain’t real!”
“Okay…” it says, then scratches its head. “Uh… just a quick question?”
“Yes?”
“Where… where am I?”
“Planet earth. America. Massachusetts. Boston. Southey... My living room.”
“Oh, now that explains a lot!”
My eye twitched. “What?!” I scream. “What explains, what?!”
“Well, I’m from Equestria, which isn’t, uh… here?”
I facepalm. “Okay, okay! If I believe you to be real, and I haven’t had a psychotic break, then what are you doing here? How did you get from… Equestria, to here?”
The creature opens its mouth to speak, then closes it’s mouth. “Y’know what, I don’t know… I went home, ate a lot of junk food, passed out on my couch, then woke up in your bathroom.”
“What?” I deadpanned.
The creature raised its hands, er... hooves innocently. “Hey, it makes as much sense to me as it does to you! If you haven’t noticed, you just have to deal with me, while I’m stuck here.” She pauses. “Actually, how do I know that you’re not just my imagination?”
I go to respond, but stop myself. She was right… I shook my head. “Okay, okay… okay…” I got up, then began to pace again. “Okay… Okay…”
“Okay?”
“Okay!” I scream, then calm myself down. “Look, this is kind a stressful thing, right now.”
The unicorn laughs. “You’re telling me?” it says. “You weren’t the one tackled to the ground by some strange creature after waking in a fucking bathtub, hmm???”
I growled. “Look, I’m sorry about that, but I still have no way of knowing if you’re real or not.”
“But, I poked you!”
“Yes, but even that can be my mind playing tricks on me,” I say, then shake my head. “Ugh, what the hell is going on?!”
“Eh, whatever…” The creature shruged, then walks off.
I raise an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”
“Getting something to eat, I’m starving!”
My eye twitched.
After some loud banging, the creature walks back with a box of Poptarts held in… oh, for fucks sake! “How are you doing that?” I ask, pointing to the floating box.
“I don’t know. It’s magic, I guess.” The unicorn shrugs. “Never really questioned it.”
I take a deep breath, then smack my hands into my face. “What’s going on with me…” I mutter, my head buried in my hands.
I feel the couch depress as the unicorn sits next to me. “There there,” it says, then pats my back. “It’ll be okay.” I hear her take a bite out of one of my poptarts. “Do yoth wanna talk abouth it?” she asks, her mouth still full.
“No, that would be as helpful as an addict talking to a dealer about quitting,” I say plainly.
A poptart floats in front of my vision. “You want one?” I hear it ask.
I sigh, then pick the processed pastry from the air. I take a bite, then wait ‘til I finish chewing to talk. “Hey, what is your name, anyways?” I ask, tired of referring to the creature as ‘it’ or ‘the creature’.
The unicorn held out a hoof. “Name’s Vinyl, Vinyl Scratch!”
After a second of pondering how the fuck I would shake her hoof, I decide to just bump it. “Alex.”
Vinyl smiled back at he, then returned to eating her stolen pastry. For the first time since I had first seen the strange white pony, I began to relax. If she was real, she appeared to pose as no harm. And if she wasn’t… well, I currently had no way of knowing. I toyed with the idea of asking the neighbors if they too saw the talking quadruped, but was quick to drop it when I realized that both outcomes would end badly; they would freak out and possibly harm the creature or believe me to be crazy. I wasn’t the best with people, so I doubted I would be able to control either situation.
I let out a long sigh, then laid my head back. The pony. er… Vinyl, was quick to notice this. “Hey, you alright?” She asked as she looked at me with concern.
I took another deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I don’t know,” I said, then pressed my hands into my face. “This is just a lot to process, okay?”
“Yeah, I can understand that.” Vinyl shrugged, then frowned when she noticed that her box was empty. “Crap,” she muttered, then turned to me. “You got any more?”
I thought for a second, then shook my head. “No, I think that was the last one… sorry.”
“Damn,” Vinyl sighs, then throws the box behind the couch with a sigh. I look to her in annoyance, to which she raised an eyebrow. “What?” She asked innocently.
“Trash belongs in the trash,” I begin scoldingly. “You probably grew up in a barn, but here we take care of where we live.”
“Wow... now that’s racist,” she mutters, to which my eye twitches.
I groan, then push myself off up from the couch and walk over to the empty box. “If you’re going to stay here, the least you can do is clean up after yourself,” I say as I break down the box, then place it with the rest of my recycling in the kitchen.
“You mean I can stay?”
I walk back over to the couch, but instead sit down on the small armchair next to it. “Do I have a choice?” I exclaim with a sigh. “No matter what you are I’m still going to be stuck with you.” I shifted in my seat. “The way I see it: one of two things are happening. One, I am having a psychological break, which is highly possible, or two, you are actually here. Either or, I'm still stuck with you.”
Vinyl raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Am I, like, stuck here?”
“In a matter of speaking, yes.”
“Why the hell is that?” she asks in a huff. “Do you just not want to share me with the rest of your world?”
I gently shake my head. “Actually, I’d like nothing better to be rid of you forever.” I sigh. “Look, you are something foreign and new to this world, as far as I know, and us humans don’t have the best track record when dealing with creatures or people we don’t understand. We get frightened, and usually react aggressively. You’d either be destroyed or experimented on.”
The pony’s eyes went wide as she processed what I told her, and soon I noticed her shaking like she had when I first saw her. “O-okay,” Vinyl stuttered out. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
She gulps, then looks at me questionably. “And… and you wouldn’t do that to me, right? Destroy me or… or rip me apart?”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of doing anything of the sort,” I begin, only to let out a soft chuckle. “God...at this point I hope you’re real.”
“W-why’s that?”
“Because, if you aren’t, then I am pretty messed up in the head right now and I really don’t need that.”
Vinyl seemed to relax at this. Well, she stopped shaking, at least. “So… what now?” she asks.
I shrug. “Well, I’m going to move some of my boxes so you can have a bed to lay on, then I’m going to take a few aspirin and fall asleep on the couch.” I rise from my seat and head over towards the guest bedroom. “At this point, I’m done with trying to understand this. If you’re still here in the morning, you’re real. If not, I’m going to therapy.”
The pony may have responded, but I ignored her as I walked into my spare bedroom. Looking over the place in the perspective that someone… well, something was going to live here made me see the usually empty room in a new light. I started to move the boxed from the bed over to the closet and put what I could in there, while leaving what remained just outside of it. I remade the bed, more out of habit, then took a step back and observed my work. “Eh, good enough,” I mumbled, then headed out of the room to check on my ‘guest’.
To my disappointment, I found her still in the living room, having wandered from the couch over my record players. I walked up to Vinyl, who was looking through my extensive record collection. She goes to place a hoof on one of them, but I quickly smack it away.
“Yo, man, what the hell?!” she exclaims, holding her hoof as if I’d broken it.
“Don't touch,” I say plainly. “They’re old and valuable. Don't. Touch.”
“Whatever,” Vinyl snorts. “What else do you have for music?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You… You like music?”
“Yeah…” She says plainly. “Why wouldn't I?”
“Well…” I begin, then pause. “I don't know, actually.” I shrug. “Anyways, I’ve got a lot, actually. Here, follow me,” I say, motioning for the pony to follow as I head towards my room. Once inside, I grab my headphones from besides my bed and my media played that was connected to it.
“Well… not sure how you’d be able to use it with your…” I trailed off when the pony plucked the MP3 player and headphones from my hands with her… Magic, then walked off back into the living room.
“Thanks!” was all she said as she walked off.
I stood there for a second, shocked, then snapped out of my stupor. “Hey!” I scream after Vinyl, who is already comfortable perched herself on the couch. “Don't you need me to show you how to use it?”
The pony removed one headset from her ear (which already sit on her head at an awkward angle since they weren't made for her shaped head) and looks up at me. “Nah, I’m good. It's not much different than mine back home. A little harder to interface with, but it still works.”
I go to respond, but, instead, just shake my head. “Whatever,” I mumble, then let out a soft yawn. I smack my lips, then look towards the kitchen clock. Four in the morning? Shit, I need to get to bed.
I turn to Vinyl, who is currently bobbing her head from her position on the couch. I go to speak, but pause when I realize she probably wouldn’t hear me. Huh, so that's how it feels like? I think, finally realizing why people always got pissed at me when I tuned out the world with music. Little known fact about myself, but I’m an audiophile. Can't make music to save my life, but I sure love listening to it.
I walk over to the pony and pluck her headphones off.
“Hey!” she screams in protest. “I was listening to that!”
I ignore her. “Look, I’m heading to bed,” I begin, with a well timed yawn. “Bathroom is there.” I point to it. “Your room is there.” I point to the guest room. “You know where the kitchen is, andIi’ll be sleeping in that room,” I finish, pointing to my room. “Don't break anything and don't answer the door if anyone knocks—just get me. Besides that: good night, and I hope I don't see you in the morning.”
The pony snatches back her headphones. “Goodnight then, asshole.”
I ignored the comment, as I knew my statement may have been tasteless, but it was true. If I didn't see that oddly proportioned horse with a horn in the morning: I would be a happy man.
I walked over to my bathroom, only to grown when I instantly noticed the mess that I had yet to clean up. Mentally, I debated turning around and making my house guest clean up her own mess… I sighed, then leaned down and collected the loose items on the floor. “Stupid unicorn,” I mumbled to myself as I returned everything to it’s proper place. Once everything was in it’s proper place, I let out a soft smile, then looked up at the mirror.
My smile instantly fell.
The mirror held a reflection, but it was not one I recognized. Many years ago: I would have seen a bright, carefree kid with an irrational sense of optimism. Now… now all I saw was a tired, worn out veteran who had his sense of optimism crushed as he was forced to fight the devils that walked this earth.
I turn on the sink and quickly splash some cold water into my face. In my frenzy, I end up getting more on my shirt then on my face. I grumble, then take off the wet article of clothing. I throw it aside, then return my gaze to mirror.
I see the image of a desert landscape, with an old friend standing right by my side.
“IED! Get down!”
My eyes go wide as I dive out of the way, only to smash into a neighboring wall. My heart pounds and my breaths quicken. My head darts around the room like a prairie dog as I search for my wounded friend.
All I see is my own bathroom.
I slam shut my eyes, then take a deep breath. Slowly, I calm myself, using the breathing exercises the doctor had recommended. I didn't know how long it took, but eventually my heart returned to normal and my breathing steadied.
Keep it together, Alex, I thought as I slowly rose to my feet.
I inched over to the sink, then hesitantly looked into the mirror. I let out a sigh of relief when all I saw was my reflection and nothing else. I looked at my shirtless reflection. Years of my service had left me with an extremely well built body, one that I had managed to keep ever since I had been discharged. It wasn't due to body image, but from an ingrained habit of exercise and routine that I had never been able to break. But, if one were too look at me as I am now, their eyes wouldn't focus my build. No, they would be drawn to the large array of scars the littered my chest. Some, I had received during combat, but most were from the IED that had ended my career.
I turned around, the even more prominent array of scars that covered my back came into view. That was where I had taken most of the shrapnel, to which I was lucky not to have penetrate anything serious. To be honest, the most luck I had received was keeping all my limbs. I’d seen people’s legs blown clean off their body and arms torn from their sockets as a result of these explosions.
I shook my head, then turned away from the mirror and exited the bathroom, heading straight into my bedroom. I didn't even bother to remove my pants as I flopped onto my bed and pulled my blankets around me. My heart pounded, my mind buzzed—my brain was more awake than ever and I knew it would be hours before I could fall asleep.
I guess it was just another one of those nights...
I didn't dream that night, which surprised me. Usually, when I had one of my, uh…episodes, it was always followed by a nightmare. If I slept at all, that is. I groggily opened my eyes; the feeling I received proof enough for me that I had actually managed to fall asleep.
A good night sleep… I thought to myself. That’s new.
I tilted my head up and looked over at my alarm clock, only to smile at the fact that I had managed not to sleep in. I loved laying in bed as much as the next guy, but I tried to keep a strict habit of waking up around the same time each day. It allowed for routine -- something that calmed me.
I rolled myself out of bed, stretched, threw on some clothes, then walked out into my living room to check to see if my ‘guest’ was still there.
I sighed. She was.
Well, there goes my hallucination theory, I thought as I walked up to the horse asleep on my couch. I stopped when I stood over the animal, then watched her chest slowly rise and fall. She currently lay on her back, legs tightly wrapped around her body, with her mouth open wide. It was strange, but… I found the sight oddly peaceful. Hell, I’d go as far to say adorable. It was odd to think of such a creature in this way -- or anything, for that matter -- but it honestly fit.
I shook my head and banished these thoughts from my mind.
“Hey,” I said aloud, then poked the creature’s exposed stomach. “Wake up.”
She stirred and groaned, but refused to wake.
I repeated the action with fruitless return. I growled a few minutes later, then walked around the couch and gripped the underside tightly. “Wake up!” I screamed, then violently lifted the couch.
“Holy shit!” I heard her scream as she was launched from her resting place, then smacked into the ground. Vinyl was quick to recover as she scrambled to her hooves then gave me a dirty look. “What the hell?!”
I put back down the couch. “My house, my rules. You wake up when I wake up, or sleep in the room I gave you,” I said plainly.
“Whatever,” the horse growled, then let out a soft yawn. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Eight in the morning.”
She scoffed. “Who the hell gets up that early?!”
“Me,” I say plainly. “And now you, as well.”
Again, the horse grumbled, then walks over and jumped up onto my armchair. “So not fair…”
I let out a half-hearted chuckle. “You’re lucky I'm letting you stay here. To be honest, I’m still on the fence about what I think about you.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes. “What? Have I not wooed you with my feminine charm, yet?”
I vault over the couch and land on the soft cushions. “Seriously? Are you honestly trying to seduce me?”
“Why? You got something against interspecies romance?” she asks accusingly.
“Yes, I do,” I reply plainly. Honestly, what a stupid question! “Here, in my world, we frown against relationships between us and animals.”
“I’m not an animal!” she exclaimed. “I’m a pony!”
I roll my eyes. “Where I’m from, where you are now, ponies are animals.”
She goes to respond but, instead, lets out an exasperated groan. “Ugh, never mind! It was just a joke, anyways…”
“I don't do jokes.” It’s true, I don't. “Never been good at telling them, nor good at understanding them.”
Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Clearly…”
Out of all the talking horses I had to be stuck with it had to be a fucking sarcastic one.
I cursed my horrible luck.
The next few minutes are filled with relative silence. I observed the talking white horse while she continued to play with my music player.
The silence all but consumes me. Wracking my brain for conversation, I ask: “Where are you from?”
The horse lifts her head, then removed my headphones from her ears. “I already told you a while ago. Equestria.”
Strange name, I mused. “What’s it like?”
The horse thinks for a second. “Uh… it’s kinda, um…” She continued to mumble and shift awkwardly in her seat.
I could practically see the gears stripping in her mind while she tried to think of a response. Fearing her head may catch fire, I clarified, “Here, let me make it easier: What do you do in this… Equestria.”
The horse let out a sigh of relief. I toy with the thought of her catching fire. “Okay, that’s much easier to explain,” she began. “I’m a DJ. Y’know, disk jockey? I bet you have those in this world… right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
I watch her smile. “Now, I’m not just any DJ. No, I'm the DJ! DJ PON-3!” she exclaimed with much enthusiasm and pride.
Pon3, really? I chuckled inwardly at the name. Not very creative.
“I do concerts, dinners, clubs, parties… well, basically anything that’ll hire me.”
“Okay, I guess? It sounds like our worlds are at least similar, then.” I shrug, not know exactly what else to say.
“Maybe?” Vinyl shrugged. “I don't know, really. The amount of stuff from your world I've seen so far consists of your house, so I can't be much of a judge.”
“True,” I agree, then thought of a better question. “What’s your government like?”
“Weeeeeell,” she began, drawing out the word. “I'm not exactly an expert or… well, anything.”
Clearly, I mentally add.
“But I do know that our two princesses rule over everything and make the laws ‘n’ crap.”
Princesses? Interesting...
“How about your military?”
Again, she shrugged. “Honestly, I have no fucking idea. We have a guard and stuff, but… they don't really do anything that I know of.”
That was interesting. This world she described seemed like a fairytale. Though, this did cast more doubt that she was real and more that I had snapped. “So… I'm guessing you aren't currently at war?”
To my surprise, she chuckled. “Of course not! We haven't been at war since… well, since Nightmare Moon. And that was a long ass time ago.”
“How long?” I ask with interest, then lean forward.
“Uh…” she began while she tapped her chin. “A thousand years ago or something, I think?”
My eyes went wide. “You mean to tell me you haven't had a war in a thousand years?!”
“Uh… yeah?” Vinyl said with a raised eyebrow. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
I shake my head. “It's just… I don't think we’ve had more than a couple years without a war going on someplace.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…” I nod sadly. “We’re not exactly the most peaceful of races.”
She grimaced. “Geez...”
There was silence for a little while after that. Vinyl didn’t talk, only look at the floor with a downturned expression, and I didn’t really have the energy to continue with that topic in particular.
“So…” Vinyl began, awkwardly twiddling her hooves. “Anything else?”
I think for a second, but come up with nothing. “Not at the moment, no. I’ll probably think of something later, though.”
Vinyl smiled. “Sweet, my turn!”
Oh god, this isn’t going to end well… I sit up in my chair and await the barrage of stupidity.
“What do you do? For work, I mean.”
Okay, not as stupid as I was expecting.
“I work as security for a local club,” I answer.
The horse’s eyes look up at me with increased interest. “Wait, really?”
I nod.
“Ha, that’s kinda cool! So, you handle the drunk idiots ‘n’ stuff, right?”
“Pretty much.”
“So…” She smirked. “Any good stories?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, there have been a few.”
“Can I hear one? Or…y’know, all of them?”
Seriously? Does this creature have any maturity? I gently shake my head. “Maybe another time.”
“Awwww!” she wined, then crossed her hooves. “No fair!”
I roll my eyes and lean back on the couch. “They’re long and I'll be annoying to put into context. Maybe one day, when I’m really bored.”
Vinyl’s face slowly fell at that comment, something I was quick to notice.
I tilt my head. “You… okay?”
The horse shook her head, then looked up. “Wha’? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m…” She paused, then deflated. “No… no, I’m not…” Her head lowers and her eyes focus on her hooves.
I look at the now downtrodden pony and couldn’t help but feel saddened myself. I sat back up and leaned towards my guest, giving her a look of concern. “Seriously, Vinyl, what’s wrong?”
The pony sighed, then shook its head. “How am I going to get home?”
Oh, right… that.
I bit my lip. “I… well… maybe…?” I let out a sight. “I don't know.”
Vinyl deflated as well. “Yeah, didn’t think so…”
There was an awkward pause. For the first time since I had first seen the creature, I felt something other than confusion towards her: pitty. Honestly, I was still on the fence on whether to believe she was real or not, but I still couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor creature. She was alone, trapped in an alien world. I would be lying if I said I didn’t know how it felt, but I would be lying even more if I said I knew how to help her. I mean, how could I? She was a magic talking horse from a magic talking place of peace. It was a fairytale land, from what I could guess. A stereotypical land for ignorant little girls who believe that the world is actually capable of peace.
Or an ignorant little boy who believed they could save the world.
I shook my head and pushed away the little voice in the back of my head. He wasn’t helping, like usual.
“So, um… Vinyl,” I finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence.
The horse looked up, her face still downtrodden. “What?”
Crap… What was I going to say? I wrack my brain for some sort of response. “Do you, um… You hungry?” Yes, food. Food makes things better for girls… right?
“Yeah, actually,” she said with a soft smile. I inwardly jump for joy. “What do you have?”
I think for a moment. Okay… so, what do horses eat? Vegetables, I guess. Fruit? No meat, I’m guessing. Grain? Cereal… Yes!
“You like cereal?”
Vinyl nods, her smile widening. “Hell yeah!”
I chuckle, then roll off the couch and onto my feet. I walk over to the kitchen with the unicorn in tow, her downturned mood seemingly forgotten. I open up the cabinet just left of the refrigerator. “I don’t exactly have a large selection, so this is what I have.”
The horse jumps up onto the counter and balances on her hind legs. She regards each of the five boxes in the cabinet, then jumps down and looks up at me with a seemingly aggravated expression. “What the hell? That’s not cereal!”
I raise an eyebrow, then look back to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Nope, that’s cereal… Unless it’s different in her world. I turn back to her. “In my world, it is.”
“No, cereal is supposed to be coated in sugar and have lots of marshmallows!” She looks at the cabinet with a face of disgust. “Not that… that plain junk!”
My eye twitched. “That would be kid cereal. This is normal cereal.”
“No, that is boring cereal for boring ponies!”
People, I mentally correct. “If you don’t like it, then you’ll have to wait for me to pick up something you do like.” I grumble. “Could you at least try it?”
Vinyl huffed, then used her, eh… magic to… levitate… god, I’m gonna need to get used to this. She moved one of the boxes with her magic over to her. She regarded the box, then grumbled to herself as she walked back over to the couch.
“Uh… don’t you need a bowl?”
She jumped onto the couch. “Nah, I got it,” she said, then levitated a handful (hoofful?) from the box into her mouth. She made a spat of disgust but continued to eat.
Everything about this creature irked me. From her immature attitude to her blissful ignorance, to… well, everything! Part of me thought this was some sort of demon sent to haunt me, but I wasn’t a religious man. If god was real, he had a sick sense of humor.
I grabbed myself an apple and a glass of milk from my fridge and silently ate at the small table in the kitchen. I cringed at every loud crunch for the horse as she devours her ‘boring cereal for boring people.’ I tried to ignore it, but the thought that I was going to have to clean up after her was… Oh, for fucks sake!
I finished my apple, put my empty glass in the sink, then stomped over to the door. I grabbed my coat, then began to put my shoes on.
The horse seemed to notice this. “Hey, where you going?” she asked through a mouthful of food.
“Out,” I reply bluntly. “Don’t answer the door. Don’t touch anything. And, for the love of whatever god you have, please clean up your mess.”
I saw the horse opened her mouth, but I walked out and closed the door before I could hear what it was. I stood with my back to my closed door for a moment while I rubbed my fingers into my forehead. “She is going to be the death of me…”
“Who is, dear?”
I jump slightly. My head jerks up to the view of my elderly neighbor standing beside me. I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh. Hi, Mrs. Murphy.”
She gives me a warm smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you none. Just saw you exit in a huff and mumble to yourself.” She chuckled. “I may be old, but I know girl trouble when I see it.”
“Yeah, something like that…” You have no idea…
I felt a gently hand be placed on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. It’ll work out. If not, it wasn’t meant to be,” she began, then chuckled. “Remember: you always have me.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that last part. “Yeah, I know, Mrs. Murphy. You’ll always be my special girl.”
She gave me a light slap on the cheek. “And don’t you forget it!” I saw her struggle to keep a serious face on. “Now, help ol’ Murphy with her groceries.”
I smile, then reach down and pick up the bags I now noticed next to her feet. “No problem,” I say as I follow her to her apartment.
“Such a good lad. Now, don’t tire yourself out, because there’ll be at least two more trips back to my car.”
My left eye twitched.
[centerIt did, in fact, take three trips for me to bring in all of Mrs. Murphy’s groceries. For a little old woman who lived alone, she sure did buy a lot of stuff. She invited me in for a cup of well deserved tea, but I respectfully declined. I had a lot on my mind, at the moment, and I really wanted to get as far away as I could from my apartment. From the creature that resided inside...
I made my way out of the apartment and just walked.
It was cold, per usual. Light clouds hung overhead, but light still managed to peek through them. It may have been early morning, but the city was already well awake. In the distance, I heard the honking of angry Bostonian drivers, the distant rumbling of construction, and the even deeper horns from boats in the harbor. More locally, I could hear the pounding of heavy foot traffic, the scream of even more angry Bostonians, and even occasional car horn.
I found the odd symphony peaceful, in a way. Sure, every other loud bang! made me jump, but the sound of life helped balance it out to a manageable level.
I even cracked a smile.
I like walking. It was simple -- you just went where your feet took you. I liked the simplicity, in a way. It didn't require me to think, to remember. It just required me to keep moving forward.
Away from the talking horse in my home…
I stopped my journey, sitting down on one of the snow filled benches that lay sporadic besides the street.
Okay, there’s a talking horse in my house.
I took a deep breath.
There is not a talking horse in my house.
I shook my head.
There’s a talking horse in my house…
Again, I shook my head. Nothing made sense. Had I gone mad? Strangely, I preferred that over the latter. How would I take care of this horse? Pony, actually. I didn't know how to… send it back, I guess? Would I be stuck with it forever?
A thought popped into mind.
Can't I just… give it away?
I did fear the worst, and I felt bad for it... for Vinyl. I did believe she would be taken away and treated cruelly for ‘science’ or ‘safety’. But who said she was my responsibility? Who said I had to take care of her?
I pressed my hands into my head.
Why is this happening to me?
I know I have sinned. I know I have done things that no one should ever have to do. I have made decisions that no one should ever have to make. I have gazed into the abyss… and I have seen what stares back. I know what goes bump in the night. I know the demons that have walked among us. I have fought monsters… and I have even become one myself.
I slam my fist into the bench.
I grind my teeth.
I close my eyes.
I take a deep breath.
I allow myself to calm.
“Keep it together, Alex,” I mutter softly to myself.
I sat on that bench for a while. People walked past. The occasional car sped by. The clouds occasionally parted enough for some true sunlight to shine free. Life continued even when I did nothing to aid it. My service to the earth, to my country, ended when that IED went off. What could I possibly do to further it, now? I wasn’t a scientist. I wasn’t a writer. I wasn’t a politician. I wasn’t a businessman.
I am a soldier.
...
I was a soldier.
My battle was over. My time on the offensive had come to an end. I had no idea whether I had won or lost. All I did know was that now that I was home, and I was lost. What was I to do? Yes, I did have a job, but how did that better society? I threw drunks out of a bar and stopped underaged drinkers from entering.
Well, from this bar. I had no doubt that they just hopped on over to the next one, and the next one until they eventually got in. Wasn’t much I could do about that; kids had a keen ability to find ways around almost everything…
I shook my head, then stood up from the bench.
No.
Stop thinking about this.
Stop it!
I growled, then stomped off. A quick review of my surrounding area and I knew where I was -- my walk had apparently lead me towards the shopping district of Southey. Old, family owned shops lined the narrow cobblestone street. More and more people began to build up around me the further I walked. Soon, I went from being almost alone on the street, to tightly packed in the middle of a practical stream of bodies.
Most of them were tourists, believe it or not. There was something about the tight-knit, local culture that seemed to draw people’s attention. Growing up in the area, I didn’t really see the appeal.
I continued forward, gently following the flow until I came upon a shop that caught my interest. I broke free from the herd. I stood in front of the local ‘supermarket’, so to say. Really, it was more of a general goods store, but the owner -- a really cranky Irishman named Lenny -- insisted it was a supermarket. Never cared to argue, so I just went with it.
I pushed through the front door.
It was a little bit warmer than outside, but not much. Lenny wasn’t one to spend extra on something ‘trivial’ as heat. A good few isles lay out in front of me, each labeled in a fairly simplistic system. To the right was the checkout counter, with old Lenny himself ringing up some random patron. A tourist, I’m guessing, since he wasn’t yelling at them. I honestly can’t emphasize how two-faced this man really was.
I lazily browsed past a few of the isles, occasionally grabbing something I needed; replacement bathroom supplies (because of my ‘guest’), some more pop tarts (again, for my ‘guest’), a box of ‘real’ sugar covered, marshmallow-filled cereal (for my ‘guest’, believe it or not), and a few other things I needed to stock up on, anyways. Once I was done, I brought my hall back over to Lenny.
“So, I see yer finally straying from the healthy stuff, now?” Lenny commented as he tallied up my total. “Didn’t expect that out of you.”
I nonchalantly shrug. “Eh. Trying something new.”
“As much as I enjoy the business, I suggest against it. Especially from you.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “You’re one of the good ones around here. You’re respectful and know when to shut the fuck up. Don’t want to lose to lose you from a heart attack or somethin’.”
Now, Lenny was short, old, but could still look deep into your soul with a single stare. I wasn’t intimidated, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t creep me out a bit. I mentally noted that this was just one box of cereal and some other junk food and it wasn’t going to kill me, but I kept my comment to myself and simply nodded. “Thanks, Lenny.”
He nodded. “Don’t mention it, none. Now, this’s gonna cost you sixty-five.”
I pull out my wallet and pay the man in cash. He bags my items and I head out without another word.
Other than some shoveling, the walk back to my house was fairly uneventful. It was approaching noon, much to my surprise, so the sun was at its pique, shining down through its clouded veil. I walked up the two flights of stairs, then paused just in front of my door. Part of me hoped that it would be empty when I entered, my uninvited ‘guest’ nowhere to be seen. But, at the same time… another part of me kinda wanted her to be there. I didn’t know why, but it was there, I couldn’t deny it.
I shook my head.
I reached into my pocket and grabbed my keys, then unlocked the door, push it open and…
It was empty.
The living room, from this position, showed no signs of the annoying white horse. I smiled a bit, hoping that this pattern continued. I walked past the threshold, closed the door behind me, and then dropped my groceries onto the kitchen counter. My first response was to put everything away, but I decided it could wait while I checked to make sure she was actually gone.
I walked over to the bathroom.
No Vinyl.
I walked over to my room.
Still no Vinyl.
I walked over to the guest room…
My eyes saw red.
“Put that down!” I screamed, stomping into the room.
Vinyl, who was currently standing next to the closet, jumped at my sudden outburst. She went to speak, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I grabbed the photograph out of her magical grasp and put it back into the box where it belonged. I check to make sure that everything else was still there and no broken -- I sighed in relief when it was -- then closed the box and turned to face Vinyl. She opened her mouth, seemingly to say something, but then closed it when she got a look at the expression on my face.
She was scared. Good.
“What did I say?” I growled, looking down at the unicorn who now cowered under my scrutiny. “I told you not to touch anything!”
“S-sorry!” she meeped. “I-I was just curious and bored a-and you said this was my room a-and, uh…” She gulped. “They were just photographs and random stuff!”
My eye twitched. My expression steeled. “That ‘random stuff’ is all that I have left of some of the bravest people I know. They mean more to me than anything else in this entire house.” I take a deep breath. “Never touch it again, understand?”
She nods weakly.
I continued eye contact for another minute or so, then picked up the box and moved it into my room. When I returned, Vinyl was still standing with shaky legs, her eyes holding complete terror. I want to yell, but the more I look at her, into those eyes… the more I realize how unfair I was.
I took a deep breath, then kneel down and sit on the ground. Vinyl flinches with each move I make. She thinks I’m going to hurt her. Being honest with myself, I almost did. I lower my head.
I take several deep breaths.
Keep it together, Alex.
I don’t look up. “I’m sorry, Vinyl,” I finally speak, my voice almost a soft whisper.
I hear no reply.
“I… I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” I sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
Again, no reply.
I sigh, then shake my head. Good going, asshole. I look up and am surprised to see Vinyl sitting not far in front of me. I guess I didn’t notice her move. She still looks scared, but only slightly. What surprised me the most was how her eyes held… pitty?
Vinyl gulped, then licked her lips. I could see she was at war with something in her head. Eventually, she managed to utter quietly, “What happened to them?”
The question hit me hard, and I honestly didn’t want to answer it. So my surprise, however, my lips soon began to move. “They died.”
“How?”
I take a deep breath, then lower my head. “War.”
I didn’t look up, but I didn’t need too... I could still feel those sad eyes on me.
“Do you want to… do you want to talk about it?”
Did I?
“No… but I will.” I reach my hand up a wipe my eyes. They were wet. “I know you don’t have war where you’re from, but we do here. People kill each other for the most stupid reasons and fight for a cause that most of them have forgotten. I fought to protect those who couldn’t; to make a difference in the world… I don’t know when that fantasy died, but it did. There is no honor in war. There are no heroes. There is only death.”
I bit back a sob.
“That box is filled with all that remains of the people that I served with. They died. They died fighting for a cause that almost all of us had forgotten. I held some of them as they left this world. Some, I could have saved.” I felt a wetness roll down my cheek. “But… but that’s not all. I mourn their loss. I keep their memory alive. But… but I also think about those who lives I ended. They were the enemy. I killed them so they wouldn’t kill me, or my brothers, or the innocent. It was… it was the only… only.” I wipe my eyes again. “I hear their screams. Not only that, but I hear the screams of their families. Both of the ones of my brothers and enemies. I… they won’t go away! They won’t get out of my stupid head!”
I heave. Wetness rolls down my cheeks. I hold it in, but some leaks out. “Be strong,” I mutter softly. “A marine doesn’t cry. A marine is strong so the weak don’t have to be. A marine shields the world from the demons that walk among us.”
Something soft wraps around my neck.
“A marine is never afraid! A marine will never back down! I have gazed into the abyss and I have crushed all that has staired back!” I scream, my fists clenched. The softness holds me tighter.
My resolve weakens.
“Shh… it’s okay,” Vinyl softly whispered into my ear. “Even the strongest need to cry.”
I break.
I cry.
I am weak.
I…
I liked being held.
I cried. For the first time since I joined the marines, I cried. It was strange. I felt weak.
It felt good.
Vinyl held me. For a reason that I didn’t understand, she held me. She had nothing to gain. She should have been afraid. She should have just coward. She should have seen me as the monster I was.
Why didn't she?
For whatever reason, she did. She held me while I let out years of pent up sadness.
Eventually, I hugged her back.
I don't know how long this went on for. Could have been a few minutes, could have been a year. However long it was, it eventually came to an end. I released her, she released me. I stood up, wiped my eyes, smiled at her, then walked over to my bathroom. I splashed some cold water over my face. I looked up at the red-eyed, weak excuse for a marine.
I'm not a marine anymore.
I shook my head, cleared away the little voice in the back of my head, then headed out of the bathroom when I had collected myself.
I found Vinyl on the couch, playing with my music player. She looked up at me when she noticed me approach. Her eyes held pity and sadness, but her words were void of either emotion.
“Soo… what’s you get?” she asked.
She didn't bring up what had just happened…
I look at her cockeyed for a second, then mentally smack myself when I remember that I still hadn't put away my groceries. “Oh, right, almost forgot,” I said.
I tried to sound normal. I tried to sound strong.
I walked over to the kitchen and rifled through the bags until I got what I was looking for. I cracked a smile. “Got you something I think you’ll like.” I tossed her the box of ‘cereal’.
It landed on her lap, and I swear her eyes went larger than her head. “Holy shit, yeah! Now this is cereal!” Her horn glowed, and she ripped open the box. “Come to momma Vinyl!” she screamed, then levitated a large bite of sugar covered flakes and marshmallows and shoved them into her mouth.
She all but moaned as she chewed.
That was it, I couldn't hold back. I laughed. It was a genuine laugh. Not forced, fake, or out of nervousness or anything else. I laughed because… It made me happy.
Vinyl continued to devour the box at an exceedingly fast rate. To the point where I kinda regretted only getting one box. I looked up at the clock. It was almost two. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
Somehow, through the sound of the crunching, Vinyl heard me. She stopped her feast and looked up at me. “Yo, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just only got a half an hour until I have to leave for work,” I say, then poke my head into the fridge and pull out some leftover Chinese from a few days ago. Didn't have enough time to make something, so it had to do. “I’ll be back around two in the morning, though.”
Vinyl groans. “Ugh, again?” she whined. “You do know you're literally the only entertainment I have around her, right? At this point, I think being dissected is better than dying of boredom!”
I roll my eyes. “We both know that’s not true.” I reach into a drawer and pull out a fork, then take a bite of cold, two days old Lo Mein. It was horrible, but still beat an MRE. “Is there anything I can get to make your stay more pleasurable?”
She smiled wickedly. I felt like I made a horrible mistake. “Weeeeeeell. Now that you mention it…” I gulped. “Do you guys have TV?”
I blink. That’s it? “Uh… yeah. I got one in my room.”
She deadpanned.
“You could have asked before and I would have told you,” I say with a shrug.
Vinyl grabs her box of cereal, rolled off the couch, then headed towards my room.
“Don’t you need me to–”
“I’ll figure it out!” she screamed back, then closed my door.
I shake my head with a light chuckle.
I finish my food, put away the rest of my groceries, then walked over to my room. I opened my door to see Vinyl lounging on my bed, remote levitated in her magical grasp. She looked at me, took a huge bite of cereal, then turned back to the TV. I ignored her and grabbed my uniform. I briefly looked up and noticed she was watching some cartoon.
Didn't see that coming, I mentally note sarcastically.
I walked back to the bathroom, get changed, then walk back to my bedroom. I wait for Vinyl to look up at me.
“So, same rules as before.” I pause. “Well, kinda. Don't open the door for anyone. Don't break anything.” I nod my head to the growing pile of crumbs on the bed. “Clean up your mess. And, if you get hungry, please don't destroy anything. I don't know what appliances you have where you are, but if you don't know how to use one of mine, don't. Other than that, eat whatever you want.” I check my mental checklist. Yup, that was it. “I’ll be back around two. Please, don't destroy anything.”
She waved me off. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on.”
This saying confused me. She didn't wear pants, so… how did she…?
I shook my head, then exited the room and headed for the door.
I wanted to get home, look around, and see nothing amiss. I wanted to be able to look back at these few days years from now and laugh, chalking up it up to a bad reaction to… something! I wanted… I wanted things to go back to how they were. Simple. No horse in my house. No constant mental turmoil that I may be crazy. No crying. No feeling weak. Just… Just normal.
I didn't come home to an empty house.
Several hours of uneventful work had left me in a tired, zombie-like state, ready to pass out on the nearest soft object. When I opened the door, I saw her, sleeping peacefully on my couch. My first thought was not why she was still there, but why she still wasn't sleeping in the room I had given her. Had it been because of my overreaction earlier that -- well, at this point it would be the previous day?
I didn't focus on the question, just putting it off into the back of my mind with the others.
I threw off my jacket, pulled off my boots, then walked over to the horse sleeping peacefully. Her chest rose and fell in a gentle, harmonic motion. It was peaceful to watch (if not a little creepy) and I felt a ghost of a smile befall my lips. It didn't last -- a yawn reminding me of my growing fatigue. I walked over to the spare room, pulled off the comforter, then walked back and gently draped it over the horse. She stirred but didn't wake.
I watched for a little bit longer, then walked over to my own room and flopped down on my bed. Thought my body called for sleep, it didn't come. Instead, my brain drove it off. Questions all revolving around my unwanted guest filled my mind: how long would she be here, could I send her back, was she even here? I though on each of them, but still breached no answer. In all honesty, I was farther from the answers now.
Questions. The only thing constant about these past few days.
I pressed my fingers into my temples and tried to relax. I needed sleep. Answers wouldn't present themselves to a tired mind. It took a while, but I felt my mind calm. Sleep slowly gripped my mind, dragging me into the backend ether of irrational thought.
The air around me smelt of dried sand. My eyes burned slightly from the blaring sun despite the darkened sunglasses. I could hear the crunch of sand beneath my boots with each step, accompanied by the ambient sounds of the afghan desert.
Zack was at my left.
I turned to my fellow marine. He wore the same outfit as me: a standard desert camo body armor with an m16 held at the ready.
“So, what you going to do on leave?” he asked me, then used his had to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked around.
I shrugged, not putting much thought into his question. “The usual, I guess: say hi to my parents, sleep in, and maybe eat some real food.”
He chuckled. A humble, yet professional chuckle. “You really need to spice it up. You do the same thing, over and over again. Where’s the fun in that?”
Again, I shrug. “The point isn't fun, Zack. The point is relaxation so I can have a clear mind.”
He turns to face me, but still stays at pace. “But don't you want to have fun?”
“This is fun?” I didn't mean to word it as a question, but I did and didn't make an effort to correct myself. I hope to myself he didn't notice.
“That a question?”
Shit…
“Look, Alex, I know you’re all marine and no play, but it's not good for you. This takes a lot out of you, y’know? If you don't take a break, get your mind off this, you’re gonna put a bullet through your brain.”
A guilt washed over me at his words. “If I goof off… if I don't take everything seriously… someone dies.”
He signed, then turned away. “But if you don't, you die on the inside. You lose your humanity. You lose the part of you that we want to protect. I'm not saying go crazy and go to a strip clubs or something like that. Just… take a walk on a beach. Go on a date. Do something normal that’ll remind you of what we’re trying to protect.”
I look down. “Nothing is that simple anymore. You know that, Zack. I know you do.”
“Which is why I'm telling you this,” he replied almost instantly. “Take the effort to make it happen. That’s an order, Marine.”
I chuckle, a small smile gracing my lips. “I still outrank you, man.”
He rolled his eyes.
Silence graces us as we continue our patrol. Peace, though fleeting, exists for those precious few moments.
All hell broke loose after a single wrong step…
My eyes slowly crack open. The tail end of the nightmare still shadows in the corner of my mind, but it fleets as the seconds pass by. All that truly remains is the sense of fear, sadness, and slight anger. I'm accustom to the emotions, having felt them almost every morning. They don't affect me like they used too, time making them gray, but they’re still there.
I shake my head, then push off my blanket and roll out of bed. A few minutes later, I’m dressed and heading into my living room, slogging forward like a zombie. I look to my couch, see the snoring lump, and only let out a soft sigh.
I walk into my kitchen and prepare myself a simple breakfast: toast and eggs. I pull out one of the boxes of sugar-filled pastries and throw it onto the couch, waking its single occupant.
“Who, what?!” I hear the horse scream, then gasp. “Oooooh!”
I crack as smile as I carry my plate of fresh food to my small table. I can hear the faint crunching and following moans as my guest digs into her breakfast.
“Sleep well?” I ask, then take a mouthful of egg.
The crunching stops. “Actually, yeah. This couch is reaaaaaaally comfy.” She paused. “Hey, where’d I get the blanket?”
“I threw it on you when I got home,” I mutter, then take another bite. “Are you ever gonna use the room I gave you?”
I hear her get up from the couch, followed shortly by the sound of hooves approaching me. “To be honest, I'm more used to sleeping on a couch than a bed.”
I look up and see the horse take a seat in the chair opposite me, pop-tart box held at her side.
“Okay, I guess.” I shrug. “Your choice.”
A silence reigns as we both eat our food.
“Are we friends?”
I look up, confused by the question. “Huh?”
The horse looked down, trailing her hoof in circles on the table. “I mean… yeah, are we friends?”
I think for a second, then shrug. “I guess? I don't know what else to call us.” I could actually think of several words for our predicament, but none of them are actually worth saying. In my opinion, at least.
“Oh, okay…”
Her expression falls. I notice. “Vinyl… You okay? Is it still about, y’know, not knowing how to get home?”
She sighs. “Kinda. It's more, like… I've been thinking and… and I don't know how many ponies will miss me. Do they even know I’m gone? Is anypony even looking for me?”
I bite my lip. These aren't questions I know the answer too. “I’d think so. Don't you have close friends and family?”
“Yeah, I have friends and family, but…”
But?
“But not close. My parents never… they aren't really into my work, and my friends, well… I don't really have any close friends...”
Really? I think to myself. For some reason, I find this strange. I mean, her personality isn't my cup of tea, but I still would consider her a likable person, er… pony. I risk a question. “If you don't mind me asking… why don't you have any close friends?”
“Work, mainly,” she says plainly. “Being a DJ is a pain in the ass. Fun as all hell, but it takes a lot out of you. You can't take a break or tune anything down or you’ll be replaced by somepony else. It's a cutthroat industry. As a result, well… usually, I'm by myself, working on another set or getting ready for another gig.”
I gain a founder respect for the house DJ at my club. I go to speak, but can't quite find the words. Lucky for me, Vinyl speaks first.
“It’s okay, though,” she continued. “It is what it is, and I like what it is. I like my job.”
“But you are lonely, right?”
She deflates. I mentally kick myself. “Y-yeah…”
I watch as the horse in front of me sniffs, then wipes her nose with the back of her hoof. Her posture slumps, and I can see the sadness in her eyes. Sadness and… Oh, oh no.
Vinyl starts to cry.
She presses her hooves into her eyes, hiccuping as salty droplets flow freely. I bite my lip, looking on almost matching sadness. Part of me wants to react, to comfort her, but I can't quite figure out how. Do I say comforting words? Do just let her cry it out? Do I… do I hug her?
She continues to weep; a thick feeling of guilt growing in the bottom of my gut. Not being able to take any more, I mentally crush my feelings of insecurity and decide to just act.
I scotch my chair over to the crying horse, wincing as it scratches the floor. Once I'm right next to her, I hesitantly reach my hand up and begin to run it down Vinyl’s back. Her fur is soft, softer than anything else I’d ever touched. Vinyl shivers at my first contact, but doesn't seem to mind afterward.
I awkwardly run my hand up and down the crying horse’s back. Not knowing if I was doing it right, I tried to gauge her reaction. She didn't push me away, which was good, so I guess I’m not hurting the—gleck!
My eyes go wide as Vinyl turns and wraps her hooves around my stomach, now crying into my chest. Her grip is strong, stronger than I’d imagined, but I really did mind. Awkwardly, like the entire situation, I slowly wrap my hands around the horse and pull her close.
“Uh… There there?” I nervously say, patting her head. “It’s going to be okay…”
Vinyl’s cry dies down. She lets out a loud sniffle but doesn't remove her head from my chest.
“I’m a loser, aren't I?”
I was taken aback by those words and look down even more concerned at the pony in my arms. I was about to ask her why she had just said that, but decide against it, instead trying to be comforting. “No, you aren't, Vinyl. You’re not a loser.”
She sniffs again, her head still pressed tightly into my chest. I feel her tears begin to bleed through my shirt. “Yes I am,” she says between sobs, “Look at me! I'm a crying wreck and… a-and I’m a friendless loser! Even my parents think I am!”
I hold the horse tighter. “No, you're not, and I'm hard pressed to think your parents truly believe that.”
Vinyl laughs. Not a happy one, but an empty, half sarcastic one. “No, they really think I am.” She leans back and pushes me away. I let her leave my arms. She looks down, avoiding my gaze. “I… I dropped out of high school and… and they called me an idiot. I just… I couldn't take it. I wanted to just… I wanted to be a DJ. I wanted to just go out and party, not having to care about grades and social crap! They said it was stupid, that I was throwing my life away.” She sniffs, wiping her nose on the back of her hoof. I reach over and hand her a napkin from the table. She smiles, then blows her nose. “They kicked me out, calling me a loser and an idiot. I… I wandered for a bit and… and I did manage to make a name for myself.”
I smile slightly. “That’s good, isn't it? You proved them wrong. You managed to make a career and work your way to—”
“To a shitbox,” Vinyl interrupts, dejected. “I didn't lie before when I said I didn't have any friends because of works, but I also didn't tell you the entire truth…”
She goes silent. I wait for her to be ready to continue on her own.
“I not a famous DJ. I’m… I’m not terrible, but I’m not famous. I just… I have to take every gig I can just to make ends meet. I mean, I live in a shitty apartment in the middle of Manehattan, I’m pretty much broke, and due to my intense job schedule I barely have enough time to breathe!” She smacks her hoof into the table. I catch my glass before it tips over. “I’m a fuckin’ broke loser! This isn’t what I thought it’d be like! I thought… I thought I would be able to party every night, get paid bank each gig and… and…” Her anger subsides; the sadness returning. “And t-that I would be… famous. That I… I…”
I reach over and pull Vinyl back into a hug. She doesn’t object, pulling herself deeper into the embrace. All the while, I try to process the mare’s words. I run my hand through her main. “It’s okay, Vinyl… It’s okay,” I softly cooed, trying to sound comforting.
“M-my parents were right! I should have… I should have listened to—”
I cut the mare off by pushing her away so we see eye to eye. She tries to turn away, but I use my hands to keep her eye contact. “Stop it, Vinyl,” I say sternly. “Just… just stop.”
“B-but!”
“Please?”
“...”
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Look, Vinyl, I know what it’s like to have a dream turn out not how you planned. I… I went into the army thinking that I would be some superhero that would save the day, but I was wrong. I was a fool. An ignorant, stupid fool. I’m not gonna lie and say you aren’t an idiot too because you are. Dropping out was stupid. Your parent’s were right.” I take a deep breath. “But that doesn’t make you a loser. You followed a dream and it crashed in on itself. Shit happens. All that matters is that you tried. And, even more importantly, that you didn’t give up. Most people would have caved, but you didn’t. It’s probably too late to back out, but that doesn’t mean that you’re stuck. Keep going, keep trying. Don’t give up. You can only be a loser when you give up.”
I look down at Vinyl and notice her tears have stopped falling. I smile, slightly, but inside I still feel horrible. A new feeling of guilt washes over me as I think about my own words. Did I give up? I ask myself, then shake my head. That was a question for later, now is for Vinyl.
“You are not a loser, Vinyl, because you never gave up. Your dream crashed before your eyes, and you still kept going. That takes guts, determination, and a decent amount of stubbornness to do. Things may suck now, but it’ll get better. If it doesn't, just try again. Life won't change if you don't make it. I can't say for certain what you should do, but I do know for a fact what you shouldn't do, and that's give up.”
Vinyl lifts her head. She looks to me and smiles slightly. It's a forced smile, I can tell, but I can still see some genuine hope hind it.
“I… I guess you’re right,” she says weakly. “It's just that… it gets so hard, sometimes. Like, I work my ass off almost every day and barely have anything to show for it.”
“Do you like your job?”
“Well… I like performing, yeah — that’ll never get old.” She sighs. “It's just too much.”
I nod. “Yeah, life can get pretty tough sometimes. Just take it as it comes, one day at a time, and never let your dream die.”
Like you did?
My eye twitches at my internal voice. Vinyl doesn't seem to notice.
“Yeah… you’re right,” she began, wiping her eyes with her hoof. “I just… I guess I just needed to hear it from someone.” She looks up to me with an unforced smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” I reply, with a smile. “Sometimes we all just need to be reminded about what we’re fighting for.”
Like you did?
Vinyl chuckles. Her eyes are still red and puffy, tear stains running parallel down her face, but it no longer radiates the sadness it held before. She reaches up and feels her tear stains. “Y’know, I think I’m going to go and clean up,” she began, getting up from her chair. “Thanks again, Alex.”
She walked off, I smiled.
She closed the door, I still smiled.
I heard the shower turn on, my smile fell.
I let out a huge sigh, then looked down at my hands. I was happy that I had managed to, somehow, help Vinyl, but it had also caused some horrible thoughts to surface.
I gave up… I forgot what I was fighting for…
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I never gave up. A marine never gives up!”
You did.
I growl. Shut up!
Oh? Are you talking to me? Yourself? Wow, you really are crazy.
I press my hands into the sides of my head. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Avoiding your issues, eh? Deciding to push it off? That’s just the attitude that got Zack kill—
“Shut up!”
I smash my hand into a nearby wall, punching straight through the drywall and pounding a wooden support beyond. Pain erupts from the appendage as I make contact with something hard beyond, most likely brick or concrete supports. I pull it out of the hole, my knuckles bleeding. “Shit…” I mutter to myself, then squeeze the wounded area with my free hand. I hiss, it hurting like all hell, but not enough to be broken. Good.
I stand up, my anger fading, the voice silent, and head over to one of the drawers in the kitchen. I open it and fish out tweezers, some medical tape, and antiseptic wipes. I use the tweezers to pull out the splinters, then wipe down the area. I hiss, a deep cut from what I believe to be caused by a nail hurting the most. After that, I wrap down the affected area and with the tape, then return everything to its proper place.
After this, I begin to clean. I clean up breakfast. I clean up the couch. I clean anything that I can to keep my mind and body busy. I hear the shower running in the background, accompanied by what I believe to by Vinyl singing. I ignore it. I ignore everything.
The shower turns off. Vinyl soon trots out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head. At the moment, I had finished my cleaning spree and was sitting next to my record player, a simple symphony singing out of its speaker. Vinyl walks up to me.
“Not my cup of tea, but it ain’t bad,” she remarks, then uses the towel to finish drying her mane. “You got anything else, y’know, better?”
My lip twitches. “I’m listening to this. Just… just use the MP3 player if you don’t like it.”
Vinyl raises an eyebrow. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
“Oh… okay. In that case, I guess I’ll just… watch TV.” I hear her walk away, and into my room.
I remain next to the player, trying to focus on the music.
Trying to drown out the screams.
I recover about an hour later.
My mind had settled, the voices subsiding. It wasn’t the worst episode I’d had, but it still wasn’t pleasant. For years, they had been happening. I can’t remember when I had my first, nor did I know what caused them. There was just too many possibilities. This was the crazy I was used too. Not a talking horse, but the screams of the dead or flashbacks.
I got up, turned off the record player, and carefully put the vinyl back where it belonged.
After that, I headed over to my room. Vinyl lay on my bed, watching… something. I didn’t know what, exactly, but I honestly didn’t care. She looked up and gave me a soft smile.
“‘Sup?” she asked, then looks at my bandaged hand. “Yo’, you okay?”
I gave her a weak smile of my own, then walked over and sat down. Vinyl made room. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… hurt it.”
“Alright, then,” Vinyl began, seeming to get the hint I didn’t want to share. “Actually, I got a question.”
Or not.
“What do you usually do?”
Huh… don’t expect that. “Like, in my free time?” Vinyl nods. “Well… usually, I run, or walk, or… well, not much exciting, I guess.”
“That’s boring,” she commented. “Don’t you have any hobbies or… anything?”
“Besides running? Well… no, not really.” I sigh. “I never had time when I was in the service.”
“Well, what about before?” She sat up more straight.
“I used to play baseball.”
She tilts her head.
“It’s a sport,” I explain.
“Oh, well, where I’m from, we really only have hoofball,” she comments, then adds, “Anything else?”
“Well, I…” What did I do? I was… I remember playing games and stuff when I was really young, but… I can’t really remember much else. “I don’t know, to be honest.”
Vinyl goes quiet for a second. “If you don't mind me asking… what was it like in the army?”
I freeze.
Should I tell her? If so, what should I say?If I did… what would she think of me?
“It was… it was tough. I had to make decisions I know are right, but I wish I didn't have to make. I… I've seen things, done things, that never should have to happen…” I take a deep breath. “Us humans can be monsters, Vinyl.” I lower my head. “We can be real monsters…”
I look down, dejected. One of my therapists had told me I had ‘survivor’s guilt’, that I felt bad that I lived instead of them. I couldn't disagree with him about that, but I also could agree. It wasn't guilt that I felt — it was shame.
I think Vinyl notices my shift in demeanor, as she instantly changes the conversation. “So, uh… what time are you going to work?”
I look at my alarm clock. It’s currently ten in the afternoon, and I had to be at the bar at twelve. “In two hours,” I say. “Gonna have to leave you alone, again.”
She lets out a groan. “Ugh! Do you know how boring it is without you here?” she asks, throwing her hooves up in an exasperated sigh. “It’s, like, freakin’ torture!”
I imagine that she’s probably right. Well, past the dramatics. I go to speak but am cut off as she does first.
“Oh, wait! I have an idea!” She turns to me. I raise an eyebrow. “How’s about you take me with you!”
I almost choke on my own spit. “W-what?!” I sputter. “Vinyl, no, that would be really stupid! Someone would see you, for sure!”
I watch the horse deflate, grumbling to herself. “Oh, come on! I’m bored to tears here!”
“Would you rather be entertained to dissection?”
Vinyl grumbles to herself again, but this time remains quite.
“And don’t break anything!” I yell back into the apartment. Two hours went by like nothing. Vinyl complained about being left alone, again, and I reminded her that her idea was freakin’ stupid… again.
I closed the door behind me, locked it, checked the lock, then checked it a third time. Once I was sure that it was locked, I turned around and headed down the stairs. To my surprise, I didn’t bump into Mrs. Murphy on the way down. She almost always there to say ‘bye’. I take this as more of a surprise then a concern, as it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, and simply wave it off.
The walk to the club was short and uneventful, as usual. The afternoon sun shone down on the almost deserted streets of Southie, somehow managing to bleed past the almost constant cloud-layer. My boots trudged and crunched through the thick layer of slush on the ground. We have a saying here in Boston: “Don’t like the weather, just wait a minute.” The sea-side effect caused the weather to be quite sporadic; storms coming out of the blue and really patchy, strange weather. We could get eight inches of snow one day, then have it all meant the next in some strange heat-wave. It was currently warm (well, warm by our standards) at a balmy fifty degrees, but I had no doubt it’d drop back down by tomorrow. As I said: “...Just wait a minute.”
I approached the front door of the club. The sign said, ‘closed,’ but that would be changing soon. I pushed past the door and into the almost barren interior, save for its single occupant.
Patrick takes down another barstool from then turns to face me. “Ah, there you are,” he began, straightening out the rest of the chairs. “Don’t think it’s gonna be a busy day today since the Sox are outta town, so better get ready for a borin’ night.”
I take off my coat and put it on a rack that hung next to the door. “If you think it’s gonna be dead, then why open?” I ask, heading over to assist my boss.
“I said not busy, not dead. This is a business I gotta, lad. Try and stop me from makin’ money!”
I laugh at the eccentric Irishman, heading into the back. “If I stop you from making money, then I stop you from paying me. Believe it or not, but I kinda rely on the income.”
“Eh, you’d manage. I hear that the circus needs a new strongman!”
I roll my eyes, then pick up four kegs (two under my arms and one in each hand) then head over to the bar.
Patrick looks at me as I approach, then shakes his head with a light chuckle. “I was just kidding about the strong man job, but… I think you should consider it as possible future employment.”
I place the kegs down behind the bar. “Oh, for when you fire me? Come on, Pat, you know you can’t replace me.”
He laughs. “Oh, don’t be so sure, lad! Everyone’s replaceable, even you: it’s called a rhinoceros!”
Pat burst into laughter, and I can’t help but join him.
The bar gets set up, the booze gets stalked, the bartender and DJ show up (I give him a pat on the back), and I’m currently at my station.
People begin to funnel in at a decent rate. Nothing impressive, but I’ll agree with Pat that it was worth staying op—
“Pssssst!”
My head jerks up as I snap out of my head. I look around, only to find nothing. Okay… that was stra—
“Pssssssssst!”
I turn toward the neighboring ally. I raise an eyebrow. “Uh… Hello?”
“Psssssst! Over h-here!”
What the… oh, hell no! I swear to god—I stomp over to the ally and look inside. It looks fairly barren, having only a dumpster and a fairly large snowbank way in the back. I stomp my food, and say through clenched teeth: “Please tell me that isn't you.”
“…I-It's not me!”
My eye twitches. I walked over behind the dumpster and see… yup, I see a trembling—wait, no, she’s shivering. My anger fades.
“Suprise?”
I take off my coat and put it on the shivering horse. “Vinyl, what you fuck are you doing here?!”
Vinyl snuggles into my jacket, apparently too cold to care that I’d caught her. “I-I got b-bored and w-wanted to follow y-you... S-Sorry?”
I rub my temples. She fucking followed me? Wait, that means that she’s been outside for…
“Vinyl, come with me,” I say, motioning for her to follow.
“O-okay. Just as s-soon as I can f-feel my h-hooves,” she shakily follows me, holding my jacket as tightly around her as possible.
You fucking idiot, Vinyl, I think as I approach the back door. I get to it and motion for Vinyl to with here. She does, and I quietly open the back door. Luckily, Patrick keeps this door unlocked. Even more luckily it leads to the way back storage, which we hardly used. I scanned the area, a small rectangular room piled with boxes and other crap, and sigh in relief when I don’t see anyone.
“Okay, Vinyl, the coast is clear,” I whisper.
Vinyl shoots past me and into the relative warmth of the inside. She runs around until she finds one of the heaters and instantly hugs it like it was a gift from heaven. “Oh, t-thank C-Celestia, heat!”
I walk the rest of the way in, then look sternly down at Vinyl. “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you to stay at home! You could have… did anyone see you?!”
Vinyl, still hugging the heater, mumbles, “Don’t w-worry. No one s-saw me.”
My eye twitches. I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay… okay. I need to go back to my post so you… Just stay here and don’t get caught, okay? I’ll check on you whenever I can.”
I grab my jacket from Vinyl, almost having to tear it from the mare, and then stop outside. I mumble as I walk up the ally bad back to my sop—
“And where have you been?”
Shit…
I walk up to Pat. He doesn’t seem mad. More concerned than anything, if I had to guess. “Where the hell have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been waitin’ here for a while, and lord knows how much longer you’re gone before that.”
I bite my lip. “Sorry about that, Pat — just needed to take a leak.” I hated lying to the man, but I feared what he would say if he knew the truth.
He regards me closely. “Alright, Alex… but tell me the next time ya have to so I don’t leave the door unguarded. Yer just lucky I haven’t found a reliable rhinoceros dealer, yet.” He cracks a smile, then pats me on the back. “No worries, lad.”
I force out a smile. “Thanks.”
He nods to me, then turns towards the door and mumbles, “Cold as all christ out here,” and walked back inside.
I let out a long breath. “Holy fuck, that was close,” I mumble to myself. It was close. Too close. And now I had to worry that Vinyl could get caught. To be fair, though, Patrick would probably call me to take care of her before anything else, so I guess I still had that little buffer to rely on… I hope.
Each second that goes by after that moment feels like an hour. People come and go, and I keep looking at my watch. It’s been about an hour since I left Vinyl in the backroom. Since I haven’t heard screaming, I’m guessing she managed to remain hidden. I poke my head inside of the club. I look around and see Pat over the bar. He notices me. I pick up my phone and point to it, and he seems to understand what I mean and waves me off.
I close the door, thank god that he bought my lie, then run over to the back alley. I swing open the door and poke my head inside. “Vinyl? I whisper, stepping inside. I look towards the heater and… no Vinyl.
Fuck!
I run around the back room, searching everywhere for the white unicorn. When I come up empty, I nearly have a panic attack.
Oh fuck… oh fuck!
I run over to the door that leads to the main club. I swing it open and am instantly blasted by the club’s main bass. I walk forwards, only to stop and sigh in relief.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for you,” Vinyl screams, her head bouncing to the beat. “This DJ is pretty kick ass!”
I reach forwards and grab Vinyl, putting her under my arm and running back into the storage room. When I close the door, I put down the horse and look her dead in the eye. “Have you lost your fucking mind?!” I scream in a hushed whisper. “If anyone walked over there you would have been found out!”
Vinyl waves me off. “Eh, I was fine. I was close enough that I could’ve slipped back without anyone noticing me. Hell, my method’s already worked several times.”
My eye twitches, and I hope I don’t pop a blood vessel.
“Hey,” she begins, putting her hooves up innocently. “I just wanted to sample the music — can’t blame a DJ for loving her craft.”
“I can, will, and am blaming you!” I all but scream, then rub my hands into my face. “What the fuck am I doing to do with you?!”
“Uh… protect me?” she asks.
“You’re not making that easy!”
“Hey, I could have died from boredom. I saved myself, dude.”
At this point, I’m shaking. “You are insufferable!”
“No, I’m a pony.”
“Aaaah!” I scream, then stomp back over to the door. “If you get caught, I will kill you!” I say as I exit.
Vinyl just smirks.
The rest of my shift goes by painfully slow. I managed to sneak out a few time to check on Vinyl, who was usually listening to the DJ. Now, I can’t blame her for being curious, but I can yell at her for being an idiot! I called her an idiot a lot in those few hours. She… she didn’t care. Anyways, my shift ended, and I got Pat to let me lock up. I did the usual: check to make sure everything was secure, put the chairs and crap up, and, of course, lock everything.
Then, I went to pick up confront Vinyl.
“Never do that again, you hear me? Never. Do. That. Again.”
Vinyl lowers her head. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… I was really bored and… and I wanted too… I just…” She sighed. “If I’m going to be stuck in this world forever, I don’t want to be stuck in that house for all of that time.”
I soften at that, some of my anger fading. Some. “Vinyl, we don’t know that we can’t send you back ye—”
“Seriously, Alex?! How can you say that?” Vinyl outbursts, standing up and trotting closer to me. “I’m stuck here. You are fucking clueless, and I don’t know shit for dick about magic other than picking things up. Between both me and you, we’re fucked!”
I open my mouth. No words come out.
“See, even you can’t deny it, now. I’m stuck here. It’s something I’ll accept… someday. For now, I want to make the most of it, even if it ends in me getting cut open or something. I want to live, not be trapped.”
I find the words.
“Okay…” I say softly.
She smiles weakly at me, then motions with her head towards the door. “Now, come on, let’s get back home.”
I nod. Somehow, that realization hit me harder than it did her. Or… was she hiding it? I didn’t know, I just followed.
We walked home without any trouble. When we got back, Vinyl took the couch, again, and I headed back into my bedroom.
A cool breeze washes over me, sending a chill down my spine. I pull my jacket tighter around me. The night air is cold and chilling. I take a deep breath through my nose, filling my lungs to their full capacity, then breath out through my mouth. The chill of the night cools my breath into a clouding mist. I take another breath, this time focusing on the smells that come with it: salt, a tinge of pollution, and the distant smell of rotting fish. To most, this would be disgusting, or unnatural.
To me, it was peaceful. I had grown up with this smell—it becoming something that would remind me of home.
Home.
Such a foreign concept to me. For a while, I had a home. I had a family. I had friends. I had a place where I felt… safe. Then I joined the marines. I had thought… I wanted to help people. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to… become a hero.
I shifted slightly, getting a better position in the snowdrift I was using as a chair.
My home was gone. It was still there—my family was still alive, the house still stood, those friend I had all those years ago still breathed—but… the feeling of safety, the feeling of peace, and the feeling of something constant was gone.
Nothing felt like home, anymore.
I turned my attention up at the sky. Although there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, distant lights from the city polluted the sky, blocking out my view of the stars. Sure, some shone through, the strong ones, but the weak ones, the distant once, the starts that casted only enough light to be seen… were gone.
I let out another breath, the cloud of mist swirling in front of me as it was carried off in the gentle night breeze.
I couldn't sleep. My nightmare had kept me up. Memories of my sins, regrets, and deeds I had obtained in my quest to become a “hero” still haunted my mind. The doctor said this was normal—that it happened to a lot of people when they returned. They said that they’d fade with time, but never go away.
My mind was broken. My body was broken. My soul was broken… I was broken.
I clenched my still pained fist. I looked down at the fresh wrapping I had put on it before I had made my ways up to my apartment's roof. It wasn't bad, I’d had worse, but this was something that I had done to myself. Out of anger.
Anger.
I hated the emotion. I hated everything that it stood for. Anger caused pain, either to yourself or others. I got angry. Angry at myself, the world, at the fucking puppeteer that pulled the strings of life. I didn't believe in a god. I'd seen too much to believe one could exist. I'd prayed to one before. Several times. Sometimes for myself, other times for others. I never believed that someone heard me. If he did, he ignored me.
I unclenched my fist, then placed it into the snow.
I didn't know how I felt, at the moment. Confused? Maybe. I didn't know. Too much flooded my mind. Some old, others new. Some were scars, others were questions.
I let out a sigh.
Vinyl. That was what was on my mind. Sure, I tried to avoid it, but it was still there. A horse. A talking, fucking horse. She had come into my life and threw my already broken mind into even more discourse. I questioned reality. I questioned mortality. I questioned her. I questioned myself.
I questioned everything.
One thought still held clear: was she real? Was I crazy? Was she an apparition of my mind's creation? Was she my guilt? Was she… something? At this point, I wanted her to be real. I didn't know why, but I did. She annoyed me, brought me more anxiety, but I still felt…
Happy.
Deep through the conflicting emotions, there has happiness. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but it was still there. She had caused it. I don't know why, or how, but she did.
Home.
The though returned, but it didn't pertain to me. No. This time it was about Vinyl. If she was real, she was stuck her. She had been ripped from her home and placed in an alien world. I could relate. She should be terrified. She should be crying. She should be broken, but...
She wasn't.
Sure, she had moments when the dam broke, but who wouldn't? She’d always bounce back, being all bubbly, random, childish… innocent. I envied her. Her world was shattered, but she was strong. She was herself. She was… free. How? How could she do it? How did she do it?
Another breeze blew over me. I curled up even tighter.
I looked up at the stars -- the ones I could see -- and I wondered if Vinyl’s home was one of them. Was she an alien? Was she from another dimension? Another reality? It was a place of peace. A place of fairytales. A place of talking horses.
I chuckled my myself. I really am crazy, aren’t I?
I stood up from the snowbank. I spent a few minutes dusting off the snow that clung to my body. After that, I slowly walked towards the door that lead down to the apartments. Once I got to the door, I took one last deep breath.
“Home.”
I never ended up going to sleep that night. I feared what my guilty mind would show me. It’s kinda funny; someone of my age having nightmares. It was normal, so they told me. In all honesty, I really didn’t care. I didn’t care if I was the only one, or one of many. It either made me some sort of special, cursed snowflake, or just another voice in the crowd. Regardless, I didn’t care for titles.
I lay at my couch, my eyes following the slow rise of the light that shone through my window. It was morning. What time, specifically, I didn’t know. Today was my day off—I didn’t care for the time. I didn’t need too. I didn’t want too. Time was one of the constants that would forever travel without reprise. Sure, it was relative, but it still continued on. We couldn’t stop it. Nothing we could do on this earth would stop it from flowing, much as we wish that wasn’t the case.
Argue your physics mumbo-jumbo all you want—until you can stop time, I don’t care.
I shifted, slightly, getting a more comfortable position. I eventually settled on my back, eyes on the ceiling. It was cracked and chipped, the paint barely clinging on. I’d need to fix that, eventually. God know’s my landlord wouldn’t. Heck, Mrs. Murphy would before that cheap prick would. I didn’t care for the man, so much so that I never bothered to remember his name. It began with a ‘D’, I think. Danny? Maybe. I don’t care. I didn’t care about a lot of things, right now. It was one of those days.
I hear the door of my guest room slowly creak open, followed shortly after by the clip-clop of horseshoe-less hooves down the hall. Did she need those? Maybe. I didn’t care. She’d tell me if she did… probably. The gentle steps seemed to quite when they neared. I believe she muffled them when she noticed that I was on the couch. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. If she didn’t want to bother me, who was I to denounce this opportunity? I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, anyways.
I hear the hoofsteps near the couch. I think she’s looking at me. They soon leave and head to the kitchen. Some muffled, carefully opened cabinets later, I believe she’d found what she wanted. She travels over to the neighboring armchair and sits down. I hear the cushions depress. Following the worst possible attempt to conceal the crinkle of a freshly opened poptart bag, I can hear her start to eat.
Why was I focusing so much attention on following her movements? Did I not trust her? Probably. Best not think too deeply into it. Best thing I can do, now, is actually try to get some sleep. Vinyl was actually being quiet, for once.
Several minutes passed by. Vinyl ate, I tried to sleep. Again, a fruitless effort. Why did I even try? Oh, right, day off. Nothing better to do. The chewing stops.
“Hey… mom, dad?”
I raise an eyebrow, but continue my false slumber.
“Look… I’m sorry. You guys were right, I should have stayed in school. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have… run away.
“I know you can’t see me, nor can you hear me. To be honest, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you. But, I just want to say... I’m sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I should have been a better daughter. I should have,” I hear a sniffle, “there’s a lot I should have done. I just want to know… can you forgive me? I guess I'm stuck here, now. Some strange creature named Alex took me in. He’s strange and… damaged, but he’s nice. Kind. Caring, in his own way. I guess I'm in good hooves. This world it’s… not like equestria. It's scary, strange, and violent. You should see what they show on TV. It’s… eye opening.”
There is a pause. I try not to move. Her words interest me. To be honest, they confuse me. It wasn't hard to for anyone—or anything—to know I was damaged. A blind man could see it like the burning sun. What shocked me was how she thought I was… nice. Why did that surprise me? I wasn't a jerk… I think? To be honest, I really never thought about how I was, or how others view me. For the best, I guess? I stop my mental tirade as Vinyl speaks back up.
“I'm scared, dad. I’m… scared.”
Me too.
“What do I do? What can I do? Alex tries his best, but… I'm bored. Not only that, I feel like I've lost my purpose. I have no responsibilities, yes, but I also have nothing I can do. I can't go outside. I can't really make music. I can't… I can't do anything.” She goes quiet. I hear the chair creak, then hear her hooves land on the ground. I don't move an inch.
The hoofsteps head towards my bathroom, and I soon hear the door close, followed by the sound of the shower turning on. I open my eyes. A new thought fills my head. My own self pity, fear, and sadness are all momentarily pushed aside as a new purpose fills my soul:
I had to make Vinyl happy.
My eyes crack open some time later. Apparently, I had managed to fall asleep. That was good, I think? With a yawn and a stretch of my limbs, I twist slightly and right myself on the couch, now in a sitting position. I let out another yawn, then briefly look around the living room. Okay, no Vinyl. I focus on my hearing and notice a lack of the telltale sounds of a running shower. Okay, she’s done with the shower.
I stretch once more then rise from the couch onto my feet. Sluggishly, I make my way towards the guest room. The door is closed. I slowly and quietly creek it open and spot my single guest resting quietly under the covers, which rise and fall in gentle intervals. I smile, slightly, happy that she was getting some much needed rest. I close the door behind me and head back over toward the kitchen.
“Okay… now what?” I muse aloud. The promise I had made myself to make Vinyl happy was still fresh in my mind, but I had no idea how to go about it. I mean… how was it supposed to cheer up a talking horse? I could get her junk food—she loved that—but, then again, I was starting to worry it would start having adverse effects on her. Doesn't matter what species you are—that much crap can't be good for you.
I press my fingers into my temples. Think, Alex… think!
I began to pace, a thing I did when I was thinking. I pondered around the things I had noticed about the small horse; she liked junk food, being obnoxious, music, cartoon—
Wait …
A thought popped into my head. I cracked a smile. Quickly, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed some paper and a pen. I scribbled down a note explaining that I was going to be out for a while for Vinyl, then quietly placed it on the inside of the guest door. After that, I grabbed a few things that I knew I'd need and quickly ran out the door—I had a few people I needed to talk to.
About two hours later, I returned to my apartment with a small smile on my face. To my surprise and delight, everything I had actually managed to work out. To be honest, I was surprised.
I slipped my key into the lock and pushed open the door. I spotted Vinyl laying on the couch with a bored expression on her face. She turned to face me once I closed the door.
“Oh, hey, you’re back,” she began, then rolled off the couch and onto her hooves, “I got your note—where’d you go?”
I tried to hide my excitement. I didn't want to give it away just yet. I shrugged. “Just went out for some errands, nothing much.” I then walked over to the couch and flopped onto it.
Vinyl followed my lead, but, instead, flopping on the neighboring chair.
The was a brief silence in the room. Vinyl didn't talk, and I held my tongue. I had not been this excited in a long, long time.
“Hey, you okay?” Vinyl asked, shifting in her seat. “You're acting a little… strange, I guess?”
Shit.
I bit my lip. Think! “Oh, uh… it's nothing, really. Just bumped into an old friend on my way home.”
I think she’s raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? What’s his name?”
Shit shit shit!
“Uh… Tom?”
“You asking me?”
Shit, I suck at this.
I let out a sigh of defeat. This is a battle I would not win. “Okay, okay, you caught me.” I sat up on the couch, then turned to face the mare. “I may have… I have something special planned for you, later. I… didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
This definitely got her attention, as the cartoonishly colored horse instantly sat up, looking at me with expectant eyes. “Wait, really?!” she screamed. “What is it?!”
I chuckled slightly. “Now now, I told you I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“Is it a cake?”
“No...”
She scrunched up her nose, deep in thought. I chuckled, it was positively adorable. I don’t care how unmasculine that sounds; if you were seeing this, you’d be saying the same thing.
She let out an exasperated sigh, most likely at a loss for ideas. “Ugh, what is it???” she begged, giving me puppy dog eyes. “Please…?”
I had remained resolute in the face of gunfire, explosions, Drill Sergeants that would make a grown man cry, and even a gun to my head. But this… this was true torture. Against overwhelming odds, I stood strong.
“No, Vinyl, it's a surprise. You’ll have to wait.”
Her lip quivered, but I stood strong!
“Pleeeeeease???”
I shook my head once more. We were locked in a staring contest for a few more minutes, neither of us giving any ground. After seemingly forever and a true test of willpower, Vinyl caved.
“Fine, I’ll wait…”
I mentally jumped for joy, though my putter appearance remained unchanged. “Good,” I began, cracking a slight smile, “we’ll head out in about an hour or so for your surprise. Until then, I'm getting myself some much needed sleep.”
With that, I leaned back and closed my eyes, a smile on my face. I believed I heard Vinyl pace impatiently, making me chuckle. She eventually trotted back to her room to do… something. I don't know.
A few minutes of quiet went by, and I felt the pull of sleep draw me in. I welcomed its embrace, and did not fight back. I only prayed for a peaceful dream...
My breath was steady. My heart beat a mere whisper. The cool sand felt good on my chest as I lay prone, head down, even through the thick body armor strapped to my chest. My rifle was carefully clasped in my hands, ready to be used at any moment. The time would come soon.
I felt a slight tap on one of my rear boots. I carefully angled my head towards the source. The unit [spotter], a younger boy, motioned twice forwards with his hands. I nodded in understanding, then began to crawl.
Through the light sand, three entities crawled; me, my spotter, and [my fellow marksman]. The sun had set hours ago, the crescent moon now taking its place. It was dark, but not dark enough. If we weren't careful, we could be spotted with relative ease. Despite this, my breath was calm, and my heart was silent.
For five hundred feet, we crawled through the cool sand. My two companions followed my lead, stopping when I stopped and crawling when I did. Once we halted, our target was in sight: a fairly crudely put together compound. I didn’t know who the compound belonged to, that wasn’t my job to know.
We waited a few moment in the sand, completely still. I scanned the compound, making sure that there were no spotters looking in our area. After a few minutes, I seemed it clear.
I gave my companions a few hand signals. The understood, immediately getting to work setting up. Our spotter set up his scope, while the other got his rifle ready. I, myself, got my rifle ready. It it took me no time to set up the bipod, adjust my night vision scope, and screw on my silencer.
After only a few minutes, we were set up. I looked through my scope and surveyed the compound. Three guards around the parameter, while two stood sentry on the compound's wall. I turned to my fellow sniper and held up five fingers. He nodded.
“Overwatch, are you in position?”
I let a single click through my radio.
“Number of hostiles?”
I clicked five times.
“Understood. Assault begins on your trigger.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I continued this for several more breaths, then opened my eyes and trained my cross hairs on the leftmost sentry. I inhaled slowly, then pulled the trigger. A slight hiss rang out, followed by a puff of white as the target's head ceased to be.
I racked back the bolt and turned to the next target. Four more shots hissed out, split between me and my companion. Five bodies lay dead. I clicked the radio two times. All clear.
I watched as the rest of our unit hopped up from behind a neighboring sand dune and charged the front gate. The leader of the group pressed a breaching charge on the door, and I closed my eyes. A bright flash and loud bang rang out, followed by the rattle of gunfire.
I trained my eye on the door, waiting for anything or anyone to show their face that wasn't friendly.
“Enemy attempting to flee, shoot on sight.”
Someone ran out of the door. I fired. He fell dead. More followed, more lay dead. Me and my companion alternated between firing and reloading, our spotter shouting out commands or handing us fresh reloads.
I didn't focus on the targets, only making sure they fell dead. It was our choke point—our company knew to stay away. I only hesitated when a smaller entity ran from the breech opening. I focused. A child? More followed. Woman amongst them.
“Civilians spotted,” I spoke, my words caught on my throat mic, “requesting responsive action.”
“Fire without prejudice.”
I swallowed hard. I turned to my spotter and my companion. Their faces held the same hesitation as mine.
“Please repeat,” I muttered.
“Fire!”
I swallowed again. My heart beat faster as I resumed fire. They fell. They all fell. A new, unfamiliar blood soaked in the sands: the blood of innocence. I saw no weapons. I saw no hate. Only fear.
My sight began to fog. I reached in my chest pocket and pulled out a cloth and cleaned my scope. I looked back down the sight, but the fog remained. I paused, then wiped the cloth against my eyes. It cleared.
I resumed fire.
I awoke with a start; my heart pumping and breath shallow. Shadows of my dream still clouded my mind, filling it with the emotions it held: regret, sadness, anger and shame.
I sat up and leaned over, panting slightly. That wasn't just a nightmare; I knew it to be true, not false. I had done that. I had… I had…
“Hey, you’re awake!”
I jumped, almost falling off the couch. My head whipped around to face the source of the voice: a now concerned looking Vinyl. She tilted her head, eyes holding concern.
“Hey, you okay?”
I shook my head slightly and tried to clear it. I put on a faux smile I’d hope she’d believe. “Yeah, yeah… I’m okay. Bad dream, I guess.”
Whether or not she believed me, I couldn't tell. But, she did change the topic, which I was grateful for.
“Okay…” she shook her head, “anyways, is it time for my surprise, now?”
I turned my head and checked the clock. It was a bit earlier than I'd like--my nap had apparently only lasted an hour and a half--but close enough.
“Yup,” I said with a smile, “we’re gonna be sneaking out, so I need you to do everything I say, how I say it, and without question, okay?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
I let out a smile, then head to the door and put on my shoes and jacket. Vinyl stands besides me, practically bouncing like an excited puppy. For a horse, she does have a lot of dog-like qualities.
I find that a mixture of annoying and adorable.
With a roll of my eyes, I slowly opened the door. A quick scan of the hallway showed that it was empty. I exited my apartment and motioned for Vinyl to do the same. She complied, and I locked the door behind us. I slowly walked down the hallway and towards to the stairs, Vinyl following my on my heels.
This is going to be interesting.
Thankfully, the walk from the apartment to the destination of the surprise was an uneventful one. Vinyl followed my instructions to the letter, something that I was thankful for. Where I went, she went. When I said stop, she stopped. Like a puppy… sorta. A sarcastic, annoying, and easily entertained slob of a puppy, but one regardless.
The moon was just starting to rise, cascading it’s silver light onto the street, allowing us just enough light to see, but not enough to be easily seen. The night air was cool and crisp; a little warmer than the night prior.
I stood in front of our destination, quickly pulling out my keys and searching for the right one. Damn it, why do I have to have so many? I don’t own that much!
“What the heck are we doing here?” Vinyl asked from my side, looking up at me. “I thought you didn’t want me at the bar ever again?”
I rolled my eyes, finally finding the right key and putting it into the lock. “You’ll find out if you shut up and let me do my thing,” I muttered, trying my hand at being snarky.
I do believe I succeeded… somewhat.
I pushed the door open and motioned for Vinyl to go first. She did, but not with giving me a puzzled look that said, ‘What the hell are you planning.’ I ignored this and followed soon after her.
The club was dark, and I had to fumble for a few minutes to find the lightswitch that was near the door. Once I found it, however, I flicked it up, satisfied when the lights flickered on. I took off my coat and put it on the rack near the door, then walked forward and passed the still confused unicorn, who returned to her position at my side.
“So…?” she finally spoke up, “is my surprise hidden somewhere in here? Is it hidden? Do I have to find it?!”
I rolled my eyes and stopped by one of the closest tables to the dancefloor. I took one of the chairs and turned it upright, promptly sitting down and smiling contently at the practically vibrating white horse. I kinda hated to tease her like this, but I also didn’t. I’m terrible.
“Okay, okay,” I began with a light chuckle, then pointed at the DJ booth. “There is your surprise.”
The horse turned to face the booth, eyes wide and smile wide, then turned back to me with a still wide smile, but confused eyes. “I don’t get it.”
With yet another roll of my eyes, I motioned to the booth once again. “It’s all yours for tonight -- don’t break it.”
The mare’s smile grew, somehow, even wider, as her eyes opened equally as wide. Like a bullet, she was off like a flash, behind the table before I could even blink. I chuckled to myself as I watched Vinyl hop up onto the DJ booth, looking over the controls and crap with wonderment. I wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing, but her smile still remained on her face, so I believe that she was happy.
The idea had popped into my head earlier: she was a DJ where she was from, so I figured she’d get a kick out of being one here. Sorta. She didn’t have a crowd -- besides me -- but I think that having the equipment to do… whatever it is she does, would be good enough.
It appears that I was right.
After a few minutes of Vinyl looking over the controls and crap, I finally spoke up, “You gonna play something or not, Mrs. Pony.”
Vinyl lifted her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s pon three, actually, and I just needed to get used to this setup.” She smirked, then pressed some buttons on the control panel. “Now, time for me to show you why then call me queen of the wubs!”
Before I could make a snarky remark about how this is the first I’ve heard of this, a loud bass-tone blurted out of the speakers, followed shortly by a mix of sounds that I could only describe as lyrical gymnastics. It wasn’t my type of music, but it did sound good. And Vinyl looked happy.
That was enough to make me smile…
You know, I think this music is growing on me. It had been… what, an hour? Two? I check my watch. Vinyl had been playing for three hours. Non stop. I wasn’t sure what she was doing, that DJ crap was lost on me, but it appeared that she was making legitimate music. At first, I thought she was just playing some playlist and playing with the buttons -- adjusting this and playing with that -- but she was actually making her own original stuff! I had gotten a feel for her process: she would find some sort of base track, something simple that she would build off of, then add more sounds and stuff to make it more complex. I know I sound like a third grader trying to explain quantum theory, but I’m trying!
Anyway, this horse really knew what she was doing. She’d put our house DJ to shame! But that wasn’t what really got me. No, what got me what how into it she got. Her head bobbed to the beat, her mane bounced like a neon-blue sandstorm, and her whole body went into everything she did. She didn’t just make the music, she was the music! I could see the passion on her never ending smile. She loved this. This was what she lived for. I felt a hint of jealousy for that, but I buried it deep down. This wasn’t about me, it was about her. That goddamn magical horse. And it was magical, both in the literal and metaphorical. Even if you didn’t like electronic music, you couldn’t help but feel upbeat. Happy. I would have danced if I knew how. They didn’t teach you how to dance in basic, but they did teach you how to laugh at those who couldn’t.
I never knew that my smile was just as wide as hers.
Another hour went by, and I could finally see Vinyl start to tire out. Her music got less intense. She got less animated. Everything just got… slower. To my shock, the damned horse used this to her advantage and began to change the feel of a music. It went from upbeat to kinda slow. More… relaxing. Didn’t make me want to take a nap. It made me want to… well, sit down and take a breather. It was strange how much control Vinyl had over my from behind that table. If I didn’t know any better, I would have believe that it was some sort of mind control. It was like being puppeteered, but not quite. It wasn’t a force, but a gentle push. Coaxing, I guess. I wonder if there was a science behind this. There probably was, as there was science behind everything. Might stop by the library and pick some books up on it.
One more hour went by before Vinyl finally crashed. We all have our limits, even magical talking horses. She turned off her sound and practically dragged herself from stage, dripping with sweat, but the biggest smile possible on her face.
She trotted over to me.
“Did you hear that!” she panted out, looking at me expectantly. “That was awesome!”
I returned the smile, one brought onto my face not from the music, but by the happiness of the mare that stood before me. “Vinyl, I’ll have to agree with you there: it was awesome.”
The horse let out what I can only describe as a ‘squee’, then lunged forward and wrapped me into a sweaty horse-hug. God, horse sweat is gross!
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Vinyl repeated over and over again, hugging me tight.
Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around her, returning the embrace. “Your welcome, Vinyl. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
The embrace ended, Vinyl pulling away. Her smile remained. “Enjoyed? No, I loved it!” she screamed. “I mean, I’ve never used such an upscale rig, before! It was… it’s a thousand times better than anything I’ve ever used before!”
I cocked my head. This surprised me. “Really? I find that hard to imagine… Unless you mean that our tech is better than that of your world.”
The mare shook her head. “No, we have this crap, but I’ve never been able to use any before.” She blushed. “Never played at anyplace that could afford it..”
I winced slightly. Changing subject! “A-anyways,” I coughed out, “I convinced my boss to allow me to use the club after-hours on Wednesdays and Thursdays, so this isn’t a one time thing.”
Her eyes went wide, and I had to catch her before she could launch herself into another hug. “Can you please hold the hugs until you take a shower? You’re all covered in horse-sweat…”
Vinyl’s bottom lip quivered as she looked up at me with pleading eyes.
Fucking adorable horse…
“Okay, okay!” I relented, hesitantly holding my arms open. “Just one more.”
Vinyl tackled me, causing the chair to fall backward. I landed with a thud, Vinyl somehow keeping hold and remaining in a hug.
It had been three weeks since the first time that I had let Vinyl use the DJ equipment at the club. Since then, me and the magical horse had gotten into the habit of sneaking her in every Tuesday and Thursday. It had been a fun experience, honestly. Each night, her eyes would light up like the stars and she would bolt to the DJ booth. Eyes still twinkling, she would take about ten minutes to get all the settings and nobby things back to her liking before she started her ‘set’. During that time, I would take down my now signature chair and wait for her to start. I was an audience of one, but Vinyl didn’t seem to care. At least, not that I could tell.
Our relationship had gotten a bit better. Vinyl and I had gotten into a routine that worked for us. She had learned her boundaries--basically, what not to touch--and I had tried my best to get the unicorn as comfortable as possible. I had ended up doing a little bit of renovation to my guest room. Well, Vinyls room, now. I had gotten her a TV of her own, and even bought her a cheap laptop that she could use to browse the internet while I was gone.
This had mixed results.
At first, I thought that it would have been a good way for her to waste some time. Y’know, do those internet-y things that the younger kids were so interested in. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that I was a complete fool when it came to the internet as a whole. I could use technology fine, but I never could understand the social media and other Face… Insta… whatever the fuck they were. They made no sense. Like, Snapchat was a good example. Why the heck would you take a picture the would just disappear? I mean, doesn’t that get rid of the point of pictures? The whole entire thing seemed weird to me. The other social-media junk was just as bad. It looked to me like they were just willingly throwing away their privacy to anyone who wanted it. It was weird. I didn’t get it.
Regardless of that crap, I was happy. Well, content? Yeah, that works. I had a lot of changes in my life. Not all of them welcome. And it was coming up on that time of year.
Again.
“It's been a long time since you've come to see me hasn't it, Alex?”
“That it has,” I sighed. “That it has…”
There was a pause. Neither me, nor the other occupant in the room, spoke. The air was filled with the sound of ‘white noise’, which reminded me of the gentle sound of waves on a beach. It was a small room, only large enough for a large couch, which I was currently sat on, and a large armchair, currently occupied by the only other person in the room. Other amenities were scattered around the room; some plants, nick-nacks, and a few framed diplomas on the wall behind the armchair. A single window sat to my left. Beyond, the rocky waves of Boston harbor slowly churned in the less than gentle wind. I stared out the window.
“So,” the other occupant of the room spoke up, “I didn't expect you to come see me again. Is something on your mind you wish to discuss?”
“Old ghosts.”
“Pardon?”
“Ghosts of my past,” I chuckled softly, “They seem easier to deal with.”
My therapist looked at me strangely. "Are you alright? Truly, alright?"
"To be honest, I don't even know what 'alright' is anymore." I shrug. "Everyday is filled with more shit that makes me feel lost. Dreams seem more real than when I'm awake. And I've been having…" I pause and choose my words carefully. "Girl trouble."
The room filled with laughter, and I turn to notice my therapist chuckle slightly. I give him a dirty look, but he puts his hands up innocently.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he began, "but that was just so out of the blue I didn't know how to respond." He shook his head, then took a deep breath. "So, girl trouble?"
I blink. That's what he focuses on? Shrinks are weird. "Kinda…"
He leans forward and puts his clipboard on the ground in front of him. "So, tell me about her. You two dating? Just friends? What's she like."
I roll my eyes. Is he seriously fishing for gossip? I'm the one paying this guy, right? Regardless, what am I supposed to say? Should I say anything? What if I say too much? I bit my lip.
"If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to say anything," I hear him say. My gaze had, at some point, went from him to the floor. "We can talk about it later, if you want. Or, we can talk about something else. This is just something new for you and seems to be the real cause of your sudden visit."
I scrunch up my face. He saw right through me, didn't he? Cheeky fucker. I chuckle slightly, then lean back in my chair to meet his awaiting gaze.
"She's annoying," I began, "a slob and a complete pain in the ass. She doesn't clean up after herself. She eats all my food. And, on top of that, she doesn't know how to keep her… hands off my crap."
"You two living together?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, we are.” I nod. “But no, we are not dating. You can barely even call us friends. She's just someone who's a little… lost, at the moment, and I felt bad for her."
"Really, now?" he says. I tilt my head. "You just let a stranger into your house? Given your trust issues and general paranoia, I find that hard to believe."
"It's the truth. I've got a housemate that drives me insane."
"And you're sure there is no… romantic angle here?"
"Nooooo," I let out through a loud laugh. "Trust me. There is nothing going on between us."
"You sure?"
"One-thousand percent."
He pauses, then picks up his clipboard and writes a few things down. After a moment, he looks back up at me. "So, if that's not the case... then your protecting her. Is that right?"
In a cosmic sort of way… I guess? I mentally shrugged, then nodded.
"Do you feel as if this is…" he searches for a word. His hand twirls in circles. "Some way of satisfying your guilt? Every single time you've visited me in the past, you always talk about it. I know it weighs heavily on your mind. Do you feel that taking this girl in is a way of repaying some of that? A way to cope?"
I think for a sec. In a way, he's not wrong. It's not like I sought this out. She kinda just appeared out of nowhere. But, then again, I did make the decision to protect her. And I've gone more than a little out of the way to keep her happy. So, he's not wrong. I guess?
I shrug.
“Well, regardless, I think this might be good for you. You seem to have been caught in a rut for a while now, and this is change.” He paused, then continued, “Not sure if it is good change, yet, but I have a feeling that it honestly is. Even from our short conversation, now, you seem far less… on edge then you used to.”
“You don’t say…”
I awoke in a land of color. Everything was bright, vibrant, like the world itself glowed.
My feet rested on solid ground, yet it felt like I was floating. A cool breeze blew over me. I take a proper look around. I was in the middle of a forest. No, an orchard. The trees were too neatly planted to be natural. It was man-made, but something about that seemed off. Each one bore fruit. Apples, I believed.
I walked over to one of the trees and picked a low hanging fruit. It let go from the branch easily, then sat in my hand. It was bright red. Perfect, almost polished. I took a deep bright. Sweet juice rolled over my tongue.
It was delicious.
I made short work of the apple, and considered taking another, but decided against it. As surreal as this… place I found myself in was, it felt fake. A word danced in my mind. I couldn't place it.
Fantasy?
Yeah, that seemed to work. I felt like I was in a pristine fantasy. Everything was too perfect. Too calm. Too bright. The peace it brought eroded as unease took its place. Everything was perfect, which meant that nothing was.
At a second glance, a new word fell into mind: fragile. This place was fragile. A single black spot would ruin this canvas. A single imperfection would split it in half.
It did, in fact, take three trips for me to bring in all of Mrs. Murphy’s groceries. For a little old woman who lived alone, she sure did buy a lot of stuff. She invited me in for a cup of well deserved tea, but I respectfully declined. I had a lot on my mind, at the moment, and I really wanted to get as far away as I could from my apartment. From the creature that resided inside... 
