> Something Better to Cry About > by Endeav0ur > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a rainy night on the streets of New York city, with the wonderfully somber smell of petrichor in the air. I was walking home from a long day at work. It was just my luck that my car ended up with a boot on the tire, forcing me to walk back home and deal with it the next day. I suppose it was my fault anyways, what with my rear tire being twelve and a half inches away from the curb. I walked down the stone pathways, with the sounds of motorists screeching and honking, eager to get back to their homes just as I was. With the rain pestering my jacket I continued my trek; I ignored the pink flash a few blocks ahead, stranger things have happened. I simply continued walking, even as I approached the alley where the flash of pink occurred. I just kept moving, I didn't bother to investigate the flash of pink, or at least, I wouldn't have, if I didn't hear the muted sounds of a woman crying. At that, even my cold and weary heart required that I investigate, to console whoever could be so unfortunate to be sat crying in an alley way in New York City. My eyes lock onto a small cardboard box, hidden from view, but clearly the source of the sobbing. I had planned to call out softly and announce my presence without alarming the emotionally unstable cardboard box; but I had the misfortune of stepping on a piece of broken glass that was rendered invisible in the low light and wet streets. Luckily, I was wearing my hard-soled work boots, and it didn't affect me in the slightest. The crunch did, however, influence the card board box umbrella. As the sound rang out, the box shifted and stopped crying, ending with a slight sniffle. Ever so slowly, a small bundle of pink fur with large blue eyes peered out at me. I didn't stand a chance; my heart was immediately kick started by the shear wrongness of the situation. There should be no reason on earth, nay the whole of time and space that this small creature should ever be caught crying and alone. I was stunned by the strangeness of the creature I was faced with, as we both peered into the other’s eyes. I could only presume the small creature was watching my eyes for the same intelligence I sought in hers, as it was likely neither of our species had ever met before. An undetermined amount of time later, our silence was broken as the small pink quadruped was lifted from her musings by remembering her predicament. She started tearing up again, without the strength to openly sob in the presence of another being. I approached slowly, moving to sit next to her. As I did she embraced me fully, leaning up against me, evidently desperate enough for a companion to accept the small amount of trust I could provide. I placed my hand on her back, and eventually her tears and shudders slowed slightly, pushed back by the comfort of a warm body embracing another. Spurred by my small accomplishment I began throwing motion into the mix, petting her back, slowly, in an attempt to relieve the tension and sadness through physical contact, which worked much more effectively than I would have thought. We sat there, repeating the same motions for a fair amount of time. Soon the pink bundle of fur and bubbly hair began to relax, and the tears slowed. I gave the small creature a small shake, prompting her to look up at me, for the first time since I sat down. I made the motions to stand up, and she was clearly distressed at that, evidently not wanting me to leave her. I had no intentions of doing that, immediately motioning for her to follow me; an action that she had no objections to, as she eagerly jumped up to walk beside me. With that I began leading her to my apartment, where we could both get out of the rain that remained constant throughout the night. Upon arrival, I unlocked the door and ushered the little pink creature in. As she began to admire my humble abode, I went to the closet for some towels to dry off the clearly soaked creature. Actually, now that she's in the light, she looks clearly equine, some sort of pony? That name sounds fitting for such an innocently adorable creature. I carried the towels over to the pink pony, offering to dry her off, which she accepted, relishing the physical contact from earlier. After I deemed the now fluffy pony sufficiently dry, I decided some warm drinks were in order. I led the pink pony to my coffee bar and showed off my collection of teas, coffees, and other such drinks. She decided on a warm hot cocoa with marshmallows, and I went with a refreshing herbal chocolate tea, with cream and sugar. Ten minutes later we both sat down with our drinks on the living room couch, once again seated next to each other. It would seem the short walk and the warm drinks helped to lift the spirits of my new companion, I could see it in her eyes. No longer were they filled with tears, but rather with determined musings, as if my comfort gave her the courage that she needed. We spent a long while sitting there, sipping our warm drinks until they became cold, chilled by the insufficient heating in my apartment. I never thought to move away from the small pony whom I had taken into my home. It had become my silent mission to care for her until the time was right. Eventually, Inevitably, we were both captivated by the clutches of weariness; her from the severe emotions she felt before, and myself from the longest day I’ve had in a while. I gave her a reassuring pat on the back, and took our now empty mugs to the sink to be washed later. Afterwards I went to the closet and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket and placed them on the couch, implying to the small pony that I was offering her a place to stay the night. She accepted wholeheartedly, hugging me with a few more tears in her eyes, which I was proud of, as I gave her something better to cry about.