Gone in a flash
Hey, Twi
Sunset Shimmer stopped writing in her book the following second that she had started. It was then that it dawned on her that she had built up this massive speech in her head - riddled with casual analogies and similes and turns of phrase - that she had rendered herself completely wordless when it came to writing it.
How to start, how to start? She bit the tip of her biro apprehensively, but didn’t chew. She just sort of held it in her mouth, between her front teeth and lip, as she recounted the week just passed.
A flaxen light filled a line on the page underneath what Sunset had just written, and then the whole book vibrated like a smartphone: Greetings, Sunset! How are you?
Sunset stared at the page, drawing a deep breath up her nose, letting her chest expand in an effort to let it all sink in. As she then exhaled, she decided to abandon her speech entirely, and just get straight to the point. Besides, she didn’t have time to answer such complex questions.
Have you seen Flash, lately?
The sooner Sunset got an answer, the better. The sooner she got the answer, the sooner this itching, this desperation, for an answer - the answer - would subside. It was fizzling away in her core like a spell on the tip of her horn after she had tried casting it upon miscalculating its skill level compared to her own.
Sunset rubbed her hornless forehead. Admittedly, it was a little sweaty. She as a whole was a little sweaty. Whether it was from her anticipation, or the summer sun, she was unsure. The heat radiating from the school statue - of which Sunset leaned against - certainly wasn’t doing her any favours.
The book vibrated as Sunset absentmindedly peered over it and straight towards the doors of Canterlot High, where a plethora of students started to enter from the ring of the bell signalling the end of lunch. She didn’t get up, though. No, she could spend some more time out here. What was another missed lesson of chemistry with Ms. Cheerilee, anyway?
Sunset looked back down at the open page. You mean Flash Sentry?
The answer wasn’t something that felt worth the wait. Sunset gritted her teeth from right to left as the pit of her stomach sank. Her chest felt tighter. It was only normal, this reaction. She’d felt it at least a dozen times this week, alongside the itching for an answer. Just some sort of answer regarding his whereabouts.
If only her body wasn’t preventing her from crying, right now. Sunset identified the usual feelings of needing to cry: sore jaw, stinging eyes, contracting throat...
Perhaps she had been spending too long around Applejack.
‘Yes’ was all Sunset put down at first, but she soon scribbled out ‘Flash Sentry’ as she started to grind her teeth from right to left again.
Yes. Flash Sentry. Who else?
Sunset tapped her pen against the hard cover of her book a couple of times before replacing it in her mouth.
Well, recently the girls, Starlight Glimmer, Sunburst and I released But Twilight crossed that out. No, I haven’t seen Flash Sentry recently. Why?
Sunset tensed up at that reply. If Twilight hadn’t seen Flash - her Flash - then this wasn’t boding well for- wait!
I mean the one from your world.
Perhaps there was a miscommunication. Perhaps Twilight had thought she was talking about the human Flash when in actuality she was talking about the pony Flash.
Sunset’s book vibrated with an answer that she had been kidding herself over seeing otherwise: I gathered as such. No, I haven’t seen either Flashs as of late.
Sunset didn’t realise that she had been clenching her jaw until she heard the plastic body of her pen crunch in her mouth. The bitter taste of ink filled the right side of her mouth like blood. It pooled in the warm crevasse between her teeth and the inside of her cheek like a heavy storm filling a well.
Sunset just stared at her open book as if plagued by immense thought. More specifically at Twilight’s question: Why?.
Sunset pulled her pen to the page but let the nib hover over the paper as if the two objects were two of the same end to a pair of magnets.
Why had she finally called upon Twilight for help? Perhaps she had called just for advice. Sunset wasn’t too sure what she had been looking for from Twilight, but she knew for a fact that she had been - and still was - looking for Flash. Or at least, something that would let her know that he was okay.
Because she was so, so scared that he wasn’t.
Sunset took a deep breath through her nose again. Again, her chest expanded, and then she spat into the grass next to her. She’d even used her tongue to dish out any extra ink from her mouth before spitting again. She turned back to the book, and then to her eviscerated pen.
She didn’t have another. What if it ran out? Oh, how she wished for a quill right about now.
It started a week ago.
Sunset swallowed. She gave her broken pen an unfortunate glance, but continued.
He wasn’t in homeroom. Mr. Cranky said there wasn’t an authorised absence, so before first lesson I messaged him to ask where he was and if he was feeling okay.
The book buzzed. And from you messaging me now I’m guessing that he wasn’t?
Sunset hadn’t realised that she had been holding her breath until her chest went tight. She sighed to herself as she reordered her thoughts from erratically placed to chronological.
It wasn’t like Flash to just not come to school, so if he was sick or something and just forgot I would have understood. Heck, even I’ve done that. Pinkie, too. I haven’t gotten a response. I still haven’t.
The outside of the school was quiet. Empty. Sunset was the only one left outside. A potato chip packet rustled in the breeze. A small flock of seagulls cawed as they preyed on the rubbish left behind by the other students.
The book buzzed, again. Are you sure he hasn’t gone away with his family, or something? Humans do that too, right?
In a flash of anger, Sunset slammed her book closed. She placed her forehead against the cover. Her breathing was quick and shallow. It echoed and reverberated against the school walls.
She opened the book back up.
Not without telling someone. Twilight, where is your Flash?
Sunset stared at the unresponsive page for longer than what she appreciated. She imagined Twilight faltering with her quill. She stared for so long that she started to see the texture of the paper start to swirl like a monochromatic galaxy.
Twilight’s cursive glowed into full opacity on the paper. Buzz. The last I checked, he was still in the Crystal Empire with Princess Cadance and Shining Armor.
Sunset ground her teeth together in overbearing impatience.
Well then check again!
The reply was immediate. Sunset only had to glance at it to know that she needed to stop herself from releasing a scream: Now, now, Sunset. If my time as Princess Celestia’s student has taught me anything, it’s that jumping to conclusions won’t get you anywhere.
She only managed to clamp her mouth shut, but somehow an angered squeal still made it through.
The book vibrated again. Why don’t you tell me everything that’s happened, before you go assuming things?
Sunset drew in a deep breath, irritatedly. She huffed.
Fine. What have I got to lose? I’ve already lost him, haven’t I?
After waiting around all morning for a response from Flash, I went to Principal Celestia’s office to ask her. She didn’t know where he was, either. Just like Mr. Cranky and Ms. Cheerilee and Mrs. Mare didn’t when they read out the class register. They read out his name, cursed his absence, but didn’t even bother sending someone out to go look for him, or something, like I’ve seen teachers do before, both here and in Equestria.
I asked Principal Celestia if I could have an authorised pass to leave and check up on him. I was even willing to spend my lunch money on a bus ticket, or on cab fare, just to get to his house and see if he was there. She said no.
She could tell I was worried about him, and she said no.
She asked if I needed to spend some time with the student counsellor. That’s Vice-Principal Luna, by the way.
So I waited until after school. I was a wreck. I didn’t pay attention in advanced physics with Professor Hooves, and I got hit with a dodgeball in gym.
Gym was last, so we didn’t have to change if we didn’t want to. We could just go straight home.
I’d only bought a muffin at lunch because I wasn’t that hungry, and I sprinted to the nearest bus stop the second the bell rang. I barely even remembered to grab my school bag, Rainbow had to do that for me and then meet me at the bus stop.
Good thing she has those Equestrian powers, because my money and clothes were in there.
She’d asked if I was alright, because I had been distracted all day. I told her at lunch just after Mrs. Cake had asked if Flash was in today. I think it was just Twilight and Rarity who weren’t there out of the seven of us because they had had their lunch the period before.
“Oh, yeah, that,” Rainbow had said, and I admit it had put me in a bit of a mood for my bus journey afterwards. It was as if she didn’t even care that Flash hadn’t been in all day. How couldn’t she care? I still don’t get how no one cares that Flash is gone.
Rainbow had guitar practice with him. Applejack’s brother is one of his friends. Fluttershy even volunteers at the city animal shelter with him.
Have you ever felt a sudden shock or dismay for someone when they’ve let you down like this? It’s like none of them care about him. It’s like I’m the only one who wants to know where he’s gone.
I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong about all of this, though. Even then, I felt this dread dragging everything in my chest down to my stomach, turning it all into treacle and letting it slowly trickle down until the sensation made me want to vomit.
Rainbow had offered to come with me, though, and I accepted the over with gratitude. I’ve never liked travelling alone, even before I made friends here.
I jogged up to Flash’s house and knocked repetitively on the door. I stepped back with Rainbow by my side. I waited for an answer that never came.
As I waited for an answer, I looked up at the building. There were birds on the roof and there was a light in one of the windows on the second floor. There was an open window on the first.
Flash lived alone, most of the time. His parents were usually away a lot. I knew that from when he and I had been dating.
I think Rainbow was getting bored with how many times I had knocked and then stepped back to wait, because she told me it was time to go. I disagreed and messaged Flash again telling him we were outside.
I got no reply, so I decided to phone him. Maybe he’d pick up, then. I heard a phone go off from inside the house, and when I tried peering through the window, the one that led to the front room, through the thin gap in the curtains, but all I could see was the glow of the vibrating phone’s screen.
The phone soon stopped ringing because it had gone to voicemail. I left the first of many, asking if he was alright, and to phone me back when he got home, and telling him that I was worried.
Rainbow kept telling me it was time to go.
A neighbour was leaving her house just as I was about to give in. Her name’s Stormy Flare. She was nice enough, but it seemed as though she had the same temperament as Rainbow Dash when I had asked her about Flash’s whereabouts and if she had seen him.
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” I remember her saying. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen Flash leave the house in a couple of days.”
I thanked her, and decided to let Rainbow Dash have her way and leave. I left with her, but I was much more reluctant about it than she was.
We went to the mall after to meet with the other girls. I can’t remember what they were talking about. I think Twilight was sharing some stuff about astronomy, or something. I was too preoccupied with checking my phone for any reply from Flash to listen too closely.
Eventually, I asked Fluttershy where Zephyr was working this week and went to pay him a visit, because I knew that he and Flash talked now and again. He thought I was just making up some excuse to flirt with him, then asked if Rainbow had put me up to it, before I managed to get him to admit that he knew nothing about the case, either.
I left once he said that.
I’d then bumped into one of Flash’s closer friends, Sandalwood, at the fountain. He was with this girl named Treehugger. I think it was his sister, or something. I asked them. I asked anybody I recognised, from school or not. I didn’t care if it was Trixie or the popcorn vendor from the cinema or even Vinyl Scratch, who was notorious for being unable to have a proper conversation with, I just needed to know that Flash was safe and sound, so this horrible feeling in my chest would go away.
It’s still here, in case you’re wondering.
That night I spent most of my time that would otherwise be spent studying or sleeping or texting my friends checking my phone and calling Flash.
The following day I went into school, and Mr. Cranky in homeroom didn’t even question Flash’s absence. Neither did Ms. Zecora in biology or Mrs. Cake at lunch. The only teacher who did was Ms. Cheerilee, but that was because there was homework due and a test to be put out.
After school the girls and I went to the park. Twilight had chess club, so she didn’t join. Neither did Rainbow, she had soccer practice. I asked around again once we were at the park, but still found nothing I didn’t already know. Fluttershy mentions volunteering at the animal shelter, and leaves, and after ten minutes of contemplation I followed after her.
I helped tend to the animals while I was there under the guise of volunteer work, but really I’m just asking other volunteers as well as the staff members about Flash.
In the end, Fluttershy and I are just talking quietly to one another as we bathe a litter of puppies that had contracted mange. Really, I feel as though I was just talking to Fluttershy rather than with her.
It’s surprising, you know. To realise that even the counterpart to the Element of Kindness doesn’t care about Flash’s sudden disappearance.
I’m still uneasy about it all, to be honest, Twilight.
I mean, you care, don’t you?
I’m so worried about him. Both then and now.
I can’t just let it go, especially after seeing his house like it was on Wednesday. And yesterday, with that ugly ‘For Sale’ sign pitched in his front garden, and then another mounted like a store sign in between the front windows of the second floor.
Fluttershy had suggested calling his parents, “if I was so worried”.
I didn’t have their numbers. I wasn’t a crazy person.
So that night - Tuesday night - I borrowed a phonebook off of my landlord and spent hours looking through that and social media looking for a “Firefly”. That’s his mom’s name. Or, so he’d told me when we’d first met.
I couldn’t find her on Facebuck, or any other social media, but I did find her number. I messaged it, first, just to ask if Flash was with her, or if she had heard from him.
I feel like a broken record, asking everybody if they’ve seen Flash. Heard from Flash. Anything concerning Flash.
Almost immediately, I had a notification saying that the message had failed to send. So I called her. All that answered was an automated message telling me that the number didn’t exist. I tried shrugging it off. People change their numbers all the time, after all.
Phonebooks weren’t all that reliable anymore, anyway.
I searched up his father, Night Watch, too, but came across absolutely nothing, both online and in the phonebook.
It’s as if everything about Flash has just vanished off of the face of the Earth. Destroyed. Dismantled. Discarded. Whatever you want to call it, Twilight, something’s wrong.
Sunset shook her pen violently as the colour of the ink started to fade by the letter. She scribbled in the corner of the page and rolled it in between both palms until the colour of the ink returned to its more vibrant colour.
Before she could return to writing the week’s horrible events, the page of the magic book glowed with the familiar purple light, and then a vibration much like all of the ones before it followed. This is all very concerning, Sunset. I’ve sent a letter to Cadance and my brother asking if our Flash Sentry is still in the Empire.
Gratitude warmed Sunset for an extremely brief second. She looked up, and spotted Principal Celestia at the doors of the school, staring at her, with her arms crossed. Sunset’s heart started to beat so quickly that her hands started to shake.
She’d be stuck in detention after school, she was sure of it. That would be an hour spent thinking about what had happened to Flash, unable to distract herself.
Thanks, Twilight.
Wednesday came slowly. All of the teachers skipped over his name when they did the class register. All of them did.
Come lunch time (it was just me, Twilight, and Applejack), Twilight was busy texting Timber Spruce and I could tell that Applejack was uneasy talking about Flash. I asked Twilight, and all she said was “What? That guy that had a stupid crush on me in Camp Everfree?”
‘That guy’, Twilight. Flash was just ‘some guy’, now.
In the span of just under three days, Flash Sentry had gone from well-known, beloved student and friend to just ‘some guy’. It was insulting. I felt insulted for him, and so I corrected her, seeing as he was no longer here to defend himself.
“His name is Flash!” I’d said. “He’s our friend and he needs our help!”
After school I went over to Flash’s house again. It was untouched from Monday. The front room’s window was still open, and the upstairs light was still on. I knocked on the door so quickly that if I was Applejack, it would have broken off of its hinges.
I knew there wasn’t going to be an answer. It wasn’t like I could climb through the window, either. It wasn’t that type of model. It was one of those large panes of glass with two narrow latches like twins on the top, side by side.
Taking a deep breath to build up bravery, I tried opening the door with whatever ‘brute strength’ I may have had, being born an equine and all. To my surprise, the door just opened. It had been unlocked this entire time? What if someone had broken in?
There was resistance as I opened the door. Rustling papers. I looked down, and found a pile of untouched mail in the porch. I picked it all up and placed it on the table, where Flash had told me that was where he usually put all the mail. Each envelope was addressed to the house, but not a single one donned a name. The mirror above it was cracked and spotted with an array of shadowy colours, and the flowers in the vase were dead. The door tried swinging shut, but I was in the way.
A repulsive smell of rotting meat hit me as I opened the door to the living room, accompanied by a symphony of buzzing insects. There was a leather sofa that faced the TV on the wall with a matching set of armchairs either side encircling most of a coffee table. The smell seemed to permeate the house, and it made my gag reflex start.
There were plates of old scraps of food strewn on the coffee table like the last supper. Inside and all over were little white maggots, all infesting the plates as their predecessors flew overhead in an angry, feasting swarm.
I think a couple of flies tried landing on my face as I entered the room, but I swatted them away almost immediately.
There wasn’t an inch of floor space in the room, all of it littered with a thick carpet of debris (like coats and vases and broken, splintering pieces of broken furniture; in fact, I think the dining table was missing), and just from where I stood I could see that the kitchen was in a similar state of broken plates and scattered silverware.
“Flash?” I called, loudly, and a fly then flew straight into my mouth. I’d started coughing in an effort to get it out, but to no avail. “Flash!” I called again.
The light that illuminated the stairs from just next to me flickered, and then went out. I could only imagine that, if I was alone, the bulb had either run out or blown.
At the time, though, I didn’t care. In my mind, deep down, I felt as though I wasn’t alone. It feels silly. In the manner that the bulb had gone out, it must have blown. A flick of a switch couldn’t have made it flicker like that. But even now, I feel as though perhaps I wasn’t alone.
I’d somehow managed to freak myself out enough to leave almost immediately. I slammed the door shut and rushed to the bus stop to awkwardly wait for ten or something minutes until my bus came.
I didn’t phone or text Flash that night. I just showered, got into my pyjamas, and made sure at least five times that my doors and windows were shut. Then, as my stomach rumbled because I hadn’t been able to bring myself to eat, I stayed wide awake for the majority of the night, just laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling, thinking over everything that had happened during the week, and what I had seen in Flash’s house. What I had felt.
I’d only managed to catch an hour or two of sleep, and even then it was light, and I’d woken up from the ghostly sensation of something laying down beside me, facing me, staring at me, and then my whole body sinking into the mattress. It was a horrible feeling that made me feel sick as I sat up and looked around my bedroom.
I was alone, of course, because I lived alone and had locked all of the doors and windows the night before.
I was alone.
I left my apartment earlier than I would have liked. I didn’t like the idea of waiting around in an apartment with something else waiting for me.
I left, and found that the door was unlocked. Maybe I hadn’t locked it after all. That, or my landlord had swung by uninvited.
Which was funny, because usually he knocked.
I walked to school in a visually barren street. The sky was grey and it made me feel grey too. I don’t live in the nicest part of town, and sometimes I don’t feel the safest walking there alone, even now, but I swear I’ve never felt myself slip into some sort of paranoia before. I’ve just been cautious, but never had the feeling like I was on some sort of reality TV show where someone was following me around with a camera, or something.
I felt like the whole universe was watching. And I can’t properly describe how weird that feels, like the whole universe is trying to isolate you and watch you from afar.
You know, from everything that I’ve witnessed this week, my takeaway is that Flash… or at least the memory of him, is like chocolate. Chocolate you’d hold in your hand, just for it to melt all over your palm and fingers, and then you’re just, I don’t know, staring at it, wondering how it had happened so quickly.
It’s like Flash is just melted chocolate. Or ice cream. Because I’m upset over everything that’s happened, while everyone else just doesn’t care.
All of yesterday was just grey. I felt grey and the sky was grey and the hours passed slower than what they had since Flash’s disappearance.
I’d also gotten a D on that chemistry test I’d mentioned, too. Guess I was just too distracted.
And despite everything in me telling me to just go home and crawl under the covers (or ask one of the girls if I could sleep over theirs, with the strong craving for ice cream making me feel like a much more depressive version of Pinkie Pie), I still bought a bus ticket to take me to Flash’s house after school.
And there I’d found that the house had been suddenly put up for sale. I checked the front door, it was locked. All curtains were open and I could easily see into the front room. It was spotless. The whole house was spotless and new-looking, like a fresh template to start anew on.
Like it had been completely wiped clean.
Except for one thing. Flash’s phone was still on the coffee table.
I couldn’t close my mouth. I was in too much shock. And not the good kind like what Pinkie enjoys making. Eventually, I pried my eyes away from the window long enough to pick my phone out of my pocket and phone Flash.
The phone on the table inside the house started to ring for all but three seconds, before it cut off, and in my ear an automated message told me that the number I was calling no longer existed. I stared at the phone on the table. I stared at my reflection too, even the dark shadow that the glass reflected coming up behind me.
I had turned around quickly to see what it was, but there was no one there.
Sunset found her pen almost running out again, and shook it violently.
The book vibrated. I just received word off of my brother. Flash stopped showing up when he was meant to be on duty, and he was forced to let him go.
Sunset’s heartbeat started to race again.
But have they seen him?
Another buzz and a purple glow came from the book: No, they have not. Sunset’s eyes stung and she fought to keep her tears from falling. I’m so sorry, Sunset. Twilight then wrote. I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this.
Sunset wasn’t so sure Twilight should have been making promises she couldn’t keep. And neither did the thing behind her.