In a broken home, Apple Bloom finds solace in her newfound hobby, photography. However, the more she uses her father's mysterious camera, the worse her behavior becomes and the more disturbing her photos get.
Apple Bloom becomes obsessed with photography after Cheerilee begins offering a new class at school. The only camera her family has sits abandoned in the attic which granny inexplicably doesn't want her to use. After taking the camera anyway, Apple Bloom's behavior begins to change for the worse. As her artistic muse develops, the subject matter of her photos grows more and more disturbing and voyeuristic, while an unknown entity lurks over her shoulder, occasionally captured in her work.
The Perfect Drug - Nine Inch Nails Change (In the House of Flies) - Deftones Cradles - Sub Urban The Nobodies - Marilyn Manson Up Jumped the Devil - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds Zero - The Smashing Pumpkins Over the Rainbow - Dark Nightcore The End - The Doors Come to Daddy - Apex Twins Imagine - A Perfect Circle
The golden light of late afternoon pierced through the round window of the Apple's farmhouse attic. Dust motes swirled in the bright beam as Sweetie Belle flirtatiously twirled the end of a purple feathered boa she had draped over her withers. On her head was a wide brimmed hat with a bushy floral accent that might have been fashionable half a century ago and on her hooves, a set of well worn stallion work boots that only stayed on by her shuffling across the floorboards.
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom giggled at her combination of bizarre gait, facial expression and garment selection.
"Well Darlings, how do I look?" she asked with put on haughtiness in her best imitation of her older sister.
"So chic," cooed Apple Bloom, looking at her through the viewfinder of an old camera. She pretended to use the burst mode, making her own sounds for a rapidfire shutter along a high fashion runway. Choochoochoochoochoo.
"You're too kind, really," replied Sweetie, striking a pose "I do think the subtlety of the smelly boots accentuates the garishness of the feathers and petals quite well," she boasted, trying to regurgitate every fancy design word she'd picked up from living in a dress boutique.
"Rarity is somewhere having an aneurysm right now," laughed Scootaloo.
Apple Bloom set the camera down next to a dusty broken globe and began rummaging through the big dress-up trunk, determined to outdo Sweetie Belle's ensemble.
"What time is it?" asked Scootaloo. "I probably have to go soon."
"Y'all haven't even been here that long," replied Apple Bloom disappointedly.
Sweetie Belle smirked. "She has to go meet Rumble for some of this…" She turned her back to them, stood upright, wrapped her forelegs around herself and made kissy noises.
"Ugh, shut up," grumbled Scootaloo, her face turning red. She tossed an empty plastic water jug at the back of Sweetie's head. It bounced off with a comical sounding boonk.
"Ack," blathered Sweetie, falling back to all fours, her fancy hat now perched on the tip of her horn.
The three of them laughed.
"Apple Bloom," thundered a voice from somewhere in the house below.
Apple Bloom's ears drooped, knowing by the sound of her sister's voice that she was in trouble. The folding ladder to the attic creaked and then Applejack's scowling face popped up from a hole in the floor.
"Ya didn't finish yer chores like ya said ya did," she hissed caustically.
"But Ah did though," quivered Apple Bloom.
"Ah just saw a dozen windfalls along the drive alone," snapped Applejack. "Yer not gonna tell me they all just fell in the last coupla hours! Ah'm sick a yer attitude. Whole farm's goin' ta Tartarus and ya don't even care enough ta do yer basic chores."
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo stared silently at the floor while their friend got scolded.
"Yer friends gotta go home now so you can finish yer chores."
"But they could stay and help me," proposed Apple Bloom desperately.
Her sister shook her head with grim finality. "No, they gotta go. That's a consequence fer lyin' ta me. Now git to it." With that, Applejack turned leaving the fillies' fun afternoon in shambles.
"Well, um… see you tomorrow, I guess." mumbled Scootaloo, heading for the ladder.
Apple Bloom stared at the floor, mortified as Sweetie Belle levitated her borrowed clothes back in the trunk. They said goodbye and then Apple Bloom left the attic lastly, putting up the ladder alone.
She walked slowly down the stairs, watching every portrait and family photo float by on her descent. So many smiling faces. Where were they all now? She stopped at the bottom next to the most recent family photo and her eyes zeroed in on an engaged and lucid Granny Smith amongst three smiling Apple siblings. It wasn't that long ago that things were so different.
Passing by the family room, Apple Bloom caught sight of Granny sitting in her rocker and staring off into space. She used to like Granny but now being around her just made her uncomfortable and sad. She found herself avoiding her altogether. The filly sighed and pushed the front door open.
Apple Bloom's little cart that was just her size was inside the barn door to the right. She hitched herself up and wandered forlornly out into the orchard.
"Stupid apples," she muttered stopping to scoop up her first quarry of the expedition.
In her desire to get more playtime, she'd hastily told Applejack she'd already picked up the windfall apples even though she'd never even checked the ground. She had just hoped that few or no more had fallen since last time or that her sister wouldn't investigate.
Apple Bloom turned as she came to the control break, an ugly swath they had to cut through the trees to stop the rot from spreading to the healthy ones. The disease had already killed over a third of the orchard, leaving a graveyard of dry skeletons only good for firewood.
Apple Bloom tossed another apple in the cart with a thunk and looked up at the sky through leafless wooden fingers. It looked like the disease had jumped the break and was starting on the border trees. Better tell Applejack, she thought.
First the trees got sick, then granny had her stroke and couldn't help out anymore. Now she needed to be looked after instead which only exacerbated the farm falling on hard times... Then Applejack became mean.
Apple Bloom continued looking up, now distracted by the floaters in her eyes. Only the soft thud of a newly fallen apple was enough to get her gaze back on the ground.
"Apple Bloom," bellowed Applejack, stamping her hoof in the doorway.
The filly shot out of bed, her heart pounding with fresh adrenaline.
"If ya don't get outta bed this instant, yer gonna be late fer school!"
Bewildered, Apple Bloom looked at her alarm clock to find it was nearly twenty minutes past wakeup time. Applejack's expectant agitation told her she'd already come up and roused her once. She didn't remember that or the alarm. She must have just fallen back asleep. That happened sometimes.
"Ah- Ah'm comin'" she stammered. Apple Bloom ignored her hairbrush and instead just grabbed her bow. She scurried into the hall and clamored down the stairs to park herself at her place at the breakfast table where she stared discontentedly into a lukewarm bowl of tan mush.
"It's grits again?" she whined, poking the spoon which already sat sticking out of the bowl.
"Yes, Apple Bloom," her sister shot back angrily slamming a glass on the counter. "It's all we really got left right now 'cuz we gotta sell off all our produce just to keep this place afloat. You should be grateful somepony else made it fer ya."
Apple Bloom began listlessly shoveling the dull food into her mouth. "Mm-hmm,"she mumbled in lackluster agreement.
She was hungry but not that hungry. After having grits for two weeks straight it was just so bland to her pallet. Food was hard to justify eating if it didn't have taste and she wasn't starving. She glanced longingly at the clock. "Ah guess Ah don't have time ta finish it all. Ah gotta go."
Applejack glared into the half empty bowl as the front door closed behind her little sister.
Outside, Apple Bloom found her brother, Big Mac already hitched into the apple cart and waiting. She sidled up to him and the two quickly set out for town.
Birds twittered in the trees, unseen by Apple Bloom who was squinting into the sky as it grew brighter with the rising sun. "When are things gonna go back to normal?" she murmured.
"They ain't," Big Mac muttered bluntly. "This is the new normal. Assumin' we stop the rot from takin' any more trees, ya know how long it takes fer new apple trees to bear apples? Long time." He stomped a big dirt clod as it came up in his path, reducing it to dust. "We'll be scrapin' by fer as far ahead as Ah can see 'less we get away from farmin' apples. Things woulda been easier if Granny had just…" He mashed his lips together and hazarded a glance down at his sister. "We'll be fine. Just try to concentrate on doin' better in yer schoolin'."
These days Apple Bloom felt at odds with her whole family. Her siblings felt so much harsher now but at least Big Mac would still engage with her about her problems. It seemed like all she got from Applejack anymore was reprimanding.
The two parted ways at the little hoofpath that went to the schoolhouse. The teacher, Miss Cheerilee stood by the open door, greeting the students as they filed in. Big Mac stopped and waited at the head of the path until Cheerilee noticed him and the two waved to each other.
Apple Bloom absently rolled a pencil back and forth atop her desk. Bored with the lesson and having mentally checked out hours ago, she found herself zoning out, staring over at Scootaloo. Rumble covertly tilted a paper on his desk to show Scootaloo something. She covered her mouth, sniggering while Cheerilee continued her lecture excitedly. If they weren't careful, they were going to get moved apart, thought Apple Bloom.
She had never really thought about boys but now that Scootaloo had a coltfriend, it kind of looked fun. She could see herself hanging out with someone like Rumble. Her awareness suddenly returned as she caught the two making eyes at one another. She turned away, mildly curious about their special moments but mostly just uncomfortable interloping with them.
Apple Bloom went through the motions of a school day's worth of work like the c student she was and now she was closing in on dismissal. Suddenly she became aware of a strange stallion just waiting patiently at the back of the classroom. He was a cobalt colored earth pony wearing glasses and packing a hard plastic case on his back.
"Alright, everypony," chimed Cheerilee. "I have a surprise for you." She pointed to the door, prompting everyone to turn curiously in their seats. "This is Mr. Lens Flare. He's an old classmate of mine who works as a professional photographer in Manehattan now. I invited him to come share some of his photos and work experience with all of you."
"Thank you," said the stallion as he made his way around the desks. He carefully loaded a full slide carousel onto a projector while Cheerilee drew the curtains over all the windows.
How weird, thought Apple Bloom. Oh well. Looking at pictures or really anything was better than traditional class.
"So my name is Lens Flare. I've been a professional photographer for almost eight years but it's been a passion of mine since I could remember. I started out helping my dad in his portrait studio so it's not that surprising that portraiture is where I started when I became a professional."
Apple Bloom watched a sequence of studio pony portraits click by and sighed. They were good but not the sort of thing that grabbed her attention.
"After a few years, I started branching into commercial and travel photography for a couple of different publications in the city."
The next series of photos was urban, depicting life in Manehattan and other big cities. There were beautiful, picturesque places, statues, fountains, tall buildings and parks but there were also dingy allies, breadlines, graffiti and decay. This made Apple Bloom think. The fact that someone would take a nicely composed picture of something that most ponies would find ordinary or even ugly and make them look at it again in a different way was intriguing.
As he moved on to the next section, the next image to pop up was a night photograph of an illuminated cactus before a backdrop of swirling circular lines in the sky.
"Woah," breathed Apple Bloom. "How- how do ya take a photo like that?" she blurted while simultaneously raising her hoof.
"Oh, you mean the star trails?" he laughed. "That's what's called a timelapse photo, or a photo that is exposed over a longer period of time to capture movement or magnify brightness. It works really well for capturing the path of moving lights in the dark. I used a flash to light up the cactus. The streaks are the path that the stars take as our planet spins." He began cycling forward in the slides rapidly. "I have another one where I did light painting… Ah, here." He stopped on another night photo that looked like it was also in the desert. A series of beautiful multicolored streaks in the air made a recognizable outline of Princess Celestia.
"I call it my 'earth pony magic.' In this one we used different colored flashlights to draw a picture in the air using the same principle. You'll notice a lot of these are in the desert. That's my favorite location to shoot. The night sky is amazing and I love the stark emptiness but also the red rock formations."
The images were all so crisp and well composed but it was the ones that had a clever idea or perspective that gave her pause. She'd always thought of photography as just a way of recording something, a face or an event. One could save memories and then years later see them again exactly like they were. It had never occurred to her that the medium could be used with such avant guarde creativity.
Apple Bloom continued watching the presentation, enthralled until the very end. Then Miss Cheerilee took over again, standing in the glow of the projection.
"That was really amazing, thank you, Lens. One last thing before we go, let's have a show of hooves, who'd be interested in taking a photography class where you learn how to use a camera, take black and white photos and… um." She turned to Lens for direction.
Lens jumped in. "And you'd learn how to develop your own film and make your own photo prints in a darkroom."
Apple Bloom exuberantly raised her hoof and looked about the room, hoping to see genuine interest from the rest of the class. There was excited murmuring from nearly all of the students but mild commitment. She was saddened to see that Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo did not raise their hooves but surprised to see that Rumble and Silver Spoon did. She counted seven hooves in all.
"Okay," said Cheerilee cautiously, turning to the photographer who nodded back at her in approval. She cleared her throat. "The other thing is that you also have to supply your own camera." The teacher smiled weakly knowing that could be a big deal breaker.
Twist sighed and dropped her hoof. Apple Bloom wavered with disappointment but suddenly remembered the camera in the attic. No one ever used it. She must have been able to borrow it for a class if not just have it outright. With renewed assurance, she raised her hoof even higher.
Lens nodded again. "Alright. I can commit to coming to Ponyville every Friday and teaching here for an hour after regular school. I'll be doing mostly labs and technical help while Your Teacher, Miss Cheerilee will handle most of the basic teaching and direction."
"I'll do my best," laughed Cheerilee nervously.
"I'll set up the dark room here and we can start next week," continued Lens. "Since it's such a small class and I actually get a nice tax break for doing this, I should also be able to supply everything you need, including the film. We'll see. You just make sure to bring the camera."
"Thank you for coming and giving us this opportunity, Lens Flare. That's all for today, class."
Apple Bloom burst through the front door of the farm house and clattered up the stairs all the way to the attic where the coveted device was waiting for her. She brought the little single lens reflex camera into the kitchen where Applejack was washing dishes in the sink.
"Applejack, they're doin' a photography class at school and I wanna do it."
"Is it gonna cost?" asked Applejack skeptically, keeping her eyes on her work.
"Ah don't think so."
"They givin' you a camera?"
Apple Bloom held up the abandoned device from the attic, waiting for her sister to look at her. "Could Ah, use the old camera from the attic?"
Applejack finally turned to face her. "Oh, that thing," she sighed. "Granny gave that ta daddy fer his weddin' anniversary. If ya wanna use it, go ask Granny."
Apple Bloom frowned in frustration. She hadn't been able to have any sort of conversation with Granny since her stroke. How would she be able to get her to consent to do something? "But Granny barely talks or even knows yer there at all," she argued.
Applejack's eyes narrowed. "Don't be disrespectful. She's still with us and as far as Ah see it, it's her camera. You ain't usin' it without her permission."
Apple Bloom's scowl deepened as she turned away. She didn't see how this would work but she had to at least try. Otherwise she could forget about taking that class. She poked her head into the family room where Granny Smith was sitting motionlessly in her rocker, eyes fixed on the floor.
"Granny?" called Apple Bloom weakly as she padded up to her uneasily. The mare didn't move, nor did her eyes shift away from oblivion. "Granny?" she asked again, the uncanniness of her semi presence was quickly wearing on the filly's nerves. It was all she could do to not turn and flee. Was she really still in there somewhere? "Could Ah borrow daddy's camera?" She waited for a response that she knew wouldn't come. Then she held up the camera as a visual aid hoping against hope to jar her from her stupor. "'Member, this one?"
Apple Bloom's jaw went slack in surprise as Granny's eyes flicked over to the camera. Tho old mare's orbs widened in terror and she began shaking her head, no, her whole body, side to side in protest.
Granny reached out a trembling hoof. "Ah- ahh- ah- ah-"
Afraid, Apple Bloom tucked the camera behind herself and began backing away. All the while, Granny shook and vocalized with unclear but seemingly disapproving vigor. The filly returned to the kitchen where her sister was still washing dishes.
"She said it was okay," reported Apple Bloom, trembling slightly from the disturbing confrontation.
Applejack shut off the water and turned to look her straight in the eye. "She 'said?'"
"Well, she nodded it was okay," clarified Apple Bloom nervously.
Applejack stared into her and she could feel the back of her neck begin to heat up in apprehension. After what seemed like an eternity, AJ finally spoke again.
"Alright then," she grunted, snatching a dish rag from the counter to dry with. "Be careful with it. Go get yer chores done."
That night, after the drudgery of her chores, Apple Bloom stayed up past her bedtime to fiddle with the camera in the light of her lamp. She wanted to familiarize herself with the widgets and dials on the device but so far very few of them made sense. She could focus the lens and identify the big shutter button even though it didn't do anything when she pressed it. She hoped it wasn't broken or something.
She was ejected from her thoughts as her dog, Winona let out a low, meandering growl. Curious, Apple Bloom scooted over to the edge of the bed to look down at Winona. She was still curled into a ball on her pillow bed but also growling at seemingly nothing in particular.
"Shush, Winona," she whispered. The dog looked up at her and immediately ceased. Must have been a dream, thought Apple Bloom.
The filly rolled back to the other side of her bed and set the camera carefully on her nightstand. Then she blew out the lamp and settled in under the covers to watch the thin whisps of smoke as they slithered up to the ceiling in the soft blue glow of her window. As her eyes closed, she could hear Applejack crying softly in her room, a sound she was becoming more used to.
Miss Cheerilee tapped the chalk diagram on the board which showed the simplified inner workings of a camera and cleared her throat. "The shutter opens, allowing the light to enter and expose the film. When you develop the film in the lab, it reveals the images that you shot like a memory of what the film 'saw' at that moment when you let it 'peek' out of the open shutter. Those images are imprinted on the film as what's called a negative. Um…" The teacher silently looked back at her guide, trying to refresh her memory and keep up with the lesson.
Apple Bloom held up her sample negatives to the light and strained her eyes to decipher the tiny strip of scenes between her hooves but they looked so strange.
"If you look at your samples," continued Cheerilee, "you'll notice that the pictures in them look pretty funny. That's because a negative is an opposite of the true image which is the positive. Things that are dark are now light. Things that are light are dark."
"What's the point of making a negative?" shrugged Rumble.
"The negative is what allows you to expose and print the actual photographs of the image on photo sensitive paper. So the positive makes a negative which makes a positive. Isn't that weird?" she giggled.
"Why don't they just have a camera that exposes the paper and makes a photo without having to make a negative at all?" asked Silver Spoon.
"They have those but that's actually the old way we did it. One exposure, one photo. Film gives us lots of exposures in a much smaller package and when you have a negative, you can print as many photos from it whatever size you want. It's pretty innovative over the old way." She glanced at the clock while the foals began to murmur amongst themselves.
"It looks like that's all the time we have for today. Your homework is to get to know your camera and be able to name all the parts on the hoofout I gave you before lab on Friday."
The students got up and gathered their things while Apple Bloom went straight to the teacher's desk.
"Miss Cheerilee? I don't hear the shutter click when Ah press the button. Do ya think it's broken?"
Cheerilee gritted her teeth. "Lens Flare might be better to ask about that sort of thing but I'll look at it."
Apple Bloom slid her camera across the desk to her teacher. Cheerilee depressed the shutter button with her hoof, noting that nothing happened.
"Hm… Oh, you know what. You're supposed to use the advance lever after each press to advance the film and reset the button." She tilted the camera so Apple Bloom could see and then pushed out the little lever till it clicked. She tried the button again, eliciting a gratifying shutter flap. "Even if there's no film in-" she trailed off as her eyes fell on the exposure number which read '20.' "Oh, did you know there's film in here?"
Apple Bloom shook her head. "There is?"
"You've already taken nineteen photos."
"Ah didn't take 'em," she shrugged. "No one's used that camera in years. It used ta be daddy's."
Cheerilee gasped. "Could they be his photos?"
"Ah guess so," nodded Apple Bloom, wide-eyed."
"Let's see," breathed Cheerilee as she began manually winding up the film. Once the counter reached zero, she popped open the back.
Apple Bloom stared as if she were witnessing a magic trick. There were so many secrets in that little box.
The film canister plunked onto the desk. "Well, look at that," laughed Cheerilee. "Four hundred, black and white. I think you can develop that in class. We should have Lens Flare use it for in-class demonstration," she proposed excitedly. "Would you like that?"
"Yeah… Wow. Ah wonder what's in there." She scooped up the canister and tried to imagine as she turned away to the now empty classroom. "Thanks Miss Cheerilee."
"Of course. Take care of that film roll… Oh, um, Apple Bloom?" she called. Are you meeting Big Mac in town now?"
"Uh-huh. Why?"
"Mind if I walk with you? I was going that way too… into town, that is."
Big Mac worked the old toothy bow saw through the last bit of the infected tree trunk. The wood cracked and the tree came down with a rustling crash. He paused with a sigh to wipe the sweat from his brow. Then he set to work on chopping up the trunk. As the saw zipped back and forth, his eyes flicked up to Apple Bloom who was kicking around a rotting apple like a soccer ball.
"C'mon, Apple Bloom," he spat impatiently. "Them branches aren't gonna cut themselves."
Apple Bloom sighed in despair and picked up her much smaller saw. She placed the teeth on the first spot she could find and began reciprocating.
"It's slowin' down," mused Big Mac. "Ah think we're finally gettin' ahead of the spread. Gotta keep our eyes open but Ah hope this is the last one we gotta put down."
"What are we gonna do with all these dead trees?" asked Apple Bloom, stepping back from her branch as it snapped off under its own weight.
"We'll sell 'em as firewood. Wood's just another crop we sell now."
"This is so hard," she cried as her strokes got slower and slower.
"Applejack could help me instead an' you could watch Granny at the house," suggested Big Mac facetiously.
Apple Bloom shook her head vehemently and began sawing with renewed energy.
The stress of the unfortunate situation the family had been tossed into revealed much about the Apple siblings that the three previously hadn't seen in each other. While Apple Bloom viewed the others as having a more caustic demeanor now, Applejack was still honest but more evasive about her true feelings, almost like denial. Big Mac, who usually kept his thoughts to himself was now more willing to voice uncomfortable truths that Applejack wouldn't, even if it was usually indirectly.
Monday, Wednesday and Friday were the days there was photography class after school. Apple Bloom had gotten a brand new roll of film from Cheerilee and had just two days to fill it up before their first Friday lab. With the camera strapped around her neck, she made her way around the farm, taking pictures of anything that struck her fancy as she did her chores. She was wary to keep the device out of sight whenever she walked by Granny who sat veggitating on the porch. It wasn't too difficult with her awareness and mobility being shadows of their former selves.
Apple Bloom gazed through the viewfinder, trying to frame an upshot of the farm's rickety windmill against the sky. She heard a whisper in her ear and started at the sound. She pulled the camera away and looked all around her but there was no one there. Was that the wind, she wondered, rubbing her ears. It didn't sound like it but what else would it be?
She snapped the photo looking up at the windmill with a lens flare glaring across a sky of textured clouds as the whispers returned. They stopped when she looked up from the camera and once again she found nothing and no one in sight.
When her chores were finished and she had about eight frames left on her roll, Apple Bloom returned to the attic to look around for more camera stuff. Now having a working knowledge of the hobby, she was able to recognize a tripod and a shutter release bulb amongst the clutter, both important tools for taking long exposure photos. She helped herself to the equipment and stowed it in her bedroom closet.
Suddenly realizing how late it was getting, Apple Bloom went to investigate the kitchen only to find an unusual lack of activity for that time of the day. She was always eager for dinner. Not only was she usually hungry by now, it was also the only meal anymore that had taste and variety.
Granny sat alone at the table, doing nothing in particular as usual. The filly anxiously backed out of the room and called for her sister. She wandered back up the stairs. The sound of muffled retching met her ears at the landing.
Apple Bloom pushed Applejack's door open. She found her sitting on the floor of the bathroom, heaving with her head over the toilet.
"Applejack? Are ya sick?" she asked worriedly.
"Yeah," panted Applejack weakly before spitting into the bowl.
A weird thought came to Apple Bloom to take a picture of her sister throwing up in the toilet even though she didn't have her camera with her. She frowned, wondering why such a thing would cross her mind. That's gross and AJ would probably get angry at me, she thought. "It's supper time," she blurted, trying to distract herself from the idea.
"What?" groaned Applejack. "What time is it?
"Almost eight."
"Aw, shoot. Ah'm sorry." She flushed the toilet but continued sitting dazedly on the floor, hunched forward, breathing heavily. It was clear she was struggling to muster the strength to get up or maybe she was unsure how safe it was to leave the bathroom.
"Ah can just find somethin' er tell Big-"
"No, Ah'll be there in just a minute," replied Applejack, grimacing as she stood.
The day before lab, Rumble and Apple Bloom were both looking to finish off their rolls somewhere more interesting than their houses. The Cutie Mark Crusaders concurred that a trip to the old quarry would be perfect.
Scootaloo hurled a stone over the side of the massive pit and the four foals watched it plummet for a good three seconds before it hit the mirror like water below with the tiniest, most distant plunk.
"You know there's a ton of bodies down there," mused Rumble, advancing his film to the next frame. He'd caught a high speed action still of the throw.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "There is not."
"Define 'a ton,'" asked Apple Bloom, intrigued.
"No, it's true," he continued. "This place is permanently abandoned, it's never gonna drain and it's hard to get down there and check things out. It's a great spot to dump dead bodies. The mafia does that kind of stuff all the time. They put cement blocks around your hooves and then toss you in the water. You sink down and never come back up again, even when your body bloats and fills with gas."
Sweetie Belle grimaced in disgust. "Eew."
"There's no Mafia out here," scoffed Scootaloo. "That kind of stuff only happens in the big city."
Rumble cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe. But there've been serial killers in this area."
Sweetie Belle's eyes grew huge. "There have?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Well not like recently but there's a lot of victims they never found and ponies still go missing all the time. My brother knew one of the girls who disappeared before they caught the Westend Killer. They found her hair and a bunch of other souvenirs from other missing ponies in his apartment but he never told where the bodies were."
"That still doesn't mean she or any other bodies are down there," argued Scootaloo stubbornly.
Sweetie Belle, cautiously crawled on her barrel across the ground and rested her chin on the cliff edge to peer straight down the rock face to the deep, placid water. "There's totally bodies down there," she rebutted adamantly.
"And you will join them," snarled Scootaloo, pouncing on Sweetie's back and tickling her sides. Sweetie's scream echoed across the immense crater.
Apple Bloom snapped a picture of their tussle. Then she looked down over the cliff side too with her camera. The height gave her a vertigo spell and she wobbly shrank back from the edge.
"That was scary," cried Sweetie Belle, stumbling to her hooves, dirt now staining her white coat. "I literally almost died."
"You couldn't even move with me pinning you down," laughed Scootaloo.
Apple Bloom framed them in the viewfinder but then scanned over to Rumble in the background to see that he was doing the same thing as her, almost like a mirror reflection. She heard strange whispering again that could only be coming from inside her head. The two looked up from behind their cameras and their eyes met. Rumble smiled weakly back at her and then looked down, pretending to adjust his shutter speed.
Friday was finally here. Lens Flare was going to come back today and Apple Bloom would finally get to develop her film.
The filly yawned and stepped out of her room only to have her ears assaulted by a heated argument sparking between her siblings. She couldn't hear anything being said until the apparent end of it once she reached the middle of the stairs.
"You deal with it yer way, Ah'll deal with it mine," growled Big Mac.
Apple Bloom got to the bottom step just in time to see her brother storm out of the kitchen and then the front door, slamming it shut with a hind leg.
"What was that about?" asked Apple Bloom as she sat in front of her grits.
"Never you mind," muttered Applejack shakily.
Apple Bloom uncomfortably scooped a few spoonfuls of the mush into her mouth while her sister covered her face with her hat, trying to gather herself. She came down too early. She'd have to eat very slow in order to run out the clock on her breakfast.
"Ya don't finish that bowl, it'll be waitin fer ya when ya come home," grumbled Applejack as if reading her mind. "Ah ain't cookin' fer the pigs, hear me?"
"O-okay," replied Apple Bloom weakly.
Regular class took forever and it was impossible for Apple Bloom to think about anything but photographs. When the non photographers left and Lens made his appearance, Cheerilee brought up the subject of Apple Bloom's old film.
"Here," said Apple Bloom, holding up the roll of film to him. "Ah found this in mah camera; it's been in there fer years."
"How interesting," smirked Lens, taking the film. "It's like opening a little time capsule. I love that. This film is no doubt expired, so the images will likely be muddy or grainy but they'll be fascinating to explore."
"Ah'm pretty sure those're the last pictures daddy ever took," added Apple Bloom.
"I'll be extra careful with them," he promised sincerely. "I can't use it to show you what we do first though because that has to be done completely in the dark. Remember, class, once you get your film out of the little roll, exposing it to any light, including the magical variety, will ruin it. You have to do this part all by feel in a pitch black closet or with your hooves in a black bag. Obviously that makes it a little difficult to actually demonstrate what to do, so I brought this already ruined film just to show you."
The students watched as the photographer expertly coiled the strip of film around a spool and placed it in a sealed cannister. He held it up before the group triumphantly. "Now, once you get it in here, it's safe to open up the closet door and come out with it. Then what happens is we pour developer solution in the top of the container, wait a few minutes, rinse it out and you've got a roll of developed negatives. Everyone get it? Let's have everypony do a couple of dry runs before doing it blind in the dark."
The students fumbled around with their practice film snaking off of their reels and falling to the floor. The photographer gave them a few minutes before addressing them again.
"Alright, who wants to go first?"
"I do," blurted Rumble, raising his hoof exuberantly. He went into the closet with his roll of film. He struggled a bit but returned a few minutes later with his film prepped for development. The rest of the students processed through and then Lens prepped Apple Bloom's found film. He then used it as the example for the rest of the development process while Apple Bloom tended to the roll she took. She was on pins and needles as she watched the timer and waited. Finally it was finished and the class began fishing out their developed negatives to much audible elation.
Apple Bloom examined the found roll first. She couldn't make sense of the unruly curlycue strip of images so she cut it into smaller strips and placed them in protective sleeves like Lens Flare had suggested. She set them on a light table and pushed a little puck-shaped desk magnifier over them, scrolling slowly through the frames.
It didn't take long for her to find that the images were not anything like what she'd expected. They weren't old family photos or pictures from a trip. In fact nearly every image seemed unique and unrelated to the rest as if they were all taken randomly at any given time or place when inspiration struck. Some of them lacked any clear subject at all and there was an ethereal fogginess to them thanks to the age of the film.
One picture looked like a closeup of the inside of somepony's mouth. Another depicted an unidentifiable pony laying in the dirt, facing away from the camera. One showed hair clippings scattered across a tile floor or counter space. Apple Bloom frowned in confusion as she saw what looked like a partially decomposed bird skeleton sitting in dark, fetid-looking water. There was one just of an empty corner of a room. There was one of a rotting bushel of Apples with flies swarming around it.
She felt a pang of familiarity, seeing a shot looking down the upstairs hallway of the farmhouse. Apple Bloom squinted her eyes at the frame. Although it was difficult to see, far away at the end of the hall there looked to be a blurry, roughly pony shaped figure staring back at the camera. In the negative it was ghostly white with pinpoint black dots for eyes. She wasn't quite sure if it was actually someone or just damage to the film combined with some other element.
The last three photos on the roll were the only ones with clear relation. It looked like a stallion and mare on a park bench, kissing passionately. She couldn't recognize either of the ponies and it made her wonder why the photo was taken. Did daddy really take all these, wondered Apple Bloom.
As she examined the next frame, she saw the stallion kissing his partner's neck. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was open in sensual ecstasy. The expression was titillating in a way Apple Bloom had never experienced and it shocked her. It was all she could do to tear her eyes away to the next image where the stallion's hoof had found its way between the mare's legs. He was still kissing her neck. The viewpoint angle was strangely skewed. The subjects didn't appear to be aware they were being photographed and that made it all the more obscene and somehow indescribably thrilling.
Who were these ponies? Did daddy even know them? Why take these pictures? Why couldn't she stop looking at them? She wasn't exactly sure what was happening in the image but she knew the scene wasn't meant for her and she shouldn't be looking at it and therein was the captivating magic of the sight.
"Did you find anything interesting?" asked Cheerilee, abruptly appearing at the filly's side.
Apple Bloom winced in surprise. "Uh, not… really?" She scooted the magnifier over something less salacious. "Ah mean, it is interestin' in it's own way but not exactly what Ah was hopin' fer."
"Oh, I'm sorry but I can't wait to see the photos that you took."
"Oh, yeah, Ah guess Ah should look at those too," she replied.
That night, Apple Bloom laid on her bed, holding a little cardboard frame she made up to the light of her lamp. She looked through the square cutout as she reviewed every single negative again. She'd have to wait a whole other week before they learned how to print photos in the dark room, so she'd be stuck fantasizing about which pictures she'd want to make.
Her opinion of the weird and grotesque images on the found roll had softened the more she looked at them. She decided, in fact, that some of them were actually quite good. There were even images on the roll that she wanted to print… but without anyone seeing. Apple Bloom framed the last negative in the square and stared into the unknown mare's face. She could almost hear soft moans emanating from her agape mouth.
Apple Bloom was snapped out of her weird reverie when she heard Winona growling. She set the negatives down and peered over the side of the bed at her dog. She wasn't sleeping. She was standing and the fur on her back was sticking up. Apple Bloom looked where Winona seemed to be looking, then all around the floor but she saw nothing.
"What is it, girl? 'nother rat?" She continued looking around the room until the growling subsided and Winona laid back down in her nest. Apple Bloom blew out the light and listened for tiny scratches or scurrying in the silent dark while visions of the mare's face wove through her mind.
Apple Bloom checked the built-in light meter on Sweetie Belle's porcelain coat and then knocked the shutter speed up to one-five-hundredths of a second.
"Alright, go," she commanded, keeping her eye to the camera.
Sweetie Belle let out a war cry and launched into a full speed gallop, thundering across the boards of the old boat dock. Right at the end, she leapt through the air as far as she could. Apple Bloom took the photo of her stretched out in flight just before plummeting into the pond with a big splash.
Sweetie giggled when she surfaced and flung her wet mane out of her eyes. "Did you get it?"
"Sure did. Ah hope it's in focus though."
The two were without Scootaloo for the afternoon. She was off with Rumble, either at Sugar Cube Corner or making out in the woods behind the school. Sweetie and Apple Bloom never really talked about their relationship but things were noticeably lacking when Scootaloo skipped out on them. Even though the dynamic was different when Rumble tagged along with the Crusaders, they still much preferred it to being without them or even having a mentally aloof Scootaloo thinking about her coltfriend every five minutes.
Apple Bloom slunk up as close as she could to a pair of ducks resting on the shoreline to capture a photo of them eyeing her suspiciously.
"C'mon," chided Sweetie Belle, bobbing up and down frustratedly. "Put the camera down and get in."
"Uh, okay." Apple Bloom approached her lifeguard brother who laid sleepily under a big tree, perfectly content with just doing nothing for a while.
"Watch mah camera, Big Mac."
"Eeyup," he mumbled absently.
She set the device down carefully on a tuft of grass and then ran down the dock to cannonball next to Sweetie Belle.
~~~
"I'm a duck," proclaimed Sweetie Belle before burying her face in the popcorn bowl. She lifted her head and with a blank expression on her face began frantically chattering her teeth like a duck bill, sending popcorn crumbs flying to the clubhouse floor.
"Yer makin' a mess," groaned Apple Bloom. Then she snapped a picture of Sweetie Belle's ridiculous face, blinding her with the flash.
"Wait," mumbled Sweetie, before cramming more popcorn in her mouth. She stretched out on her side atop her sleeping bag, propping her head up with one hoof. "Photo me like one of your kirin girls.” She ran a hoof down her own frame and made her best attempt at a sultry expression with cheeks bulging and popcorn cascading from her open mouth.
Apple Bloom chortled at the juxtaposition of serious and ludicrous.
"I think it's called 'photograph,' snorted Scootaloo in amusement.
"I know," coughed Sweetie, struggling to swallow the popcorn.
"Is that class actually fun?" asked Scootaloo.
"Photography? Yeah. You shoulda tried it. Doesn't Rumble like it?"
"Yeah, he does. I'm not really artistic though and I don’t have a camera."
"Looks too complicated for me," added Sweetie Belle, staring at the, meaningless to her, alphanumeric mishmash of dials at Apple Bloom’s hooves.
"I'm getting sleepy," yawned Scootaloo, settling into her sleeping bag. "Who has a new ghost story?"
"I do," blurted Sweetie Belle excitedly. "They say there's this old wishing well out in the Everfree-"
"I said a new ghost story," grumbled Scootaloo. "Apple Bloom?" she enquired hopefully.
"Ah know one," she replied, puting her camera down. "Have y'all ever heard the story of the Half Foal?"
The other two shook their heads with breathless anticipation.
"This happened a long time ago, well, before we were born, anyway. There used to be a mare that lived in Ponyville named Sunshine Daisy. Her life was ordinary. She would always go into the Everfree Forest to pick rare flowers and then sell them in the market. One mornin' she woke up after pickin' flowers the day before and started feelin' sick. She had sharp pains in her belly that wouldn't go away."
"Eventually she went to the hospital. They did all these tests on her and found out she was pregnant. She had no idea. Sunshine wasn't married or even in a relationship."
"You can have a foal without being married," interjected Scootaloo.
"Yeah, Ah… Ah know," stammered Apple Bloom.
"Wait, you can?" asked Sweetie Belle.
The other two looked at her.
"Yeah, that's what my parents did," Scootaloo replied.
"Anyway," grunted Apple Bloom, "if she knew who or what was the father, she never told anypony. The baby inside her grew real fast and painful-like in a way no one had ever seen. The doctor looked at pictures of it but couldn't say if it was a boy, a girl or even a pony at all."
Scootaloo and Sweetie looked at each other in slack jawed amazement.
When it was time for the baby to come, Sunshine went to the hospital. When she was givin' birth, ponies said they heard her screams from the other side a Ponyville. When the hospital workers finally saw the baby, they were struck dumb with shock. The new foal wasn't a pony, at least not completely. It was half pony and half… somethin' else. What do ya even say ta someone when their baby looks like that?"
"Well, what did it look like?" spat Scootaloo in alarm.
"Ah'll get to that part. The nurse swaddled the newborn Half Foal as best she could and tried to hoof it ta Sunshine but she took one look at it and let out a scream, scooting far away on the bed. 'No,' she cried, shaking her head. 'Ah don't want it! Ah don't want it!' The baby made a terrible shriek at her rejection. The hospital ponies didn't know what to do. Nothin' like this had ever happened before. They put the Half Foal in the nursery with the rest of the babies, tryin’ ta get the both of 'em to calm down."
"Sweetie Belle's eyes widened in terror. "No."
"They left Sunshine in her room but when no one was lookin', she ran from the hospital. No one ever heard from Sunshine again. After some time, the nurse came back to the nursery. No one really knows what happened in that nursery but when the alarm was finally sounded, they had a room fulla screamin' babies and a dead nurse with a missin' face."
"Holy crap," whispered Scootaloo.
"Workers searched the room when they found two empty cribs. They quickly found the Half Foal dragging a crying baby into the corner. It dropped the foal when they approached and scuttled up the wall, into a vent. That's how it got out."
"Then what happened?" whimpered Sweetie Belle, scrunching down into her sleeping bag.
"It got away. It's still out there somewhere but bigger now. Some ponies who have seen the grown Half Foal say it kind of resembles a bat pony but real wrong. Its' limbs are lanky like a spider's. It's pale and looks sickly and boney with glassy eyes that don't even seem to see at all. Its twisted webbed wings don't work right so it crawls up trees or on the ground with its hook-like hooves. Others who've seen it, reported that it bears features of a dragon or even a manticore. Though the descriptions vary, everyone who sees it agrees that the Half Foal is an unnatural abomination and shouldn't be."
"It stalks through the woods and sometimes comes into town on cool nights like this. Sometimes you can hear it cryin' as it wanders, searchin' fer its parents, but more specifically, the mother who rejected it. It hates mares more than anythin' but it also steals unattended foals; they say it's outta jealousy fer havin' a mother."
"Is that story real?" asked Sweetie Belle, now almost completely hidden within her sleeping bag.
"Ah guess," shrugged Apple Bloom.
"That story was messed up. Where did you hear it?" asked Scootaloo.
The question was simple but Apple Bloom was completely flummoxed. She didn't remember hearing it from anyone else. She didn't make it up herself, either previously or in the moment. It just suddenly appeared in her mind like she'd found a story book on a shelf and started reading. She screwed up her face in bewilderment. "Ah… Ah don't know."
In the late afternoon on Monday, Apple Bloom finished loading her cart with wood from a dead apple tree in the orchard. Big Mac had already split it into economical pieces ready for loading in a stove or fireplace. The two of them decided it was her job to move and stack the logs best she could for sale. They already had about eight cords rounded up behind the barn. Two of them were moved completely by her, about one a week at twenty pieces per trip.
The cart wheels squeaked and shimmied on the lumpy soil as she plodded along with the camera swaying from her neck. She was about half way back when she noticed something strange laying on the ground in her path. When she got closer, she realized that it was a rather deflated-looking dead squirrel. She pulled to a stop right in front of it.
"Uh-oh, little squirrel. What happened to ya?" she mumbled flippantly. She looked down and became immediately captivated by the spot where one of the eyes of the creature used to be. It was now just an open socket stuffed with wriggling maggots.
Apple Bloom didn't quite understand how but the sight struck her as awe inspiring. She unhitched herself from the wagon for a closer look. Something about death being a springboard for new life was indescribably beautiful. She breathlessly snapped a closeup photo of the larval eruption and then noticed the rest of the body. The whole side of the squirrel was undulating strangely. She stared, mesmerized by the phenomenon. Beneath the flesh was a hidden sea of writhing fly larvae. The movement was naturally soothing to her like a heart beating or waves on the ocean. Apple Bloom couldn't look away. She glued the viewfinder to her eye and began snapping photo after photo until the roll was full.
Apple Bloom sat on her bed in the light of her lamp, shuffling through her little box of negatives. She paused on each image, gestating like an art critic in front of a new painting. Seeing each photo, even just as a negative, gave her a hit of dopamine followed by a mental escape into a fantastical reverie. She couldn't wait to start printing photos. She'd decorate her whole room with them. Well, some of them she should probably just keep in the box for her own eyes.
Her fantasies were broken up by Winona growling on the floor again. "Winona, shush," she commanded but instead, her dog broke into a barking fit.
Apple Bloom rolled to the side of the bed to look down at her dog. "Winona!" She was still barking. She followed her gaze to the corner of the room near the door. Inexplicably, Winona was adamant that there was something there. Apple Bloom snatched the flash from her bedside stand and attached it to her camera. She looked through the viewfinder at the corner and focused the best she could in the dim light. Then she pressed the shutter button.
In the split second that the harsh light illuminated the room, Apple Bloom saw a shadow, the clear dark outline of a pony that wasn't there cast on the wall by the door. She gasped as chills ran down her spine. She hid under the covers clutching her camera. Winona's Barking subsided into a growl and then a whine, giving the filly little comfort.
Apple Bloom shivered under her quilt, wanting to scream for her siblings to come make sure it was gone but she was too afraid to move or make a sound at all. She simply laid there paralyzed in silence for hours until sleep finally overcame her and the oil lamp burned out.
Apple Bloom wobbled sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen. She wasn't sure how much sleep she got but it was definitely not enough. She slumped in front of the same bowl of weekday morning grits and sighed mournfully.
"Applejack, there was somethin' in mah room last night," moaned the filly without touching her food.
"Rats again?" wondered Applejack aloud, setting a stack of clean dishes in the cupboard.
"No, it was… a shadow that looked like a pony. It was like a ghost er somethin'. Ah only saw it fer a second but it was there and it scared me somethin' awful."
"Everythin' looks weird in the dark, sugar cube," offered her sister without turning around.
Apple Bloom's forehead creased in frustration. "But there wasn't…" She paused, mulling over how to explain what she saw in a way that couldn't be so easily dismissed as a product of her imagination. "Well, Winona was barkin' at it," she argued. Just then she heard a collar jingle and her eyes went to the doorway where her pet entered the room. It gave her an idea. Apple Bloom patted her flank to beckon the dog over.
"Oh, Ah guess Ah did hear her barkin' last night."
"Yeah. She thought there was somethin' there and Ah saw it."
Apple Bloom quickly sloshed half of her bowl of grits on the floor where Winona happily began lapping it up.
"Well did the shadow do anythin'?"
"No," she replied, continuing to spoon dollops of grits over the side of the table to the awaiting dog.
"Well then it's either just a shadow or a friendly ghost…"
Apple Bloom stopped abruptly as her sister turned around and smiled at her near empty bowl.
"Grits taste better this mornin'? Ah added butter fer ya. Can't do it every day but it's a nice suprise sometimes."
"Oh, uh yeah, Ah noticed. Thanks, Applejack." She smiled nervously as her older sister patted her on the head.
In the blood red glow of a safe light, six foals crowded around one of the dark room enlargers. Lens Flare teased the knob until Silver Spoon's photo of a domino game was in sharp focus at a four by six size.
"Now when you're exposing your photos, it's important not to bump the enlarger or obstruct the projection." Lens waved a hoof through the light beam, casting a shadow over the image. "You could end up with a blurry or underexposed photo. So once you get your image cropped and focused how you want it, you shut off the light." He switched off the enlarger and opened a light proof box sitting on the table to pull out a pre sized sheet of paper.
"Always keep the papers in the closed box and only ever take out one at a time for now. So you slide your sheet in like this…" Lens squared the photo paper on the table. "The correct exposure time for this paper is five seconds so you watch the timer..." He pointed to a weird clock face on the wall that had but a single hand and went to sixty seconds.
Lens flipped the switch just as the hand hit the twenty second mark and the projection of Silver's negative came back on, shining over the photo paper. Just moments later he switched it off when the timer said twenty-five. "Now for the best part," he declared. The photographer slipped the paper off of the table and whisked it over to a tray of clear liquid. "You take your exposed paper to the developer and drop it in."
He dropped the exposure into the liquid and agitated the tray till it sank below the surface. The students gathered around, watching closely as black and gray fields began to grow on the paper and the image materialized. The dark room filled with excited murmuring as Lens dunked the photo in the fixer with tongs in his mouth and then rinsed it off. Silver Spoon grinned at the completed image.
"And there you go." He turned the enlarger back on and placed the print next to the projection of the negative. "See how they're opposites and the darker something is in the negative, the lighter it is in the positive and vice versa?"
Eager to finally see their photos, the students fumbled their way through the process, taking turns on three enlargers and cycling through the trough of chemicals until everyone had a collection of at least half a dozen prints which they were all very enamoured with.
Apple Bloom enlarged a projection of the picture of the hallway in her house, trying to examine the strange figure in the distance. If it was somepony, she didn't recognize them. They almost looked ethereal or ghost-like in the negative.
"What's that?" asked Rumble, appearing at her side.
"Ah dunno," she mumbled absently. "It's a picture Ah found."
"Is that a pony? Looks kinda creepy."
"Dunno. Maybe it's someone in a costume er somethin'. Hard to tell." Her thoughts returned to the shadow on her bedroom wall and Winona's barking at an unseen presence. "Maybe it'll make more sense if Ah print it," she mused, turning to him. She mentally stumbled in surprise when she realized how close his face was to hers.
Rumble smiled awkwardly and left to take a turn on an unoccupied enlarger. Apple Bloom sighed and set to work cropping the supposed figure about as large as she could make it within the standard 4x6 frame. Then she staged the paper.
The image she pulled from the developer bath was grainy and muddy but the strange apparition didn't look like it could be explained simply by age damage to the film. The shape was a wispy black thing with a muddled outline but she could see what looked like a pony muzzle, ears and two glowing points of light that reminded her of the glowing eyes of a cat in the dark. Apple Bloom finished processing the picture and set it on her stack, unsure what to think about it.
There was enough time to make one more print and Apple Bloom knew the one she needed. She focused the projection of a weird but inoffensive image as if she were planning to expose it. She looked over both shoulders to make sure everyone else was busy before tugging the little strip of negatives until the image of the mare on the bench was squared in the enlarger. She turned it off, swallowed and prepped the paper. One more glance over her withers and she flipped the switch, biting her lip and crowding in close as the image burned into the paper. It was so big; well, it was normal photo size but she'd never viewed the lurid picture in such detail before. It was the longest five seconds of her life.
Apple Bloom flipped the switch again and breathed a sigh of relief when the lovers vanished. She tossed the print in the developer upsidedown and nervously jiggled the tray as she watched the timer. She didn't flip it over once to look between fixer, rinse and hiding it in the bottom of her stack.
At the end of class, everyone sat back in their lecture seats while Lens gave each of them a new roll of film. "Alright," he said. "Next week you're all going to be shooting a series of portraits. There are six of you, so everyone grab a partner for the assignment right now."
Apple Bloom felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Rumble.
"Hey, wanna be my partner?" he asked.
Her heart fluttered with repressed affinity for the colt. She couldn't believe Rumble wanted to be with her. Then again, he wasn't really friends with anyone else in the photography class so who else would he pick?
"Yeah, okay," she nodded dumbly.
After seeing that everyone had paired up, Lens spoke again. "We're out of time today but Miss Cheerilee is going to fill you in on all the details of how to light your subject, pose your subject and how to get them to smile… or cry," he shrugged. "If that's the direction you want to go."
"Apple Bloom," bellowed Applejack from the entryway. "Ya got a little suiter come callin'.
Apple Bloom's galloping hooffalls clattered to the upstairs landing where she peered down through the balusters. Rumble stood patiently in the open doorway, a camera hanging from his neck.
"Applejack," she hissed loudly enough for the both of them to hear. "That's Scootaloo's coltfriend!"
"Ah know," smirked Applejack, turning into the kitchen.
"I told her to say that," he snorted with a hoof over his mouth. "Well, not in those words exactly."
Apple Bloom hurried down the stairs to meet him but was confused when she saw no one else outside.
"Ready for the shoot?" he asked.
"Yeah." She stuck her head out the door and looked around on the porch. "Wait, where's Scootaloo?"
"She's sick. Remember? That's why she wasn't in school today."
"Oh, yeah," she mumbled, furrowing her brow. Was this okay, she wondered. Doing something alone with someone else's coltfriend seemed odd but it was for a school assignment and it wasn't like Scootaloo didn't know what they were doing.
"Hang on. Ah'll be right out." She turned back into the house. "Ah'm gonna go do mah photography assignment now, she yelled before thundering back up the stairs.
"Be back before dinner," grunted Applejack.
Apple Bloom promptly reappeared at the door with her camera and joined Rumble outside where they started off down the drive.
"So what was the place you were talkin' 'bout again?"
"Old sanitorium on the edge of town," replied Rumble with a gleam in his eye. "It's a lot closer to you than me."
"That sounds cool," she nodded.
The two wandered down the dirt path and into the woods along a seldom traveled road that was well on its way to being retaken by nature. Rumble hummed to himself, sometimes muttering song lyrics.
"Burn it up. Then run away. Fire is the way to play." They passed an old road sign that was cracked with peeling paint and now illegible. "It's the only thing out here I think," mused Rumble. "That's why the road's so bad. No reason to come out here since the place has been shuttered for decades."
They came to a large faded sign, covered with graffiti and marking the spot where the road changed to weed riddled cobblestone and beyond that stood the facility itself. They stopped at a chain link fence which wrapped around the property with a clear 'No trespassing' sign every few feet.
Apple Bloom looked up at the closest sign and then back at Rumble with a knowing smirk.
"Don't worry," he said. "No one comes out here at this time of day… I don't think."
"You been in here before?" she asked.
"Once. I didn't get to stay long though. This is a good excuse for a revisit."
Her eyes ran the length of the fence. "Well how do ya get in?"
Just fly over the fence," he replied, fluttering his wings.
Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. "And fer the flyin' impaired?"
"There's a hole. C'mon." He turned and lead her along the fence to a little gap just big enough for a foal their size to squeeze through.
They crossed the grounds of the facility's main entry. Looking at the plants and remnants of brickwork planters, it was easy to imagine it as an immaculately kept space once upon a time. Now the little square shaped gravel path beneath their hooves had lost its fidelity and was overrun with weeds and breached by tree roots. The bushes and flowers that had survived neglect now overflowed from their planters.
The building was two stories with a dome and a big covered porch in the front where patients used to sit in wheelchairs, Apple Bloom surmised. Granny should be at a place like this, she thought. But even if they could afford it, Applejack probably wouldn't hear of it, even drowning in the added stress and inconvenience of having Granny at the house.
"Photo op," blurted Rumble, scampering over to an old bench being strangled by vines.
"Hold on," she protested. "The pony takin' the picture is s'posed ta direct."
"Oh, that's right," he grumbled. "Well then, direct me."
"Well first, get yer camera outta the shot."
"Oh yeah. That would look stupid." The colt lurched to his hooves and quickly ditched his camera.
"Just sittin' on a bench is too obvious. Why don't ya lay on it face up."
Rumble shrugged and laid down amongst gnarled and naked vines.
Apple Bloom hopped up on a boulder that sat right next to where Rumble rested his head and she pointed the lens down at him. The old vines surrounding him gave her composition an intriguing texture.
"Ah got it," she exclaimed, wobbling up high on her hind legs, trying to pull back enough distance to fit all of him in the frame. Before zooming the lens out, she landed on his face, then followed his barrel down to his nethers and before she knew what she was doing, she snapped a photo.
"Whoops," she laughed nervously. "That one's an outtake."
Ya just took a picture of his crotch, Apple Bloom. Maybe try ta just focus on the assignment. She wound the film forward and swallowed, trying to compose the shot again but instead continued leering at Rumble's sheath through the viewfinder. Don't take another picture, she thought to herself. Don't take another picture. She pulled her hoof off the shutter button, imagining Scootaloo glaring daggers at her. But Ah want to.
"Uh… So what am I doing?" asked Rumble, confusedly.
"Oh, yeah," she replied, clearly her throat. "How about hind legs crossed, left hoof behind yer head, right hoof stretched out toward the camera and smile a little."
"Wow. I never would have thought of something like that. You're like, really good at this." He reached up to her with one hoof and, with a little less distraction, she finally took the picture.
They continued to the porch and Rumble pushed open the front door with a squeal. Stale air filled their nostrils as they entered a spacious foyer. They strode across a big pentagram painted on the worn wooden floor. Apple Bloom's brain vibrated in rapture at all the glorious ruin surrounding her that she'd suddenly developed a taste for. It was always surface level interesting to her but now it felt like seeing a good friend that she never wanted to leave.
"Know what this is called?" asked Rumble seemingly unable to turn off his smile.
"What?" she asked, unsure of what he was actually referring to.
"Urbex."
"Huh?"
"That's what Lens Flare told me. Urban exploration. It's when you explore abandoned places like this."
In the commons area, Rumble got Apple Bloom sitting backwards in a chair that they staged in a beam of light shining down at a slant from a hole in the rotunda ceiling.
"Put your forelegs over the backrest," ordered Rumble, adjusting his aperture to help make the most of the heavenly aura the light was giving her.
The filly slumped forward and dangled her legs over the rest.
"No. Up higher and crossed," he corrected.
She crossed her forelegs and paused, trying to decipher the full meaning in his vague instructions.
Rumble let his camera down to hang on his neck. "I'll just show you."
With little warning, he grabbed her hoof in his and she felt chills as her heart began to pound in her throat. He gingerly laid her foreleg down to hug the curvature of the top of the backrest. Then he took her other hoof and paused to think before laying it atop the other just so. He grabbed her head and tilted it softly till her cheek rested on her topmost foreleg. He was so gentle and slow… suspiciously slow.
"Wow. This is a really beautiful… picture of you," he declared before snapping the shutter.
After that, Apple Bloom took photos of Rumble posing valiantly in the gap of a broken railing above her. His wings were splayed out and he was backlit by dingy broken window panes. After the shot, he fluttered down beside her.
"It was a good idea to shoot here," said Apple Bloom, advancing her film. "We're gonna have the best portraits in class."
They ventured into a large kitchen. It was empty except for the ovens. The once white tiles which lined the whole room were now grimey and chipped. Many were missing, having shattered or fallen out, probably from vandalism.
"Oh, this is a good spot," gasped Apple Bloom. "Go get on the wall."
Rumble smiled and set his camera down.
"Okay, how 'bout a cool guy pose?" she suggested. "Stand against the wall on two legs."
The colt backed up to the tile and continued walking up it with his hind legs until he was doing a foreleg stand. "Like this? "he asked, smirking up at her.
"No," she laughed. "You know what Ah meant." She quickly snapped a picture of his tomfoolery before he gracelessly let himself slide back to the floor and stood up the correct way.
"Okay… Take two steps away from the corner."
Rumble shimmied to his left and rested his back against the wall.
"Now cross yer forelegs and look away from the camera. Look down and to the right. And definitely don't smile," she added, taking a light reading on his face.
He adopted a sullen, brooding pose.
"That's perfect."
"This is for my album cover," he grumbled in put on gruffness.
"What instrument do ya play?"
"Pan flute... Bass pan flute."
Apple Bloom snorted and took a picture with flash, the would be hotspots dulled by the dirty tiles. She took four more from varying angles.
"Ah think that's good," declared Apple Bloom, putting her lens cap back on.
"Okay, my turn," said Rumble, dropping to all fours. "Go to the corner."
Apple Bloom set her camera down. She approached the corner, fallen tiles clattering under her hooves.
Rumble tapped his chin. "Let's see. Sit on your haunches with your back in the corner. Tilt your head back and look down your muzzle at the camera like it just told you to fly over the fence."
Apple Bloom snuggled into the corner, intending to look relaxed but exuding a conceited air. She was watching Rumble stretch out flat on the floor to frame a low angle shot when inspiration suddenly hit her.
Ah know what this portrait needs, she thought. She shifted on the broken tiles beneath her, spreading her hind legs wide apart and tucking her forelegs into her barrel, all but framing her nether region for Rumble.
"Like this?"
Rumble's red face popped up from behind the camera at seeing the overtly provocative display and his partner's half-lidded come hither expression on top of it.
"Um…Uh, close," he coughed, trying to look away from the inviting eyeful but failing. "Try- try sitting more… naturally."
Just as quickly as the brazen thought came over Apple Bloom, her inner voice dumped cold water on it. Her face heated up in embarrassment and she quickly adopted a more closed, modest pose.
Somewhere at the crossroads or artistic vision and wanting to impress Rumble, things went very wrong. What was Ah thinkin'? Ah can't let him take a picture of me like that fer a whole lotta reasons. Ah hope he thinks it was an accident.
Since starting her photographic journey, her imagination was now suddenly reeling with creative ideas and they all seemed like perfection from conception but sometimes when she ran them by again just moments later, they struck her as foreign and obscene. And sometimes what started out as foreign and obscene to her, inexplicably became a comforting obsession.
"That's good," nodded Rumble, relieved that he didn't have to get specific about what was wrong with the previous pose. He snapped a few photos and they continued exploring.
"I think I only have one picture left," said Rumble looking down at his camera.
"Me too," replied Apple Bloom.
"I know," he began, framing her in his viewfinder. "You take a picture of me taking a picture of you taking a picture of me taking a picture of you."
"That's a good idea," laughed Apple Bloom.
The two focused their cameras on one another.
"On three," said Apple Bloom. One… Two… Three." Their shutters clicked in the mutual yet strangely parallel photographs. They sat down across from each other and began winding up their rolls.
Apple Bloom looked up at Rumble, risking eye contact and another silent spark with him. Another exhilarating but uncomfortable moment that would be all but impossible to dismiss and play off as innocent awkwardness. She deftly avoided his gaze as he looked up at her. She couldn't ignore it any longer. She liked him the same way that Scootaloo liked him. She didn't know what to do about it and what was worse was that it seemed Rumble felt the same way back.
"Hafta go ta Appleoosa," grumbled a hungover Applejack. "So Big Mac has ta stay here with Granny so no one can sell in town er take ya ta school today. That alright?"
"Ah'll be fine." replied Apple Bloom, robotically stirring her grits. The filly mentally shrugged at the question. She'd walked into town a thousand times, not usually alone but it wasn't as if it was dangerous or she'd get lost.
Applejack sat down at her bowl but instead of eating, she just stared forlornly into the tabletop until she winced from her headache.
"What time's yer train?"
"Nine… twenty. Should be back late night."
An idea suddenly popped into Apple Bloom's brain. No one was going to escort her to the schoolhouse. She didn't have to go to school at all. She could just spend the day in town taking pictures and then come home after school ends. Cheerilee would just think she was sick or something and Big Mac would think she went to school.
Apple Bloom choked down a conciliatory amount of grits and stuffed her camera in her saddle bag before heading out alone.
In every spare moment, she was thinking about photography now, about looking at things in different perspectives and composing the world around her into photographs. She never wanted to stop taking pictures. With her muse continuously calling to her, things like school and chores had become even more of a drag. She'd photographed everything that intrigued her at the farm and wanted to shoot elsewhere but it was much harder with all of her obligations. Today she'd have hours with no oversight or strings attached. She didn't even have that on the weekends.
Apple Bloom split off from the path and circumvented the school through the woods. She could hear the distant mean spirited cackling of Diamond Tiara as she entered the schoolhouse on the other side of the trees.
Once in town, she began scouring the city, scrutinizing everything for something resonating to her like an overzealous tourist. With new eyes, she took a second look at everything that had become invisible to her and found so much artistic potential that she'd never noticed before.
Not having her tripod with her, she strapped her camera to a railing to help take a long exposure of the fountain in front of town hall. Then she went in close to the water feature and took several pictures with a fast shutter speed, freezing the flying droplets in mid air. After photographing a few of the most obvious sights around town, she began to gravitate toward decay and stark industrial edifices, a defunct train depot and an empty cement drainage ditch full of abandoned junk. She used shopping carts and wagon wheels as both props and subjects and even found a way to take a few timed self portraits of herself in silhouette in a cement culvert.
Everyone in class was taking photos of flowers and their pets. She took a macro image of rusted bolts, chains and open pipes with murky water flowing through them. She took a picture of an infestation of mud dauber nests and a dead millipede surrounded by shimmering shards of broken glass. Weeds growing through a crack in the cement that somehow reminded her of her parents. A completely unremarkable rock that Apple Bloom realized was special because it had existed forever in some form and in such an immense universe with quadrillions of orbs floating in the dark and endless possibilities therein, somehow their two paths had crossed at this very time and place.
She came upon a grungy tackle box that had lost most of its contents besides the fishing weights which sank with it. Were there fish in the drainage ditch when it was full, she wondered. That didn't seem to make sense. The grody tackle box was cool though. When she looked through the viewfinder, instead of seeing the box, she saw herself aiming the camera at the box as viewed from a vantage point some distance behind her. With a start, she pulled the camera from her face and blinked several times before rubbing her eyes. She looked again and found the view to be normal.
"What?" she whispered before casting a wary glance behind herself at the vacant ditch.
In the early afternoon, she wandered through the streets and noticed that ponies were far more interesting subjects when going about their business naturally than they were when they knew a camera was pointed at them. She began taking candid photos of ponies she didn't even know.
Halfway through her third roll of film for the week, Apple Bloom looked up at the clocktower. It was already after school and later than she'd intended to leave. She had to hurry home and do her chores. She'd get a scolding now. She'd have to say that she just dallied in town or something.
She galloped out of town and onto the old dirt road, kicking up clouds in her wake. Her pace slowed as her lungs began to sting but she kept her steps brisk. When she made it halfway across the orchard of Sweet Apple Acres, she stopped dead in her tracks. There on the porch was Big Mac and her teacher. She felt a sickening pang in her gut. Cheerilee must have come to check up on her or something.
Apple Bloom squeezed through the fence lining the road and hid behind a tree. She peeked out, watching the two converse. It looked like she was caught dead to rights but her mind still raced futilely for some magic excuse to get her out of the situation.
She expected Cheerilee to leave any minute now. She'd hide from her and then return home to throw herself on the floor in front of Big Mac. And then when Applejack came home… Just the thought turned her blood to ice. Why didn't she just go to school?
To her surprise, both Cheerilee and Big Mac left the porch and walked across the turnaround but not in the direction of the road. She kept watching as Big Mac led her teacher into the barn and shut the door behind them.
Apple Bloom scratched her head. "What?" she breathed. "Why would they…" The gears turned slowly in her mind. They wanted to be alone like Scootaloo and Rumble do? No. That didn't make sense. They're not like that. Her curiosity was going to kill her if she didn't find out.
Apple Bloom trotted quietly across the orchard grass and crept up to the side of the barn. There she paused to eavesdrop. She expected to hear talking but instead she could hear the sound of muffled grunting and moaning. Mystified, she stood up on her hind legs to peer through a large knot hole. There, sprawled face up on a haystack, was her teacher, Miss Cheerilee. Big Mac laid atop her, thrusting his hips rhythmically.
Apple Bloom's eyes grew huge. They were… copulating. She was sure of it. She'd never seen such a thing before but what else could it be? It all looked so raw and instinctual. It was as if nothing else existed in that moment. They'd completely lost themselves in each other. Scootaloo and Rumble didn't do this… she didn't think.
Cheerilee wrapped her forelegs around her brother's back. Her mouth was open, blissfully sighing as he pushed into her. That expression. It was the same one from her favorite photo, the mare on the park bench. It was a special face ponies didn't show around just anyone. Overcome by a visceral rush, Apple Bloom raised her camera, eclipsing the knot hole with her lens. She framed her teacher's carnal ecstasy and captured it for her collection.
"Ya played hooky after we trusted you ta do the right thing," snarled Big Mac, stamping his hoof on the floor and sending tremors through his baby sister's legs.
Apple Bloom cowered before him, keeping her eyes on the floor, not only out of fear but also because it was just hard to look at him the same now. All she could think about when she saw his face was him entangled with her teacher and those images burned into the film in her camera and her own eyes. Her perception of them was irreparably shattered. Was that something they'd secretly been doing together for a while or did it just suddenly happen today out of the blue?
It didn't take them long to finish up in the barn and when her teacher left, Apple Bloom returned to the house, apparently before Big Mac had gotten around to freshening up. She could smell Miss Cheerilee on him, both her shampoo and her… scent. His scent too for that matter. It was an overpowering cocktail of lust. Her mind felt like it was going haywire. Their coupling raised so many questions in her mind about not only the significance of the act in general but what it meant between them in particular. She knew it was something she wasn't supposed to see, therefore it was probably something she shouldn't ask him about.
Despite the whiplash of the two opposing events butted up right against each other, Big Mac's intense anger kept him on point.
"Miss Cheerilee says yer close ta failin' math an' science and she's worried that the extra workload from yer photography class is distractin' you. What were ya doin' with yer little day off anyway?"
"Well, I was just takin' pictures in town," quivered Apple Bloom.
"Don't ya think things are hard enough around here without ya makin' more trouble fer us?" he thundered. "Ya complain about everythin'. Ya lie ta weasel yer way outta work. Ya don't think about anyone but yer self anymore. Ya burn through every bit a good faith given to ya. When Applejack gets back, we're gonna have a serious talk about yer new class and yer consequences." Big Mac held out his hoof expectantly. "Gimme yer camera."
Apple Bloom gasped in horror and shook her head. "Wait, no," she cried. "Ya can't! Takin' pictures is the only thing Ah like doin' anymore!"
"We'll talk about it later, Apple Bloom. "Ah need ya ta focus on yer responsibilities right now."
Apple Bloom removed the camera from her saddle bag and reluctantly passed it to him.
"Now go get yer chores done," he grumbled.
His command was a welcome dismissal from the scolding but she was without the camera now and tears were beginning to well in her eyes.
"Ah just want everythin' ta go back how it was," she whimpered.
Apple Bloom burst out the door but didn't make it too far before she was sprawled out hysterical in the dirt, sobbing her eyes out. Everything inside her was distorted and confusing. At that moment she could see clear as day how she had sabotaged herself and how the scheme was high risk, low reward and in the big picture just wasn't worth it, but at the time, everything just seemed so deceptively reasonable in her head.
All too frequently she didn't seem able to discern what was appropriate or good until after the consequences were rendered. She couldn't remember ever having this problem before. Well, admittedly she'd made some worse than usual decisions since the farm's decline but usually she could reason her decisions out afterwards and see why she'd made them in that moment, out of frustration with everything, desire for control or attention. Now it was as though many of her ideas weren't even her own at all and when they were, the impulses they spawned were much bolder than normal and becoming harder to say no to.
Apple Bloom sat at her photography desk, clutching her camera. Her confrontation with Applejack when she came home was less bombastic than she feared. She didn't throw her hat on the ground or swear. She was too worn out from the train ride and Big Mac prefaced his news by letting her know he'd already adequately yelled at and berated the filly.
Her older siblings, though fed up with her behavior, still appreciated that she'd found something in school that she loved and it seemed counterproductive to take it away from her. They tentatively agreed to let her stay in the photography class if she began bringing up her grades and apologized to them and Miss Cheerilee for ditching school. The other provision was that Apple Bloom no longer had free use of the camera. She had to ask permission every time she wanted to use it, almost like a library book. The hope was to better keep her on task and out of trouble.
"These are really great," smiled Lens in summation, pointing at the presentation board where Rumble and Apple Bloom's portraits were mounted. "Enticing venue and the poses and compositions are all unique and surprising. Stellar combination. You've got some very photographic brains."
Apple Bloom's heart did a somersault at hearing his commendations. She and Rumble looked at each other excitedly and hoofbumped in victory. Suddenly Rumble began to glow and the whole room gasped. Wide-eyed, he turned his head to look back at his own flank to see a shimmer and then a shape materialize. As the light dispersed, he recognized the image of a sideways camera, undoubtedly indicative of excellence in portrait photography.
Everypony smiled and clapped their hooves.
"Ya got yer cutie mark," exclaimed Apple Bloom, wrapping her forelegs around his neck.
"This is so exciting," gushed Lens.
Miss Cheerilee patted Rumble on the back. "Congratulations, Rumble!"
After everyone settled down and they finally made it through the rest of the project critique, Apple Bloom developed three rolls of film at once in a single canister. Using her allowance, she bought almost twice as much film than the amount doled out to her by the class. Now that everyone, including Cheerilee, knew how to develop film and print photos, they didn't have to wait for Friday labs to do it which made production much more accessible.
Apple Bloom looked through her fresh batch of negatives, basking in the high they gave. They were all so beautiful. She glanced quickly at the ones of Cheerilee and her brother in the barn before hiding them in her saddle bag. Scanning slowly over the rest, her eyes stopped on a frame that sent shivers down her spine. It was the photograph she'd taken on her bed when Winona had her barking fit. There in the corner of the room was the indisputable form of a pony short in stature like a foal. It was out of focus and unidentifiable but definitely a pony. Its' eyes had the same glowing pupils as the uncanny figure in the found film and they were looking right at the camera. Behind the pony on the wall was its own dark shadow created by the flashbulb. Then she realized that was what she saw with the naked eye that night, just the shadow. This was what made it and what Winona apparently saw. What is it, she wondered. A ghost? Is the house haunted?
Apple Bloom pulled out the other negative and placed the two strips next to one another on the light table, running the magnifier over them. Both images had doors in them which was an easy height gauge. In the found negative, the pony was arguably similar but the size of a full grown pony while the one in her room was maybe her size.
Apple Bloom frowned. "Should Ah tell Applejack 'bout this?" she muttered to herself. She continued looking through the new negatives until another anomaly stopped her cold. The weird pony was there again in one of the photos she took in her ditch day. It was outside of the abandoned depot where she remembered there were no other ponies in sight. The specter was accidentally captured in the distance almost off of the frame. It was looking at the camera while walking to the right, still out of focus with nebulous features.
Was this the same one, she wondered. It was out of the house. Did it just… follow her around? Was it here now? She looked surreptitiously out of the corners of her eyes as if maybe she could catch it hovering just within the bounds of her peripheral vision even though she'd only seen it with the aid of a camera. How long had it been around her? The revelation was unsettling but there was some comfort in knowing it hadn't done anything bad to her in all that time, she didn't think.
Apple Bloom came up behind Rumble and became immediately lost in smelling his mane. She thought she heard Scootaloo say he habitually stole his brother's cologne. She just kept sniffing until he turned around to look at her.
"Uh, hey, didya find anythin' in yer portrait pictures that's weird?" she asked.
"Weird?" He scratched his head. "Not really. Well a couple of them were ruined by weird blurs."
"Weird blurs? Can Ah see 'em?"
Rumble brought out the rest of his negatives and squinted at them. "I think it's these ones."
Apple Bloom examined the strip. The odd blur manifested in two negatives taken in two different places in the sanitorium. It looked like something out of focus in the very near foreground and partially off of the frame. She couldn't confirm if it was the same specter but there was no other explanation she could think of for the phenomenon.
"So what's up?" asked Rumble, looking over her shoulder.
"'Member the weird thing in the film Ah found? It showed up in two a mah pictures."
His eyebrows shot up. "Woah… lemme see."
She brought him to the light table and pointed out the images.
"That's so freaky," he mumbled, looking through the magnifier.
"Ah think maybe it follows me around," she posed.
Rumble did the same thing that Apple Bloom had done when the thought first crossed her mind, scanning the environment warily.
"So could it be here right now?
"Could be but Ah don't think it's dangerous."
She replayed her own words in her head, wanting to just believe them but also wanting to be sure. It hadn’t physically attacked her. That was true. She wasn’t even sure that it could if it wanted to. It had been hanging around her or at least the house for years apparently and done nothing. She wouldn’t even know it was there at all without photographs so did it matter?
Rumble and Apple Bloom rounded up the Cutie Mark Crusaders after class and conspired to go to Sugar Cube Corner to celebrate Rumble's brand new cutie mark. Scootaloo in front of a pristine milkshake, frowning with forelegs crossed.
"You don't look very happy, Scoots," sad Rumble, licking whipped cream off of his hoof.
"I am happy… for you," she grumbled. "I'm just angry that I wasn't there. That's all."
Sweetie Belle clutched her head in her hooves as her brain freeze slowly subsided. "It's not like anyone has control over it," she shrugged. "It happens when it happens. Or in our case… it doesn't."
"Yeah," mumbled Apple Bloom. "Speakin' of, why didn't Ah get mine? We were in the same project. Our photos were both the best and Lens Flare praised all of 'em the same."
"That would have really pissed me off," muttered Scootaloo darkly under her breath. Just thinking about them getting their cutie marks together and the unbreakable bond they'd have, made her stomach churn. It was already bad enough that Apple Bloom was his catalyst.
"I actually liked yours better," he admitted. "And some of my ideas were even partially from you. You're really good at photography and if that doesn't get you your cutie mark, whatever does, you must be a prodigy at it."
Apple Bloom laughed at his logic. "Ah hope yer right about that."
Scootaloo seethed with jealousy as she finally began drinking her shake.
"Uh, are you happy with it?" asked Sweetie Belle, trying to redirect the conversation away from him and Apple Bloom.
"Yeah," he nodded. "You know I never really bought into all the hype and I said I didn't care but I'm glad I got what I did."
Apple Bloom departed from the group needing to hurry home. She was already stretching things staying after school for photography class every other day and now on top of that she'd stayed longer to celebrate Rumble. It was imperative that she at least appeared serious about her chores and schoolwork. She had yet to be grounded and couldn't afford to push her luck.
Apple Bloom burst hastily into the living room just in time to see her sister hide a liquor bottle from sight behind her recliner.
"Yer home kinda late," she grunted.
"Y-yeah, sorry," panted the filly. "Just, Rumble got his cutie mark in class fer photography an' we wanted ta celebrate with him."
Applejack's expression softened and her eyebrows went up. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah, an' it was 'cuz he did real good on our project."
"So ya helped him get it. Tha maygz it egsdra special."
Apple Bloom smiled weakly, suddenly noticing her sister's slurred speech. "Uh… there's somethin' else Ah needed ta tell ya too. Uh…" Her eyes began to dart around the room as if searching for something to spark her memory. "It was about photography… Ah think." She furrowed her brow as a fog seemed to roll into her mind. "What was it?" she muttered frustratedly. It was something strange and really important, at least she thought it was. So why couldn't she recall?
"Ssokay, I'm sure you'll remember before bedtime. Jess remember ta-"
"Chores?"
"Chores 'n' homework," nodded Applejack. "And the camera-"
"Goes in the display case," she replied deflatedly. She pulled her camera out of her bag and gave it to Applejack who set it on the side table. The key under her hat opened the oak display case in the corner where she locked the camera away when it was off limits. Locked because Apple Bloom could no longer be trusted to be responsible. Locked because she'd abused her family's faith in her one too many times.
"C'mere," beckoned Applejack, patting her legs.
Apple Bloom climbed carefully up onto her sister. With a sorrowful expression, Applejack lightly brushed a hoof through her mane and then wrapped her forelegs around her. For a long time they just sat there, close enough to smell the whiskey on her breath. Close enough to feel the tears begin to flow from her eyes.
Applejack sniffed and began to sob. "Ah'm screwin' everythin' up."
Apple Bloom could hardly move within her sister's overwrought embrace. She simply froze up and dissociated from the moment as more tears soaked into her coat.
Chickens swarmed around Apple Bloom as she spread feed in the dirt for them. Then she took her basket and entered the vacant coop.
She wasn't allowed to take her camera out during chores anymore and she felt uncomfortable without it. Since her eyes were opened by Lens Flare, she now viewed the entire world in terms of taking photographs. Everything she saw was divided into realized beauty and unrealized beauty that she just hadn’t figured out yet. Every moment she didn’t have the camera, she was passing by a thousand beautifully hideous things.
After her chores, Apple Bloom would often retreat to her room alone and look through her negatives and thirtysome photo prints which she kept in a little shoebox. She sat on her bed and ritualistically cycled through the images spread across her quilt one at a time to fully appreciate each of them before moving on to the next. She paused for a long time on the negatives of Big Mac and Cheerilee, her insides trembling at the prospect of covertly making prints next class.
She lined up the three different prints she'd made of the mysterious specter and looked back and forth between them. A dim and ambiguous idea sputtered in her brain. It was something about the camera and the specter and her worsening confusion. It was something vaguely ominous. She tried to concentrate but nothing conclusive was coalescing and it was somewhat disconcerting. It was as if there were pieces of an important puzzle sitting in her lap but she couldn't get any of them to fit.
Cheerilee left the darkroom open after class on photography days as long as she had grading or other things to do in the schoolhouse. Apple Bloom took full advantage of the opportunity and used the time to print her more explicit and grotesque photos since she was often the only one in the room.
She watched mesmerized by yet another photo transforming in the developer. Then suddenly she heard the outer door of the darkroom open and shut. Then the inner door opened and shut. She turned around to see Rumble… alone and smiling at her in the reddened darkness.
"Hey," he greeted, setting his saddle bag on the table.
Apple Bloom smiled back. "Hey, Ah thought you left."
"I did. Forgot my negatives at home. Now I'm back." He approached and looked around her into the fixer tray to see a macro photo of several dead flies in a window sill. He screwed up his face. "What's that for?"
"The still life project," she replied.
"Not really life anymore, is it?" he laughed.
"It's like a… whatchacallit? Memento… mori. Ya always see dead flies in window sills but it's real interestin' when ya stop ta think about it. They always end up there because they were trapped and wanted ta leave. They just wanted ta be outside where they're s'poseda be and they can see it right there but they can't get it. They tried so hard an' they wanted it so bad that they even spent their final moments strugglin' ta escape. It's like… should we keep fightin' against inevitably or should we just enjoy bein' trapped while we're still here?"
Rumble absently fished out his packet of negatives. "Wow… It's actually really sad and terrifying when you put it that way. When did you get so…" He scratched his chin, unable to come up with an adequate word. "Poetic?" he finally settled on.
Apple Bloom smiled at that. She took the tongs in her mouth and retrieved the photo, tossing it in the rinse. Her and Rumble, she thought, they really understood each other. What did Scootaloo have that she didn't, besides an attitude and a pair of gimp wings? She just had the advantage of getting to him first, that's all. In a head to head matchup, he'd pick her over Scootaloo every time; she was sure of it. In fact, she didn't need a level playing field or him to be single. If she wanted to, she could have him whenever… Have him… Whenever. She ruminated on those words. They sounded so lovely, looked so enticing, dangling over that cliff.
Rumble focused his enlarger and prepped it with paper and soon he was a one pony photo factory just like Apple Bloom.
After a flurry of fresh photos, Apple Bloom looked at the clock and realized she needed to go do chores soon. Holding up her photo on one hoof, she went up to Rumble and stood close enough that their sides touched. Her muscles trembled on contact, or was it his muscles?
"Oh, yer doin' that one again?" she laughed, recognizing the projection of Scootaloo hurling the rock into the flooded quarry. "Ah like that one. Will ya make me a copy?"
"Yeah," he nodded, switching off the machine. "If you make one for me."
"Which one?"
"How about the one of me taking a picture of you taking a picture of me taking a picture of you?" He glanced at the timer and started his exposure.
"We should both trade that one," posed Apple Bloom. "What else?"
Rumble thought. "I want my album cover," he smirked.
"That's right," laughed Apple Bloom.
"But make it huge so I can make an LP cover mockup," he added, switching off the enlarger again.
"But eight by tens are the biggest we can do."
"You're right," he replied in put-on disappointment. "Normal size is fine then." He dropped the photo into the developer and the two watched dreamily as the dynamic shot of Scootaloo materialized on the paper.
"The rock bein' frozen in the air is the best part." Apple Bloom murmured.
He fished the picture out of the developer solution with his wing tip and held it up for them to see before placing the print in the tray of fixer solution. Apple Bloom dropped hers in the developer next to it.
The two turned away from the chemicals and locked eyes for a moment, then several more moments. Unable to tear away from one another, they were caught careening toward a terrible fruition, a fire they didn't start but neither did they snuff out. Suddenly Apple Bloom could hear no voice of reason inside her head. All she knew was that she liked Rumble and wanted to be like those anonymous ponies on the park bench in the photo. Without a second thought, she stepped forward and pushed her lips into his. The sensual contact between them felt explosive and electric at the same time. The trespass was like ice cream for her ego and the noticeable hesitation in Rumble before he pulled away was the cherry on top.
"What are you doing?" he gasped, taking a step back.
"We're kissin'" she answered matter-of-factly.
He looked at the door and then back at her, swallowing anxiously. "We- we can't do that."
His body language told her what his words tried to hide: he was thinking it over. She just needed to sell it. "You can do whatever ya want," she argued. "No one's gonna know, if that's all yer worried about."
"Uh..." Rumble bit his lip apprehensively and his eyes dropped to the floor in delicious indecision. Having him cornered, Apple Bloom closed her eyes and leaned in again, determined to get her tongue in his mouth this time but he put a hoof up to keep her from advancing.
He stared back at her in wide-eyed conviction. "I… I have to go." He stumbled to the tray and scooped up his fixed photo without rinsing it. Then he gathered the rest of his prints and negatives and hurried out the door, casting one last glance back at her.
The door clicking shut snapped Apple Bloom out of her mood. She stood frozen, trying to parse through what she'd just done and why. The dampness from his lips lingered on hers. It didn't make any sense. Yes, she genuinely wanted to kiss him; she knew it was wrong, or at least something that needed to stay secret, but for some reason, she didn't care at all. No, it wasn't that she didn't care that it was wrong, wrong was the point. She liked Rumble but more than anything she wanted to intrude on Scootaloo and him in every sense of the word, to go somewhere sacred she wasn't allowed, corrupt and defile it and make it hers.
Her lips still tingled with the embers of that stolen kiss. It was the most exhilarating sensation she'd felt yet but in its wake she was left scared and confused about what happened next. "Maybe Ah shouldna done that," she breathed, staring into the picture of the tackle box still floating in the developer.
Apple Bloom was more apprehensive than usual to go to school the following day, fearing what fallout she might have triggered with her impermissible yet still satisfying misdeed.
When she arrived, Scootaloo smiled and greeted her like usual. Rumble must not have told her about what happened in the darkroom. The colt however sat uncharacteristically quiet and stiff as a board all through their morning classes. Though he avoided eye contact with Apple Bloom, she could still feel Rumble's eyes on her whenever she wasn't looking.
She mildly wished she hadn't kissed him but at the same time she also wished she had a picture of it to help her relive the moment. Should she try to apologize, wondered Apple Bloom. Maybe she should just take lewd photos of herself and hide them in his saddle bag. Maybe both. Things were clearly weird now between them and it was only a matter of time before it began to fester on her friendship with Scootaloo and then probably Sweetie Belle too.
Miss Cheerilee pointed at her chalk diagram of a cross section of an eye as she tried to wrap up science class. "The interesting thing is that everything your eye sees is actually upside-down. When your brain gets an image from your eyes, it has to flip it right side up so it makes sense."
Apple Bloom raised her hoof.
"Yes, Apple Bloom," called Cheerilee, excited to see the filly with a question and in science class no less.
She squinted in a strained expression, trying to remember what she wanted to ask. She couldn't, so she just asked the first thing to come to her mind. "Uh, what's inside an eye?"
Cheerilee tapped the center of the diagram. "You mean inside the big part?" she smiled.
"Uh-huh," Apple Bloom nodded back.
Cheerilee looked down at her book but was unable to come up with the technical answer. "Well, the name escapes me but it's a clear jelly-like fluid that's just meant to keep your eye round."
Apple Bloom heard the word 'jelly' and immediately formed a follow-up question. "What does it taste like?"
"What?" laughed Diamond Tiara, shaking her head. Then much quieter so the teacher wouldn't hear, "Freak."
The whole class seemed to shift in their seats to gawk at Apple Bloom for the question.
Cheerilee's face fell. "I'm… not sure and I hope no one actually knows." Her eyes flicked up to the clock. "It is recess time though so let's go outside everypony."
The students broke from their desks and clamored for the door to claim their turf on the playground. Apple Bloom got up with them but Cheerilee called out to her as discreetly as she could manage.
"Um, Apple Bloom? May I talk to you for a moment?"
Apple Bloom turned back around to see a downcast Miss Cheerilee waiting behind her desk. The filly approached with a sigh and immediately began thinking of the face and the sounds her teacher had made in the barn with her brother on top of her.
Cheerilee watched the last student trot out the door before her eyes landed back on Apple Bloom. "I'm sure you already know I've spoken with your family about your grades. I don't know if you've noticed this but your performance has actually gotten worse since we all promised to make a concerted effort to bring your grades up. Are you alright? Did something bad happen, I mean other than the usual?"
"No," replied Apple Bloom without much thought.
Cheerilee creased her forehead in worry. "Are you sure? I'm just having a really hard time understanding this clear and sudden change. You used to-" she paused, not wanting to embellish but also not wanting to be brutally honest. "Do just fine in school," she finished measuredly. "But in the past few weeks, you've been in a downward spiral. It keeps accelerating and I'm afraid we haven't even found the bottom yet. You're doing your work now, mostly, but the work you're doing is… bad, especially in-class"
"Nothing's happening," snapped Apple Bloom, irritably.
"Okay," shrugged her teacher, not wanting her to tune out of the conversation. "You have an A in photography and that's great. That's the best grade you've ever had in anything. I'm so happy that you found something that resonates with you and motivates you. And you know what? It proves that you already have what it takes to succeed inside and all by yourself too. We just need to find a way to harness that for the areas that you're struggling in and I think the best way to do that is to get you tested and get you a tutor." She smiled cautiously.
Apple Bloom's brain spasmed with aggravation. This sounded like more scholastics which was the opposite of what she wanted. "Ah don't wanna tutor," she shrieked. "Why can't Ah just do photography?"
Cheerilee pushed past her outburst with with an even tone. "Because not everything in life is photography. You need to know other things too or you're going to have a really hard time being a grownup. Everypony has to go to school. Everypony has things they're good and not so good at but we all have to get through it."
"Why is everyone tryin' ta stop me from takin' pictures?" cried the filly, flailing her forelegs in the air. "You're all against me; this isn't fair!"
"Apple Bloom," she pleaded. "We're not. We all want to help you succeed. We all want you to be able to stay in photography but you need to do better in your classes."
Apple Bloom bowed her head till it thudded facedown on the desk and then she let out an exasperated sigh.
Cheerilee frowned in sadness. "Let's go outside and destress, We'll talk about it with your brother and sister later."
Without a word, Apple Bloom turned around and stormed away, leaving her teacher in disbelief at her behavior. She'd never seen her so agitated before.
Outside, Apple Bloom traipsed slowly toward the playground where her classmates screamed and giggled. Her attention was not on them. Instead she watched every blade of springy green grass as it scrolled beneath her while she stewed over the nightmarish prospect of being saddled with a tutor and a battery of tests. Eventually the lush blades became patchier as she came across exposed earth and suddenly, something remarkable appeared.
Apple Bloom stared straight down at the neat little cone of granulated dirt and the endless procession of ants marching in and out. It had the same fixating allure as the decomposing squirrel and she didn't have her camera with her today. It was agonizing. How was she supposed to fully experience this anthill without a camera? As she pondered and stared, a compulsion slowly swelled in her brain like a balloon until she simply had no choice but to act.
Slowly she bowed her head, focusing on the little black dot at the center. She stuck her tongue out and dragged it across the anthill as if she were licking frozen yogurt, smearing it across the ground and drawing a scoop into her mouth with her lips. The little grains melted into mud with her warm saliva. The ants themselves added bursts of intense bitterness. She didn't really enjoy the taste or the texture but she kept eating it anyway until the hill was gone and the little exit to the nest was flush with the ground and surrounded by confused, meandering ants.
"Oh, gross," scoffed a haughty voice.
Apple Bloom looked up to see Diamond Tiara glaring at her contemptuously and Silver Spoon who had her hooves over her mouth like she was about to vomit.
"Did you just eat an anthill?" she asked with a derisive smirk.
"Yeah," answer Apple Bloom dryly.
Diamond laughed, taken aback by her blunt admission. "Guess you need to add 'unbelievably disgusting' to your blank flank CV."
Diamond turned around to face the foals on the playground and shouted to get their attention "Hey, everypony!"
That was as far as her announcement got as Apple Bloom pounced on her back, taking her flat to the ground. She leaned back atop Diamond and began throwing hooves into the back of her head, knocking off her tiara and smashing her tidy little face into the dirt.
"Hey, stop," cried Silver Spoon in alarm. Afraid to engage her directly, she clamped her teeth onto Apple Bloom's tail and pulled desperately but her vengeful resolve had seemingly made her immoveable as she continued to wail on Diamond's skull.
The whole playground had stopped to stare in slack jawed shock at the violent fracas, quiet enough to hear the dull thuds of her hooves making impact. Even so, she could not hear the shouts from her teacher for her to cease and the only discernible thought in her mind was mild wonder at why she hadn't just done this sooner. Suddenly Apple Bloom felt a much more powerful force yank her cleanly off of Diamond as Miss Cheerilee arrived on the scene.
The teacher frantically set her to the side and went back to help Diamond. "Diamond, are you alright?" She reached down to tenderly help the filly up.
Diamond staggered to her hooves sobbing uncontrollably and spitting soil from her mouth. Her mane was tousled. Her face was smeared with dirt and blood which oozed from her nose. After seeing the visceral mess that was Diamond Tiara, Cheerilee turned to Apple Bloom with a seldom seen scowl.
"Go back in the schoolhouse, Apple Bloom," she ordered.
Apple Bloom cocked her head in protest. "But she was-"
Apple Bloom wistfully scattered feed for a gaggle of clucking chickens while her siblings fought inside the house over what to do with her. Coming home with a fuming Big Mac to her emotional powder keg of a sister somehow felt less awful than when she'd had to faceup for playing hooky but it was still plenty awful.
Applejack lamented both her use of violence and her unfortunate choice of attacking the daughter of Sweet Apple Acres' number one benefactor, Filthy Rich. She also threatened her with boarding school but Apple Bloom suspected they didn't have the money to pull that off and that it was mostly a bluff.
Miss Cheerilee brought up the possibility of sending the filly to therapy to help with her behavioral issues. Big Mac hinted at Diamond probably having it coming despite it not being a helpful avenue of discussion. Everyone wanted to know what set Apple Bloom off. She couldn't explain it, even to herself, so she just shrugged and said nothing. This, of course, only agitated the situation further.
Diamond Tiara had done worse things to her and her friends in the past without ever provoking physical retaliation from any of them. That wasn't to say that the fantasy hadn't played out in her head a time or two but she'd never even been close to losing it the way she had today. It was almost like the guardrails in her brain we're missing
Her brother and sister were at wit's end and seemed convinced that Apple Bloom was going to end up in prison if they didn't quell her increasingly amoral behavior.
Instead of immediately going inside the hen house, Apple Bloom stared up at the sky, getting distracted by the floaters in her eyes, a habit she'd had since she discovered them. She was grounded now; that much was certain. She wondered if she'd be able to go to Rumble's cute-ceañera whenever it was or if she'd be invited to it at all. The prospect of missing it made her feel bad but it was getting more difficult to see how her actions factored into her own predicaments. Everything was starting to just look like a conspiracy against her. That and the growing cloudiness of her mental acuity were frustrating her to no end. The only thing that made sense anymore was photography. It was the only stable ground she could stand on and she was separated from it all too often now.
Apple Bloom brought eggs into the kitchen. She left them for Applejack on the counter. Then she went to the living room to go look at the camera in the display case but she stopped in the doorway when she saw the back of Granny's head. The old mare sat still in her rocker. Just as she was about to abort the mission and turn tail, she heard her speak.
"Ap- Ab- Abble… That you, Abble Bloom?" she asked in a shaky voice. "Yer face lookin' better. Mah eyes must be gettin' better."
Apple Bloom frowned in confusion. "Y-yeah, it's me." She waited for further discourse but Granny just sat silently, a small tremor occasionally shaking her head or hooves.
Granny hadn't turned or made eye contact with Apple Bloom, so she was unsure if she was actually trying to speak to her or if she was just babbling, lost in her own world. Regardless, it made Apple Bloom uncomfortable, so she turned back into the entryway.
Applejack came in from down the stairs. "Ya finish the chickens?" she asked without an ounce of spirit left in her voice.
"Uh-huh," mumbled Apple Bloom.
"Bring yer books ta the table. We're gonna study. Ah don't have time but we're gonna do it." She brushed past Apple Bloom and turned into the living room while the filly headed for the stairs. "Alright, Granny, I'm gonna bring ya outside ta be with Big Mac. That alright?"
Granny didn't respond but Applejack was able to coax her into her wheelchair without too much trouble.
"Ah- Ah'm listenin' ta Abple Bloom," she muttered.
Apple Bloom paused on the steps at hearing her name and turned back to the doorway to listen. Again she was unsure if the old mare was really talking about her or was just confused.
"Oh, ya are?" asked Applejack in a politely placative tone. It wasn't the first time Granny had made an offbeat comment and it wouldn't be the last. "Alright," Applejack agreed. "Say goodbye fer now. You'll see her later."
To this, Granny said nothing.
At the kitchen table, Apple Bloom asked if she could study with the camera in her lap. Applejack agreed, seeing it as a weird but innocuous accommodation as long as it didn't distract her. Though Apple Bloom was as compliant and on task as she could be, she struggled to keep a thought in her brain and quickly forgot things. It wasn't that the content was beyond her reach. It was like she needed to relearn how to think. Or there was just a spanner in her gears that she couldn't get out.
Applejack gave an aggravated sigh. "You'd better not be doin' this on purpose."
"Ah'm not," whined Apple Bloom. "Ah can't think right."
"It didn't useda be this hard. What's different now?"
"Ah dunno," she shrugged.
"Ah didn't put much stock in it when Miss Cheerilee said we should get ya tested fer learnin' disabilities but maybe we should, 'cuz this is not normal."
Apple Bloom groaned. She just wanted to go back in the darkroom and have everyone stop hastling her.
Despite Apple Bloom being suspended from school, Applejack made sure her day started at the same time and that she did chores all throughout what would have been her school day. She complied mostly, because she knew that if she did, she'd gain access to the camera once again. That was one thing she could understand.
There were always windfall apples to gather. There were always dead trees to dismantle and stack. Apple Bloom stopped her wobbly cart next to another carcass of a lost apple tree, Winona sniffing around behind her. She didn't know how Big Mac spent the better part of the day selling in town and then came home to lay waste to all these trees. She busied herself loading up another cartfull of wood until she noticed Winona sitting on her haunches, tail wagging. Though she was facing away from the filly, she could see the dog was begging with her paws outstretched. Apple Bloom looked past her but saw nothing. It made no sense. She only did that for ponies. Not only were there no ponies over there, there was nothing but trees.
Winona dropped to all fours, then barked excitedly in a playbow. Apple Bloom watched her, bewildered as she ran in circles the same way she did when they played fetch.
"Winona," she called, but the dog kept playing. Apple Bloom dropped a split log in her wagon with a loud thud. "Winona," she shouted.
The dog stopped abruptly to look back at her, panting quizzically.
"What are ya doin?"
Winona laid down on the ground and yawned as Apple Bloom finished loading the wood.
When her wouldbe school day was over, Applejack opened the display case and allowed Apple Bloom to use the camera for one hour as long as she complied with her grounding, by staying on the Apples' property. Although she'd exhausted much of the novel photographic opportunities of the farm, she still found pleasure in wandering around till she finished off her in-progress film roll.
Apple Bloom reluctantly walked into the schoolhouse the morning after her two day suspension ended. The change in the class climate was immediately noticeable. Fillies and colts all seemed distant, regarding her the same way that Rumble had been. Even Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle's greetings consisted of muted smiles and subdued waves. Diamond Tiara glanced at her once and looked away, shrinking down in her chair, probably wishing to become invisible. She had bruises on her face and a pair of butterfly bandages on her forehead from a deep cut.
Something about seeing the lasting aftermath of her assault struck a disquieting chord inside her. I really did that, she thought. When she'd attacked Diamond, it felt detached and unreal, like a dream. Over the past two days, she honestly hadn't given it much thought, almost like it was just some story she overheard where she didn't know anyone involved. But there it was, real scars, inside and out. Diamond's pampered complexion forever altered because she couldn't keep her big mouth shut.
At recess, the Cutie Mark Crusaders met on the merry-go-round. The three of them sat facing the center as they spun slowly.
"Since you've been gone, Diamond Tiara's been… better?" admitted Sweetie with a frown.
"Yeah, she's traumatized so bad, she won't even look at us," laughed Scootaloo. "It's great."
Sweetie Belle shot her a flare."Scootaloo," she said in admonishment.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes and sighed. "What? Are you gonna tell me you don't like it better this way?"
Sweetie creased her forehead. "Well… I just…"
Scootaloo jumped back in before she could finish her thought. "The suspension sucks but I wouldn't feel too bad about what you did."
"Ugh," Sweetie scoffed in disgust. She got up and jumped off of the Merry-go-round with a huff and wandered away.
"Sweetie Belle?" called Scootaloo. "C'mon." She sighed and jumped off, leaving Apple Bloom spinning by herself, lost in her own thoughts.
After school, Apple Bloom had just enough time to develop a couple of rolls of film before leaving. She couldn't just while the whole afternoon away until she needed to leave for chores or homework. She had a much shorter leash now and had to stay accountable for the sake of rebuilding trust with her family.
Apple Bloom carefully pulled the slick sepia curls from their reels and chopped them up with a film cutter on the light table. Although she had to leave immediately, she couldn't resist looking at the negatives first. She could make up the lost time with a brisk trot home, she reasoned.
She put the cut strips in protective sleeves and began scanning the magnifier over them. She recognized the closeup of the pattern on a cow hide and the texture of a wall of stacked wood. The spider nest in the barn. She paused on an unfamiliar frame for a closer look. No, she remembered this one. It was the one she took of a dirty alley with dumpsters, empty bottles and a couple of abandoned chairs against a brick wall but something was different.
There, next to the first dumpster, was an earth pony that looked to be her age. She couldn't recognize them, especially since they were out of focus. The strange thing was that nothing else in the photo was blurry. It must have been motion blur, she decided. Even though the face was distorted, Apple Bloom could tell that the foal's head was turned to the side and they were looking straight at the camera and smiling. It was uncanny. How did she not remember this very obvious pony getting in the shot?
She screwed up her face but continued looking through the sequence. Everything was looking good until she got to her most recent photos and came across another unexpected pony.
She squinted down at another foal smiling back at her. "It's me?" she murmured in confusion. She racked her brain for an explanation. This was supposed to be a landscape photo of a swamp on the edge of the Everfree Forest but apparently she'd turned it into a self portrait. The most mind boggling thing though was that her pose and the composition of the image looked arbitrary, subpar even. She was standing static and straight on and too close to the edge of the frame. It was almost like she'd taken an accidental snapshot of herself… while smiling at the camera. Why and how would she go to the trouble of setting up a photo of herself and have it look like this?
She scratched her head. "Wait. Ah didn't even have the tripod with me… or did Ah?"
Suddenly it occurred to her that her cheerful smile looked very similar to the one in the other weird photo. She went back to the previous image and scrutinized the figure further. Attop the head was a blurry shape that could have reasonably been her mane bow. "Are these both me? That can't be right at all." She strained her brain, demanding answers but the more she struggled, the more the fog rolled in.
On the weekend, Apple Bloom's grounding ended and the Cutie Mark Crusaders had an official meeting in the clubhouse without Rumble. Then they went into the house for apples and popcorn. Apple Bloom set up Oranges to Oranges on the kitchen table.
"I still don't get this game," muttered Scootaloo, eyeing Sweetie Belle's pile of wins. She hadn't won a single game so far and only about four rounds in all which had her tied with Apple Bloom for a distant last place.
"It doesn't really have specific rules fer success," Apple Bloom replied absently, looking over the two cards before her.
"I win because I'm funny," boasted Sweetie.
Scootaloo shrugged in frustration. "Well then there's obviously a technique to the game."
"Ah pick 'overrated,'" declared Apple Bloom, pushing the card away.
Sweetie pumped her hoof. "Yes! That's mine!"
"Okay, that's enough Oranges to Oranges," grumbled Scootaloo, crossing her forelegs. "Let's do something I can beat Sweetie Belle at."
"What's that?" scoffed Sweetie Belle.
"Race you upstairs," challenged Scootaloo, springing from her chair. She got to her marks in the entryway, with a coiled athletic stance.
"Okay," agreed Sweetie Belle, sauntering over to set up next to her.
"On three," said Scootaloo. "One… Two…"
Sweetie charged forward from the start line.
"Hey, you jumped the gun," blasted Scootaloo angrily as the two of them thundered up the stairs.
Apple Bloom followed quickly behind them, leaving the game on the table. When she reached her room, she saw Sweetie bouncing triumphantly on her bed.
"I win! I win!"
"Ugh, you cheated," grumbled Scootaloo.
Apple Bloom's eyes fell on the shoebox sitting at the edge of her bed. She'd forgotten to put it away. Before the filly could act to secure it, Sweetie bounced the box into the air where it lost its lid. It landed on the floor, spilling dozens of black and white photos over the old floorboards.
"Oh, sorry," gasped Sweetie Belle. She hopped to the floor and began levitating pictures into the air to help put them away. "I can-" She stopped mid sentence as her eyes fell on an image of her own sleeping face, no doubt from a sleepover. She scrunched up her face in concern and looked down to see another photograph, this one a closeup of the place below her curly duotone tail. Her eyes grew huge in horror.
"What?" she whimpered. "Why do you have this?" She didn't wait for an answer before she started shredding the images with gritted teeth and tears forming in her eyes.
"Wait. Don't do that," cried Apple Bloom in protest as she tried to snatch away the rapidly disintegrating pictures.
"What kind of friend would do this?" Sweetie shot back.
Scootaloo began spreading out more of the photos with her hoof. Her mouth dropped open as she picked out a candid photo of her in a deep kiss with Rumble against a tree in the woods. Around it were half a dozen others just of Rumble, some with him posing for the camera and others where he seemed unaware he was being photographed.
Alarmed at their discovery, Apple Bloom dove on top of the pile a few moments too late and frantically tried to wrangle every loose photo underneath her barrel.
"What the hell is this?" snarled Scootaloo. "You've been spying on us? I can't believe you'd do this. You're just some disgusting closet pervert! What do you do with all these?"
"Ah- Well…"
Humiliated, Sweetie Belle galloped from the room, crying.
"Wait, Sweetie," called Apple Bloom desperately. "They're- they're fer an assignment."
Scootaloo slapped Apple Bloom hard across the face. "I knew there was something going on with you and Rumble! Don't come near me or my coltfriend ever again!" She turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Apple Bloom slumped over her pile of photographs.
A tear pattered onto the picture of Rumble taking a picture of her, followed by a drop of blood from her nose. The taste of metal started to slide down the back of her throat and she began to sob. Her cries gradually became louder, her body heaving violently with her spasming diaphragm. She felt awful… or wonderful. She didn't notice when her sobs turned into unexplained manic laughter while she stared into the photo of Rumble.
Apple Bloom stood in the living room staring into the display case, right at the camera. She'd lost track of time.
"Hey, where's Scootaloo 'n' Sweetie Belle?" asked Applejack from the doorway, a perplexed expression on her face.
"They left," replied Apple Bloom absently, without looking away from the case.
"Already?" Applejack waited an inordinate amount of time before her sister finally responded.
"Yeah."
Applejack scratched her head at the peculiar exchange, a bit unnerved that Apple Bloom was still intently watching the camera like it was a magic show. "Ah assume ya wanna… go take pictures?"
"Yeah."
"Well, ya know what ya gotta do… Is somethin' wrong?"
"No."
Applejack paused, trying to piece together why everything about this seemed so odd. Though she eventually gave up and drifted away, she was no less perturbed.
Apple Bloom dragged herself away from the locked up camera and went outside with the egg basket. She got a sack of feed out of the storage barrel along the fence and began spreading seed for the chickens. When every last one was pecking in the dirt, she turned to the hen house and gazed into the darkness of the little chicken door. Suddenly, inspiration struck her like a meteorite. Her eyes widened in glorious revelation and her mouth twisted into a smile. This work would be her magnum opus.
Apple Bloom lay near catatonic on her bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling. She'd waited there for over two hours, her mind humming with the forces of creation. She hadn't heard a sound in the big farmhouse for quite a while. By the glow of the moonlight, she saw that the clock read eleven twenty-five. Now was a good time.
The filly rolled out of bed, carefully lit her lantern and gathered up her saddlebag. In the hall bathroom she got out the small makeup collection she'd taken from Applejack's bathroom. She couldn't remember ever seeing her sister with makeup on. The fact that many of the tubes and compacts looked unopened came as no surprise.
She took out a tube of the reddest lipstick, gazed into the mirror and began drawing circles around her mouth. When the application was lopsided and overwrought, she stopped and smiled at herself. Then she started with the eyeshadow, putting it on in much the same fashion until her eyes looked like two irregularly shaped blue bruises. She smiled wide at her reflection once more. Then she took the lantern handle in her mouth and crept down the stairs.
Apple Bloom entered the living room and paused longingly in front of the display case where the camera sat. She scooted a chair up to the case and then her eyes flicked over to the stone bookend on the shelf. She snatched it up and climbed onto the chair where she was eye level with the camera. The house was large and everypony but Granny slept upstairs and everyone knew she didn't hear too well.
Using the stone like a hammer, Apple Bloom bludgeoned the pane of glass which separated her from her art. It crackled and spiderwebbed but held so she hit it harder. The glass gave way with a modest crash. She set the bookend down on the chair and breathlessly plucked the camera from amongst the collection of heirlooms and knicknacks.
She didn't hear the ceiling creak from an alarmed Applejack stumbling out of bed so Apple Bloom left the house through the front door and made her way to the hen house. She paused and smiled when she heard the sound of quiet, soft clucking from the moonlit hutch. She set her bag down and unstrapped her tripod, popping it open a few paces from the structure where she set up the shot. The only light on the farm was the moon and her lantern which sat on the ground
Once the flash was mounted, the camera set and in focus, she got out the old flowered hat and the feathered boa and threw them on. She couldn't see herself but she knew she'd look amazing. Now all that was left was the most important element. Apple Bloom went to the tool shed and found a metal canister of kerosene. She excitedly trotted back to the hen house and began dowsing the perimeter of the little shelter, splashing fuel out of the spout. She made a full lap around but kept going till the can was empty. This would get her accolades in class and a cutie mark for sure. Not to mention less chores and more camera time.
Apple Bloom set the can down out of the prescribed shot and swallowed, hardly able to contain her zealous euphoria. Panting with fervor, she picked up the lantern in her hooves and smashed it against the hen house. With a whoosh, an orange ring of fire ignited around the structure, illuminating the front of the old farmhouse with a warm frenetic glow.
Apple Bloom stared, mesmerized by the blaze as it licked and crept up the walls. Not yet, she thought. It needed to be the perfect time. At first the The chickens didn't sense anything wrong. Most of them were probably still asleep. But as the flames grew higher and smoke began to fill their home, Apple Bloom could hear them beginning to wake in terror. There came fluttering. Then panicked cries, then screaming and more fluttering as it became hotter and the air toxic. The only exit was on fire and their little brains couldn't overcome the primal fear that sparked inside them.
As the flames reached the roof and the chaos inside reached a fever pitch, Apple Bloom knew that it was time. She tapped the shutter button to start the countdown and then hustled over to a spot in front of the burning hen house. She settled into a standing pose, then straightened her hat and boa once more as the camera counted down. A sustained manic smile spread across her face so wide that she could feel the caked on eyeshadow cracking around the corners of her eyes.
A window in the second story flew open with a slam as Applejack shrieked her name but the filly did not move a muscle as the timer reached zero and a brilliant flash blinded her eyes.
Apple Bloom awakened on her bed around noon with a mental clarity she'd almost forgotten existed. For a moment, she forgot what day it was but it must have been Sunday. She immediately thought it strange because her siblings never let her sleep in this late, even on weekends. She had recollections of a nightmare of something horrific she'd done in the dead of the night. In the back of her mind was an unshakable sense of remorse that inexplicably blanketed her every thought.
The filly uncomfortably climbed out of bed and left her room through the already open door. That's weird, she thought. She usually slept with the door closed.
In the hall, Apple Bloom heard the jingle of Winona's collar as she pattered back to the room, probably to get in her bed. When the dog caught sight of her, she stopped in her tracks and started to growl. Her tail stuck out rigid and so did the fur on her back.
Apple Bloom paused in confusion. "Winona? What are ya-"
Winona began to bark threateningly at her as she approached. The filly hugged the wall as she cautiously went around.
"What's gotten inta ya? She hurried away looking back over her shoulder. Winona had never treated her like that before, almost like she was a stranger.
As she neared the stairs, she could hear the sound of excited murmuring from a large group downstairs. Apple Bloom frowned in bemusement. "What's goin' on?" she muttered to herself.
At the bottom of the stairs, she found the kitchen was packed for lunch like it was Hearth's Warming dinner. She looked around the bustling table, mouth agape at the unexpected gathering. Everyone was here. Scootaloo and Rumble. Sweetie Belle and Diamond Tiara. Her face was still bandaged but healing. Miss Cheerilee sat next to Big Mac. There was her sister Applejack and Granny sitting next to… Apple Bloom?" She gasped and blinked her eyes but the little yellow filly with the bow in her mane did not vanish. It was an imposter, someone who looked exactly like her and had everyone fooled.
"May Ah have some more grits, please?" asked the other her.
"Ya sure can," chuckled Applejack, sliding the bowl to her plate "When did ya start likin' grits all of a sudden?"
"When's your cute-ceañera?" asked Diamond.
"Next weekend," chimed Rumble, grabbing a cob of corn. "I need to pass out the invitations on Monday but everyone here is invited."
"I'll be there," said Cheerilee with a smile.
"Don't forget that's also when yer helpin' me with mah extra credit science assignment," raised the other Apple Bloom, splatting a heaping helping of grits on her own plate.
"Of course," giggled Cheerilee. "I'd never forget that. This is all so exciting!"
For several moments, Apple Bloom just stood there, dumbstruck at the scene. This was a weird dream, she reasoned. It had to be. "Hey, what's goin' on?" she finally cried, loud enough that the whole room could hear. But no one acknowledged her whatsoever. They were all laughing and talking gregariously. They were all so amicable and happy, happier than she thought ever possible. She began circling the table in a panic, calling out, trying to get someone, anyone's attention but it was as if she weren't even there. Apple Bloom tried to tap her brother on the back, but to her horror, her own foreleg passed right through him. She held up what should have been her hooves in front of her face only to see that they were blurry, dark and vaporous.
Her mouth dropped open as she felt her face and looked the rest of herself over, seeing more of the same features. Suddenly she looked up to see Granny staring at her in wide-eyed terror.
"Ah- Ahh- Ah-," she stammered as those at the table halted their conversations to look at the old mare.
"Granny, what's wrong?" asked Applejack in concern.
A few ponies instinctively glanced at where she was looking but appeared to see nothing.
The other Apple Bloom hugged the old mare's side. "It's alright, Granny. Let's go get some fresh air."
"Aw, yer so sweet, sugar cube," cooed Applejack.
"Can we all have a picnic outside?" gasped Sweetie Belle.
"Eeyup," agreed Big Mac.
There was exuberant consensus from the table as everyone began scooting out from their chairs and packing up the food and dishes. Scootaloo nuzzled Rumble. Apple Bloom collapsed to her nebulous haunches as she watched Applejack and the other her wheel Granny out of the kitchen. The joyous party trickled out of the house, the last pony, Miss Cheerilee, shutting the door behind her.
