> Cracked Cog in the Idyllic Machine > by jmj > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > All in all you're just another brick in the wall > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lyra sat at the edge of the roof, back legs dangling haphazardly as she sniffled and rows of silvery tears dripped down her cheeks like water from a broken tap. Far below the unicorn lay the bustling city streets of Manehattan full of busy ponies jostling about happily in their daily lives, unaware of the teetering, struggling mare high above them. Picturing herself in freefall, Lyra closed her eyes and imagined the rush of air, the weightlessness of her body spread wide like a bird catching the wind in descent, and the way her body would explode like a rotten tomato against the sidewalk. In a strangely grotesque way, she hoped she would land further out in the road so that her demise might cause a temporary shock to the brainwashed automatons. She wanted to cause a scene, an undeniable, morbid moment so that others may look upon her remains, scattered so freely, and attempt to ameliorate the curse placed upon them by whatever demons had robbed them of their freedom. The minty green unicorn wiped away the tears blurring her vision with the back of a foreleg and scooted slightly closer to the edge, her flanks balanced at the precipice of the point of no return. “It’s too perfect… will they even notice if I fall? Will they remember tomorrow? Are they even capable with their big, dumb smiles and happy little lives to see the things creeping at the edges of their Utopia?” Lyra asked herself, wondering if the impact would hurt or would everything simply stop. Her emotions, her thoughts, her existence; would it just be over instantly as her body collided with the ground?  Recollecting into the oceans of memory, Lyra was a scuba diver scrutinizing the flora and fauna dwelling within. Each figment existed ideally in the abyss of time subjective to the mare and even the most detailed inspection could not unravel the answers to her questions. Her life, and the lives of all she knew, were consummate. There was no pain, no worry, lives pristine and free of anxiety. Such impossibility nagged at her mind, laying spider eggs of doubt and disbelief into the ridges of her brain. How many suicides had there been last year? Zero. The year before? Zero. The decade before that? Zero. In her life? Zero. It was unfathomable that no ponies had ever taken their own lives. How could such a thing be? Were the Princesses covering up all the sad little details of their flawless world or was she just an imperfect cog in the machinery of Equestria?  And that was exactly the problem: it was too perfect. It was fake. She wasn't certain when she began to feel this way but the last few weeks had affirmed the dark thoughts creeping through her mind about the reality in which she existed. “Lyra! What are you doing up here, honey?” Lyra tilted her head back enough to see her cream colored wife smiling happily to her from the roof exit. Despite the dire situation, Bon Bon appeared unphased, clueless to what was happening. “Ooh! Are you looking down at the ponies on the streets? Do they look like ants?” Bon Bon asked curiously, still beaming a bright, happy smile. “Bon… I’m going to jump. Can you really not see what’s happening here?” Lyra watched her mate with brooding suspicion. “You can’t jump, silly. It would be dangerous to do that.” Bon’s smile was unwavering, strangely unfaltering and emblazoned across her pleasant, cream puff features. “ I have to know, Bon. I can’t keep living like this. It’s all fake, it simply has to be. Nothing in life should be this perfect.”  Bon Bon moved beside the mare and leaned her head over the edge. She retracted quickly and chuckled like a foal. “Wow. That made me dizzy! You are so brave, Lyra.” Shaking her head, Lyra felt another few tears spilling away, falling hundreds of feet towards the ground. There was a thick, barbed lump in her throat that refused to swallow. “Don’t you care, Bon? Don’t you see what’s happening here? Are you even real?” “Ly-Ly, of course I’m real. What a weird question. Are you feeling okay? I’ve always known you to be a little… odd. Not that I’m against that, in fact, it’s probably my favorite thing about you. It’s one of the reasons I said yes… but that’s strange even for you.” Her tone was soft and loving, supportive but curious like a therapist. “Are you serious? You see me at the edge of a very tall building and don’t think anything of it? I tell you I’m about to jump to my death and you stand there smiling? Doesn’t any of this frighten you?”  Bon Bon covered her mouth and laughed to herself playfully. “Oh, Ly-Ly, you are so funny.” “How is any of this funny?” Lyra nearly screamed at her mate, agitation building in her gut. “Because you promised we would go see Die Fledermare today. You love the opera and I’ve never seen it before. Isn’t that why we came to Manehattan for the weekend? A nice little getaway for the two of us? It’s been perfect so far, so let’s stop playing this game and get ready.” Bon Bon sat and grinned at Lyra, her eyes shining in the noon sun like dainty disco balls. Lyra shook her head angrily and peered over the edge again. She breathed deep, heavy breaths. “No living thing would act like this when their wife is about to commit suicide! Is everything a lie, Bon? Including you? ” “I don’t lie, Lyra.” Her words were syrupy sweet. Lyra nodded, mostly to herself, and leaned forward, her weight shifting dangerously. “I love you, Bon. I’m sorry, I just have to know.” “It’s okay, Ly-Ly. They won’t let us see the bad things. They won’t let us remember.” “What did you …” Lyra attempted to pull back but it was too late. Her eyes went wide and fire burned deep inside her body. What did Bon mean? What did she know? She, unfortunately, wouldn’t be able to ask those questions as gravity took her.  The ground rushed toward her as the air roared in her ears. Her heart jerked in her chest and panic froze her thoughts. She kicked wildly as she plummeted and the dots below began to take the familiar forms of happy, carefree ponies. A stallion paused and looked up at her, a bright, clean toothy smile appeared on his face as if to say ‘good afternoon’ in a perfectly friendly, neighborly manner.