“I don’t understand,” I murmured, slamming the door behind me, a phone up to my ear. “How could anybody do that?”
“I don’t know,” my girlfriend sighed from the other side of the line. “It’s like they don’t even have a mother.”
I snorted at the sound of those words. “Whatever, Marilynn,” I replied. “I just—I need a moment to think all this through.”
“Aww,” cooed Marilynn. “Okay, babe. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, she smooched the phone—bidding me farewell all the while.
I smooched back and murred, “I love you.”
“I love you, too!”
I listened as the phone cut me off, leaving me with an empty signal. Releasing another sigh, I put the phone in my pocket and—hoping to get some reading done—pulled out my Kindle Fire. Let’s just get this over with.
I was assigned to read “Oedipus Rex” for my English class. Too bad the whole story itself was too boring and screwed up to be considered enjoyable! There was a reason why I was falling behind in my English studies.
Why did my teacher have to assign me such tedious tasks? Why couldn’t she have given us something different for a change? Something fun?
It was while starting up my tablet when my Facebook notifications caught my eye. My eyebrows raised, I opened up the app and caught sight of what I still believe was the harshest thing ever mentioned about me.
“If you see Tyler Connors, remind him about his ‘five centimeters.’”
Those words—whether factual or not—caused my heart to ache in complete disbelief. How could they? I wondered, nearly failing to keep my tears inside.
Marilynn was right, I thought, my heart growing heavy. Whoever made this doesn’t have a mother!
As a storm of great emotion raged within my heart, I heard as the boom of thunder raged outside, making my spine tingle. It’s like the whole world feels the same.
Another bolt of thunder and lightning was thrown down at the ground—as a ring from my doorbell spread through the house. Startled by the sound of my doorbell at this hour, I picked myself from my chair and walked up to the front door. At the same time I thought, It’s probably a Jehovah’s witness or a hobo.
Laughing at the thought, I opened the door—only to witness as the city stared back at me. “What the hell?” I wondered, feeling as if somebody was just pulling a prank on me. I looked to my left—but nothing was there. I looked to my right—but nothing was there.
I looked down—and there stood what was perhaps the most beautiful think I’d ever laid eyes on. There before me stood a baby pony, a smile on her face, a horn protruding from her head. A white coat covered the little creature from nose to tail.
In the midst of my awe, I realized there was something stuck in her hair—her teal and pink hair. Almost like a puppy would do, the pony rushed up to me, her front hooves anchored to my knees.
Now closer to the little pony than ever before, I caught sight of the word Hello printed onto the note in her hair. Growing curious, I pulled out the little letter.
Hello,
My name is Celestia. I have been abandoned here and I need a mother. Will you please help me?
Upon pulling the note away from my face, I witnessed once more as the pony smiled up at me. She needs a mother, I realized, my pupils shrinking.
It was then when I heard a small rumble coming from the pony—the likes of which was followed by a moan. “Are you hungry?” I asked, taking a careful step forward.
The poor creature responded with a nod. With a stomach devoid of all traces of food, she walked past me and into my room. Noticing as she smelled around for traces of food—like a dog—I closed the front door.
She understands me, I realized. A pony understands the words I’m saying. Oh—what was her name again?
In confusion, I stared down at the note once again. “Celestia?” Her ears perking, the pony shot a look at me. Uh—at least I got her attention.
I could only imagine the hunger itching at her stomach. Without a mother, she probably hasn’t had anything to eat in days. Such a thought made me release a sympathetic sigh.
Drawing my eye over to Celestia, I watched as she glued herself to my refrigerator. She’s so hungry, I thought with a chuckle. Heeding her pleads, I walked past the famished pony and opened the fridge’s door for her.
Her eyes seemed to widen at such a sight—as if she had never seen food within her short life.
What would suit a pony? I wondered, my eyes scanning the refrigerators’ contents. Out of all the junkfood and garbage stuffed in its belly, I found a bag of baby carrots—the likes of which remained unopened. I guess that’ll work, I thought with a sigh.
Pulling out the bag and closing the door, I noticed as Celestia licked her lips—feeling ravenous for the little orange rods. Before I could even receive a chance to open the bag, Celestia placed her hoof on it, pulling on it all the while. I felt somewhat stunned by her hunger.
Fortunately for Celestia, the bag ripped open like tissue paper—revealing its delectable contents. Not even giving me a chance to feed her, the hunger-stricken pony buried her face into the bag, munching on its contents all the while.
Such a sound—hearing her teeth crushing all those delicate carrots—was a heavenly sound. She’s so beautiful, I thought, resisting the urge to cuddle up against her. And she came here because— I paused in the midst of my thoughts. –because she doesn’t have a mother.
Once she was finished eating, Celestia took a warm look up at me, her eyes glistening in sheer joy. Not a single word spawned from her mouth—but just by looking into her eyes, I was able to make out the words, Thank you.
“No problem,” I sighed in response.
Without warning, the filly rushed up to my side, burying her face in my shirt. Thank you, thank you, thank you! a silent presence cried.
She was expecting a hug; I just knew it. Unable to resist, I wrapped my arms around the pony. It was during this time when I felt something wet dripping into my clothes. Curious, I pulled Celestia away and noticed a most peculiar sight: the baby pony was crying tears of joy.
I wiped a tear from under her eye, my smile growing warm as I felt the hot liquid washing over my finger. In the midst of Celestia’s crying and sniffling, I murmured, “Don’t cry, my little pony.”
