"Two tickets, please?" asked a brown zebra, holding up the bits for the purchase.
The sea green Equine pony working the ticket booth looked up from her phone with a start. She quickly regained her composure.
"Uh. Oh, sure," the mare in the booth took the bits from the zebra and handed over the two tickets. "Enjoy the ride, you two."
"Thanks," replied the zebra.
"Will do," promised the light brown Saddle Arabian unicorn standing to his left. She was a young mare, clearly younger than her company, and wore her black mane short and neat. Her magic horn protruded from her forehead.
The two of them got in line for the line to the ride they had had just purchased access to. The Grand Aslam Ferris Wheel was enormous, standing over two hundred feet in the air. It held the world record for ten years, until a bigger one was constructed at the 'Boucler la Boucle' in Prance three years ago. Regardless, the ride was decorated with lights of several colored lights and was visible from miles off.
The two would've looked out of place, as all the other ponies else waiting for the ride were young fillies and foals along side their parents. But, no one seemed to notice. Or care.
The unicorn evaded the gaze of her company, as the wheel slowly moved ascended upwards. The zebra didn't seem to mind.
In no time, the zebra and unicorn were looking out upon the entire Aslam Amusement Park and all of it's glory. The unicorn instantly recognized everything. The Twirling Teacup Tower. The hot dog stand. The Vomi-Tron. The parking lot with carriages picking up and dropping off visitors. Everything was so familiar to her. But. Uncannily, different.
"We always used to do this," the unicorn finally broke the silence. She still avoided the brown zebra's eyes. "We'd visit this amusement park every-"
"Second Saturday of the month," the zebra finished for her.
Still avoiding his eyes, the mare nodded.
"We'd always count how many ponies we spotted going up the wheel."
The park was surprisingly empty at the time. Normally, Haziir Park was choked up with tourists and visitors from far and wide. Now, only a few ponies were dotted on the walk ways.
"Four years after-"
The unicorn trailed off.
"-Mom somehow convinced me to do this with Tread Slow," she giggled. "The entire outing, there and back, was just silent. It was super awkward. I almost felt bad for the guy."
It was so easy to talk to the zebra. She hadn't talked to him in six years, but it still seemed as if nothing had changed.
The two of them were nearing the top. From here, they could make out the cobblestone clock tower all the way in town.
Finally, the unicorn turned to the zebra, meeting his emerald green eyes with her sky blue ones.
"Years ago, Mom kept trying to tell me that sometimes, ponies need to move on. Put things behind them. Let change happen." Her eyes turned watery. She wouldn't cry. She'd done that enough years ago. She refused to do it as an adult.
The wheel had strangely come to a complete stop with the two perfectly on top. So did everything else. An Arabian filly in the lower couch was frozen in place peering over the side of the couch. Pegasi park employees were suspended in mid air, in the middle of a flap. The only moving creatures in the entire park were the zebra and the unicorn.
"I can't think of a day I don't wake up with you on my mind. I miss you so much. How am I supposed to just move on? You know what I've done because this? Do you know what I've almost done?"
The tears flew freely, streaming down her cheeks. The drops froze in the air, as all the other ponies did below them.
"Sweetie," the zebra seemed to look past the mare, lost in thought. "I - I didn't..."
The zebra paused for a moment. A moment that felt like an hour.
"What exactly is the almost part?" the zebra asked, his eyes fixed on the mare in front of her.
Another silence hung over the two. There was no other motion, no other sounds, to distract the two from each other.
After another eternity, the unicorn responded with a question, one seeming completely unrelated.
"What's the name of the current Prime Minister's kid?"
The zebra gave the mare a look of pure confusion.
"Uh, Numb White? Wh-Why'd you ask that?"
"Huh," the unicorn slouched back in her seat, ignoring her company's question. "That's strange."
"Why?" asked the zebra.
"He was born three years ago. You died four years ago."
The zebra's eyes dropped down, looking at the floor.
"So what, or more specifically, who killed you, exactly?" interrogated the unicorn.
The zebra sighed, as if he had anticipated her asking that, and prayed that she wouldn't.
"Come on, now. You didn't think I'd grow up never wondering how my own father was killed." The mare cringed for a moment. Thinking about the horrible scene. "It wasn't as bad as you'd probably think, really. I didn't have to see into your face again. Like I do now."
That was lie, but BitterSweet believed it was a well told one.
"Your guess is as good as mine," the zebra replied after a long minute of thinking up a response. "You don't get a kill cam in real life."
"You wouldn't know, since you only seem to know everything I do."
"Sweetie-"
"You're figment of my imagination. And one hay of a good one."
The unicorn chuckled at her own falling towards insanity. She wiped away her tears.
"Well, that explains the floating tears." A smile had spread across her face.
"And the Ferris wheel stopping. And floating pegasi. I've been dreaming this whole time.
Pieces of the sky started to evaporate, leaving behind nothing but black. The ground down below, the clouds, the roller coasters, everything was being sucked into the void of nothingness.
In a matter of minutes, the Ferris wheel couch carrying the father and daughter was floating in total oblivion.
"I'm waking up," the mare said, while staring down into the abyss. "Aren't I?"
The zebra sighed.
"Yes. You are," he admitted.
"Am I lucid dreaming, or something? Or am I legitimately crazy? I'm dreaming, I know, and I'm completely in control of myself," she examined her hoof, then banged it against the carriage. A surge of pain rushed up her foreleg. "And everything seems so real."
"You'll understand, soon enough, dear," assured the zebra.
"And how do you," she paused, making a point of correcting herself. "I, know that?"
The zebra thought for a second. Then he smiled.
"I can't tell you that, right now." Oblivion began to take him, as well. It spread from his legs, to his waist, till he was but a floating neck and head. "Just remember this, you are a very special filly. There is absolutely nothing you can't do."
The floating head of the zebra began to disappear, once more. "You hear me, nothing! Remember that, and there will be absolutely nothing that you can't overcome. Remember. BitterSweet is faltered by no pony. Remember."
With that, the head disappeared, leaving BitterSweet alone in Ferris wheel couch, floating in nothingness. Well, at least for a few more seconds.
Knock, knock!
BitterSweet woke up with a start. A knock on the door had awoken her from her slumber.
"Oh Sweetie!" called a familiar voice. "It's seven o'clock!"
The voice was ancient, and carried a heavy Arabic accent.
The door opened a crack, and an old white earthpony's head poked through.
"Morning, Nanny SnowShu." BitterSweet greeted the old mare. SnowShu had a whte coat and a light blue mane. Her tail was discolored and covered in gray and brown stains, much like a mop head, which was what the maid often used it for.
"Good morning, Sweetie," Nanny SnowShu smiled. "You wanted me to wake you at seven, yes?"
BitterSweet remembered this detail. She had to go pick up her more medications from the pharmacy today. As she did every four months.
"Ah, yeah, I remember," BitterSweet responded as she rolled out of bed. "Thanks."
"No worries, my child." They weren't related, but BitterSweet was used to Nanny SnowShu calling her her child. The old maid seemed to call everything her child.
"Youm sa'eed," Nanny SnowShu grinned, speaking in a tongue more comfortable to her. Have a nice day.
"Anti kadālik," BitterSweet responded in suit. You, too.
With that, Nanny SnowShu slipped out of the room, leaving BitterSweet alone in her room. Now in solitude, Bittersweet began to prepare for the day. She brushed her teeth, bathed, and combed her mane. When she completed the daily routine of most ponies, BitterSweet opened her medicine cabinet.
There wasn't much out of the ordinary inside. Pain killers, sleeping pills, cough serums. What you'd expect inside a drug cabinet. Besides the small brown bag. The bag was laced closed and had a stamp naming the medications stored inside and their ingredients. Hyredious felinginis. Or depression pills, as she and most ponies would have referred to them as.
BitterSweet grabbed the bag. Slowly, she unwound the red thread, holding the bag closed. Inside were the pills. Only four were there. Half green. Half white. BitterSweet pulled one out and stare at it. She sighed.
"To liver poisoning," she mumbled to herself. She popped the thing in her mouth. It was bitter, to say the least. Slowly, she swallowed.
BitterSweet let out a second sigh and braced herself for the pill back lash.
Three.
Two. She blinked.
One.
BitterSweet body exploded into pain. She felt her brain twist and turn. She felt a thousand needles pierce her chest. Her eyes stung. Her nose twitched. Her knees spazzed. Her muscles ached. It wasn't a pleasant five seconds. But she had experienced worse.
The pain lasted for at most a second. Afterwards, the pain disappeared. she felt nothing. Just a fading headache. She shook it off. Another day in the life of a depressed mad mare, thought BitterSweet, rubbing her temples.
BitterSweet trotted out of her room.
"Mom, I'm off to the pharmacy!" she informed as she went down the stairs. "Be back at twelve!"
"Sweetie! Please, just wait a moment," a voice called out in response. Much like Nanny SnowShu, she had the hint of an accent. "Sweetie, please! Let's just talk this out, please? Just for a moment?"
BitterSweet continued down the stairs, now putting some haste in her steps. She knew what the conversation would be about. And she wanted no part of it. Then a unicorn stepped into the base of the stairs. The unicorn had a black mane, not unlike BitterSweet's, tied in single short ponytail. Her coat was a light brown, also like Bittersweet's. But, she was older, and her eyes were a a dark orange, contrasting with BitterSweet's light blue ones. But, all in all, they looked almost identical. They could very well pass off as sisters. But they weren't. The older mare was her mother.
"We need to talk," Bittersweet's mother stated firmly. About Prance. Soon."
BitterSweet groaned. She didn't even want to think about Prance. She could think of so many other things she'd rather do with her time than go off to some foreign country. Alone. With her disabled step father.
"Seriously, Sweetie. You can't live your entire life hating him," her mother reasoned.
"Why not?" BitterSweet joked. Her mother replied with one of her death stares. That wiped the grin off her face.
"I don't hate him," BitterSweet said, getting more serious. "But we both know I'm never gonna grow to like him. In the way you two want me, anyhow."
"Well, you could at least start by get to the state of liking him you implied." she proposed. "Because both of us know your'e not there yet."
Bittersweet sighed, evading her mother's eyes, trying to come up with a response.
"Fine." she conceded. "Fine, okay? You win. We'll talk. Just..."
She trailed off.
"Just later. I need to go grab my meds."
BitterSweet's mother smiled.
"There is getting through to you. Never thought I'd see the day. We'll talk once you get back."
"See you then," said BitterSweet, as she passed her mother and walked out the front door.
She breathed out, shaking her head. Now she had to think about Prance. If liver poisoning didn't kill her soon enough, than the stress was gonna push her over the edge. Oh well. She could always push the thoughts to the back of her mind. It was starting to get pretty crowded back there.
Out the front door, BitterSweet went. Behind her was the family mansion. It stood four stories tall, overlooking a cliff overlooking the Bread Sea.
An old iron bar fence surrounded the property. Rows of statues lined the walkway leading from the front gate to the mansion door, displaying ponies, griffins, and even zebras supposedly of the Tread family name. Or so Tread Slow claimed. This claim did come from the same politician who claimed to have protected an old lady on the street from a mugging as a young stallion. The burglar-to-be, old lady, and at least three bystanders came out in public, denouncing his claim, and instead communicating a story of the future senator running and screaming in terror, as the old lady beat the burglar to a bloody pulp, with medical records and scars as proof. Tread Slow narrowly saved his seat the next term.
BitterSweet slid her key card through a machine beside the front gate entrance. The gate opened, permitting her passage. She walked through. The gate closed behind her as she passed. Damn, being rich was cool, sometimes.
BitterSweet continued down the dirt path leading to her parent's place to the side walk. She trotted to a carriage stop. In the pad out stretched of the metal pole. She punched in the address of her wanted destination. St. BroadStone Blvd. She also punched in some other statistic useful to the carriage drivers. Double time? Yes. Passengers? One. Etcetera, you get the idea.
Her request filed, she sat at the bench conveniently placed besides the carriage stop. Carriages were never a long wait in Chruchev. BitterSweet sat there, waiting for her ride to arrive.
While she waited, she soon became aware of a peculiar earthpony, sat across the street from her, also at a bench. The stallion, BitterSweet could tell that much, was whispering into a phone, by the looks of it in the midst of an argument. He'd look over at her every so often, in between dialogue. Almost as if he was talking about her.
But, that wasn't the weirdest part. BitterSweet had never seen anypony like him before. He sorta looked like an Equestrian, but his aqua green coat and his deep blue mane were so... glossy. He almost looked like a living, breathing gem.
Bittersweet banished the thought to the back of her mind as her carriage rolled down the street. It was a tight squeeze, but it fit well.
The carriage stopped in front of the bench. The driver was Saddle Arabian, very young with a dark gray coat and short green hair, topped by a cap. He wore a blue and white suit, the mandatory attire of a carriage driver in the state of Aslam. It wasn't uncommon to see young Arabians taking up cheap labor jobs. It was a pity. She'd even seen full grown stallions without Cutie Marks, working the carriages.
Her parents always used to pay the drivers double, feeling sorry for the miserable ponies. Most of the drivers knew or recognized them and would greet them as they drove them around. On time, two drivers came to pick BitterSweet and her father up at the same time and broke out into a fight, determined to get the extra pay. They walked, that day. Tread Slow absolutely despised the practice though, claiming it weakened the lower classes and somehow hurt the national economy and spewed other random political nonsense. Her mother eventually stopped doing it around him. But BitterSweet still carried on the tradition.
"Wuh. One. St. BroadStone?" the driver stuttered. He probably didn't speak much Common, which also wasn't uncommon among the lower class of Saddle Arabia.
"Yes." BitterSweet confirmed, as she jumped into the carriage. With that, she was off to the pharmacy.
It was a ten minute ride. It was normally at least fifteen or twenty minutes to St. Broad from her house. BitterSweet spaced the entire time, and was pleasantly surprised to have arrived earlier than expected. The driver must have been new, not recognizing her. Most of them knew her and would often make their best attempt to woo her into paying them extra, occasionally even out right asking for extra pay. But this one was either uninformed or just didn't care.
"We are here." the driver said, shakily. "Four bits?"
Instead, BitterSweet handed over eight bits.
The driver looked at the bits with wide eyes. But, then he shook his head.
"I can not take your bits. It is too much."
Bittersweet shook her head, smiling.
"Kalad Fady." BitterSweet responded. Non Sense.
The young stallion looked at the unicorn, trying to come up with an argument. Eventually, he bowed slightly.
"Shukran Gidann. Sahab el-kheir." Thank you so very much. Have a good morning.
With that, he trotted off slowly, looking back at the unicorn, till he turned a street corner and was gone.
BitterSweet walked down the street. She passed the liquor store. A convenience store. The sofa and quill store. Finally, she reached her destination. The town pharmacy.
BitterSweet went in through the door. The building was small, racks of drugs lined the walls. The store was quite empty. A single mare with a dull pink coat and ruby red hair looked through sleeping pills on the right side. Across the store, there was a reception desk that three pharmacists sat behind to give advice to buyers on different medications to purchase. And deal our prescription meds to the ponies who needed them. Like BitterSweet.
She walked up to one of the pharmacists. She was an Equestrian earth pony. She had a white coat and pure blonde hair with a welcoming smile.
"Hello, BitterSweet," she greeted, recognizing the mare. "We've been expecting you."
"Hey, Joy." BitterSweet replied, emulating the mare's warm grin.
"How has that cousin of yours been?"
BitterSweet smile quickly faded at the reminder.
"He... he died. Three weeks ago." Bittersweet’s heart sank with those words. "Freak toaster explosion. Pretty ironic, being stationed in Yemain, and all." Thinking of her dead put her into a state she hadn't been in for a while. She'd been pretty good about her attitude and outlook, as her doctor had told her. But, she couldn't keep the thoughts out of her mind.
"I'm so sorry BitterSweet," Pharmacist Joy apologized. "I mean, it's just such a huge shock! I had no idea!" She and BitterSweet's cousin Sweet Hoof went to Chrunchev University together, the same BitterSweet attended herself now. They were shared a room together and became life long close friends. But, the Nationals called and Sweet Hoof answered, becoming a field medic. He was quickly deployed into Yemain, scheduled for three years of deployment. He was on his second year when he died. He was planning on serving another three years with the National Armed Forces and then take up work as a surgeon.
"It's alright, Joy," Bittersweet reassured, putting on a forced smile. "I just need those pills so I can be on my way."
The mare blushed in embarrassment.
"Oh my! How unprofessional of me! Of course, darling!"
Joy ducked into the room behind her for a moment, and came back with a bag, identical to the one in BitterSweet's medicine cabinet.
"Here you are," Pharmacist Joy said, passing the bag to BitterSweet.
"Now, remember," she continued. "Only one per day. Drink lots of water. Don't drink alcohol. And if you ever piss black, then see your'e doctor right away, because that is a sign of a rare liver disease that may lead to death."
"Gotcha," said BitterSweet as she grabbed the bag. "Speaking of which, do you have a bathroom?"
"Room to the left."
BitterSweet stored the meds in her purse and quickly trotted off into the bath room. Before she could even walk into the room, the door swung open. Out stepped a cream colored pegasus. Her hair was brown, neat and short, crowned by a black fedora. On her flank was a tire, leaving behind it a trail of fire.
The pegasus looked at BitterSweet, and for a split second, a look of shock took over her face. Even a bit of fear. The look quickly melted and her face turned... blank. Unreadable. She trotted out, pretending to never have noticed the brown unicorn, putting haste into her steps.
BitterSweet stood there confused for a second and watched the pegasus walk out the door. She quickly pushed away the weird encounter and walked into the latrines. No mare's or stallions's bathrooms. Just a bunch of stalls. Public bathrooms sucked now a days.
She thought as she walked. Jeez. Today couldn't get any weirder, could it? But it could. She walked up to the second stall to the second stall. She reached for the handle, and realized that her hooves were in some sort of liquid.
“Eeyuck,” she said, under her breathing. Public bathrooms really suck, she thought. Who knows what I just stepped in?
She looked down, to learn exactly what she was stepping in. It wasn't piss or crap water. It was green. Bright green.
What did I just step in? she thought. Suddenly, BitterSweet was afraid to look into the stall. But, curiosity won the day as her hoof stretched against her will to the stall door handle. Slowly, BitterSweet opened the door. Creak by creak, she revealed the scene it hid. And what a scene it was.
Forget toilets. She nearly peed herself right there! Sitting on the stall was a black mass. It had hooves and a build similar to a ponies, but it had clear, circular wings. A big horn in the center of it's forehead. Two large fangs hung out of it's mouth. Also notable, it lacked hair of any kind. It had a glossy black outer skin, covering it's entire body. BitterSweet knew right away that this was no pony.
It was a changeling. There were plenty of those in Saddle Arabia. BitterSweet knew quite a few of them. In general, nice ponies. Err, bug... things. But this one was different. There were more holes in his body and appendages. Sure, every changeling had some holes, but this one had a ton! It was like a knight of Olde had a field day on him. But, most out of the ordinary of all had to be the the fact that he was dead. He had a small hole, right between his eyes, where a small ooze of green liquid spilled out. Behind him, a large splatter of green liquid covered the white brick wall. The liquid was all over the floor and the even the ceiling. It was everywhere.
BitterSweet was unpleasantly surprised.
“Shit!” she mumbled aloud, stepping back in shock. She then began to scream. “Hey! Help! Joy, Help!”
She quickly attracted the attention of Joy and one of the other pharmacists behind the reception desk. After the group gawked at the scene around them, the police was informed and the pharmacists were sent home early. The pharmacy transformed to a crime scene as reporters and bystanders stood around, curious to know what had happened.
BitterSweet stood outside of the pharmacy, as well, watching the scene take form. She shook her head in disbelief and was preparing to leave when she heard felt a hoof on her back.
"Hey there," a deep, masculine voice called, "Mind if I asked you some question."
She turned to find a blue Equestrian unicorn with blue and white hair behind her. His cutie mark was of a magnifying glass hovering over a multicolored pie chart. He wore a trench coat and sun glasses. He flashed a badge, providing proof of his affiliation with the Chrunchev Police Department.
"Is this a good time for you? We could schedule this later at the station."
"No, now's fine," BitterSweet said. The pharmacists must have told the police that she'd found the body. So, they obviously had to question her. Just act cool and give the police ponies all the information to find whoever did this.
"Great. Follow me, if you will."
He turned, passing through the crowd. BitterSweet followed close behind him.
He led her to an alley down the street. He looked around to see if they had any unwanted spectators. His horn lit up, as he used a telekinesis spell to pull a phone out of his coat pocket.
“BitterSweet, correct?” the detective interrogated. She nodded. The detective looked down at his phone. “It says here you're the daughter of Honey Berry and Tread Slow. Very wealthy family." he began. "Biological daughter of Honey Berry and the late Maximus Hinds. Terribly sorry."
"Thank you," BitterSweet replied.
The detective went on.
"Churchev University law student. Life long honors student. Active community service member. And a 'Magical Proficiency' certificate. Impressive."
"Thank you," she smiled.
"It also says you have a special case of chronicle depression."
BitterSweet's smile disappeared. She nodded once more, confirming this.
The detective exhaled slowly. Then continued questioning.
“Did you know the changeling? At all?”
“No.”
“When did you hear gunshots?”
“There weren't any.”
The detective looked at her funny.
"Did you hear any loud popping sounds?" he continued to pressed her for information.
"There weren't any," she insisted, determined to give her best description of the events that took place. The more accurate their data was, the more likely they'd catch somepony responsible. "I found the changeling dead."
The detective didn't look amused. He leaned forward, inches away from BitterSweet.
“If I asked the other witnesses, would they say the same thing?”
“Yes. Most likely. Unless they have really bad hearing.” BitterSweet was telling the truth, but this police pony wasn't buying it, which frustrated her.
The detective withdrew a little, still staring right at her, and took of his glasses, revealing eyes a similar color to his coat.
“How do you expect me to believe that story? Somepony firing a gun in a small building and the people working in the same building never hearing anything or seeing that there's a dead changeling in the bathroom of their place of work?”
“Magic,” she said, making a rainbow gesture with her hooves above her head.
“Right then. Let’s move on.” The detective levitated a file out of his saddle bag and passed it to BitterSweet. “Look at this photo for me, please.”
She looked inside, and there was a single, black and white image of a pony. BitterSweet was surprised to realize that it was a photo of herself. Same eyes, same mane. Even scarier, BitterSweet remembered posting this picture exact of herself three days ago on her HoofDex.
"Familiar, ain't she?" the detective joked. "Flip it around."
She looked over to him, then back at the picture. Then she she turned the picture over, as instructed.
On the back were instructions written in red ink. It had her name, confirming it was, indeed, a photo of her. It also listed her sex, age, height, weight, coat color, race, eye color, and a description of her cutie mark. An orange and lime fused together, forming a yin yang symbol.
BitterSweet looked below the description of herself. She skimmed over a few words, looking for information. Wanted Ali...
Her eyes quickly darted back to those words. Capture order. Wanted alive and unharmed by the end of the month. It listed her home address, her school, her workplace. Her favorite restaurant! Who could get something like this? BitterSweet couldn't think up a response to this. She was stupefied. She looked up at the detective for answers, lost for words.
"Found that on the dead changeling's body. Along with a gun. And a sedative."
BitterSweet just stood there, unable to reply. She couldn't believe it. Someone was after her, of all ponies.
The detective continued, his voice taking a softer, more soothing tone.
"The changeling, based on his blood color, obviously didn't have his necessary blood transfusions," he informed.
By law, changelings had to have a single blood transfusion to reside in most countries. This transfusion would prevent them from being able to feast upon emotions, as they are so famously known for doing.
"If he did, his blood would've been blue," he continued. "Based on the shade of green, he had also obviously been using illegal crystallized emotions. Straight from the C.R.H, it'd seem. And loads of the stuff. Straight of the bat, we can infer that he isn't exactly some creme of the crop citizen."
BitterSweet came back from her coma. She formed a question in her head, still filled with disbelief. And then she asked it.
"Who is he? Why does he have my picture? Why is he dead?"
The detective though for a second. After a couple seconds, he shrugged.
"Yah got me. Lots of holes and not enough concrete facts. If you want my insight, he's probably a thug. Working with some terrorists down South. He was most likely gonna to kidnap you for ransom. But who knows?" This description did little to ease her.
"You're pretty lucky. He was probably moving in for the take down today." He went on. "By the way, you wouldn't have happened to spot anypony suspicious at the pharmacy?"
BitterSweet thought for a moment. Did I? Then she remembered. Yes, I did!
"Yeah," she nodded. "A cream pegasus. Equestrian. Brown mane," she thought back, spewing as many details she could remember. "Big black fedora. Walked out of the bathroom when I walked in. She left in a hurry. That's all I saw."
The detective nodded as he looked back down at his phone. He then grabbed it out of the air and shoved it back into his bag. The magic around his horn faded.
"Thanks for your time, Miss. We'll call you tomorrow for an interview at the station when we've gotten more facts on the changeling and this pegasus you mentioned," he informed. "We'll call your parents and tell them everything. Now, you go home now. Get some rest or something."
"Oh yeah," He exclaimed, just as BitterSweet had begun to go on her way. He pulled out a white card, and handed it to BitterSweet. "My card."
Detective Digi Pony, it read, featuring the detective's photo and number. "Call me if anything happens. Like if you feel like you're being watched or followed or something. No matter how small or dumb you think it is."
BitterSweet nodded. She walked off, taking a single look back at Detective Digi Spark. He was just watching her head off. He waved.
BitterSweet rounded a corner and got back onto the sidewalk. The crowd was still as large as it was earlier, and growing. She didn't bother to look back.
BitterSweet took a carriage home. She was so distracted; she even forgot to pay the stallion extra, as she always did. The stallion pulling wasn't expecting extra pay, so he didn't mind.
What the hay is going on? She thought to herself.
BitterSweet walked home from the carriage stop, looking around for anything out of the ordinary, all paranoid.
She spotted the same glossy pony, sitting at the same bench. He was staring at her. But as soon as he realized that she was staring back, he quickly looked down at his phone, stealing a glance every few seconds.
Eventually, he speedily, albeit clumsily, trotted away, tripping up once as he walked off.
No way that was a coincidence. He couldn't have sat there all day and then walk off as soon as I came home. What's going on? Bittersweet thought, watching him walk off. He had to be a spotter, or something.
She turned to face her front, pondering whether or not to call the number the detective gave her and tip him off to her glossy stalker.
I'll just do it later when I get home, she said. BitterSweet was pretty good about procrastinating smartly. It's always seem as if she never did any work but still pass every class. In reality, she did most things ahead of time and save other things to do just before a deadline. She worked relatively good under pressure and one hay of a speed reader.
She continued down the side walk, went through the gate, then into her house. She staggered up the stairs, and fell into bed.
Today was one helluva day, by BitterSweet’s standards. First having to discuss going to Prance, then seeing some shimmering pony, then picking up medications, then witnessing a murder, then being interrogated by a police pony. She was just thrilled to be able to end the day with a bit of slumber. And that she had lived to see the day through. Seriously, she wondered, how did so much go wrong in… what was the time, even?
She peeked at her room’s clock.
1:45 P.M.
She’d only been gone for about six hours? It felt like it’d been a week since she woke up and set out to pick up her meds!
BitterSweet fell back into bed, exhausted. Now, all she wanted to do was rest. It seemed as if at least that would end up being straight forward. Slowly, but steadily, she began to drift of into sleep. Peace, at last.
Knock, knock.
Her eyes flew open.
What now? She exclaimed in her mind, annoyed.
“Sweetie! Sweetie? You in there?” the voice of her mother called, muffled by the door, somewhat.
Oh yeah. She remembered. Her mom was home today. Her hoof connected with her forehead.
"Ugh."
