Knees Weak, Arms Spaghetti.
He misses his mom’s angel hair. Though every pony he has cooked pasta for has said his is perfect, he can’t help but miss his mom’s special angel-hair pasta with an abundance of parmesan cheese sprinkled on it. It has that sweet nostalgia taste to it, like his grandmother’s warm, thick pumpkin pie on a cold Hearth’s Warming Eve.
The teal-coated stallion, Roni, picks up the scalding hot fork out of the boiling water, and shakes some of the spaghetti back into the pot. As he lifts the fork to his mouth, dangling a few strands of pasta, he glances out his kitchen window, to the orange sky.
Pasta wriggles down the pegasus’ throat, leaving Roni wanting more.
Meh. A bit dry. Too crunchy. Needs to soak another minute.
Roni reaches up to one of his many cupboards, and retrieves a plastic blue bowl. He looks down into it, a tiny frown spreading across his mouth.
Maybe... maybe I should have chosen a house near my parents.
Roni’s sad reflection looks back up at him through the shiny yet damaged bowl, and he shakes his head violently, returning his eyes to the boiling pot.
No, that’s ridiculous! I love the forest, and I love this house. Choosing a house in a town I hate just to have my mom’s food? C’mon Roni, shut up. That’s ridiculous.
Setting the old, scratched bowl down next to him, he sticks the fork back in the pot, and lifts another few strands of spaghetti above his mouth.
As he slides them in, a grey hoof wraps around his mouth, covering it entirely.
Roni drops the fork and begins choking, trying to chew his food. His mouth is blocked by the dirty grey hoof, so Roni bites. Hard.
“Agh! Fuck!” The attacker shouts, as the fork clangs on the floor.
The hoof recoils, and Roni quickly reaches for the pot full of boiling water. He turns, wrapping his hoof around the handle.
The face Roni looks into terrifies him. Paralyzes him. The attempted murderer wears half of a skull mask. The other half of his face is painted to match the mask.
Boiling water flies at the intruder, but most hits the stallion’s leather-armoured chest, and quickly dribbles to the floor, along with the steaming pot. Some water does splash onto his ominous face, and on his hooves.
Still slightly choking, Roni runs. His hooves pound loudly on the floor, his heart matching the noise. The Everfree Forest is incredibly dangerous in the early morning, he knows, so he crashes through the living room, and up his stairs. As he reaches the top, he can hear the stallion close behind him.
Rapidly approaching the top of the stairs, Roni spots his glass bookshelf, lined up and down with pictures of him and his family.
He arrives at the top, and frantically attempts to jam his hoof behind the heavy furniture. Before he can, Roni feels a warm hoof wrap around his hind leg, pulling him. Roni breathes even faster, turning to face his death. He stares into blank yellow eyes as he is pulled down the tan, carpeted stairs, kicking as he does so. Roni’s eyes are wide open; scared. The ones he stares into are blank; emotionless; empty. Unnatural.
Landing a frantic kick on the skull-like face, the teal stallion breaks free, and clambers up the stairs once again.
This time, he successfully scrambles a hoof behind the dense, glass shelf, and puts all his weight behind pushing it.
Roni grunts, clenching his eyes, and finally the shelf falls.
CRASH!
Shards fly everywhere as the furniture slides down the stairs, pushing Roni’s attacker.
Roni runs again, towards his bedroom.
A picture frame breaks on its way down the stairs, and the photo within pops out, floating gracefully down to the glass-ridden carpet. It shows a pumpkin patch, with three happy ponies on the middle. A light-green mare with soft, puffy, brown hair is off to the left, her hoof wrapped around a blue stallion, to the right. In the center is a teal colt with a bright smile, resting on a large, plump, pumpkin.
The family drifts down slowly, and lands face down on the floor. They continue staring into the carpet, smiling as they do so.
Blood trails towards the family. It washes over them, staining the carpet and glass that it passes through.
Suddenly, a hoof falls on the photo, crushing the three smiles and wrinkling the happiness.
The skull mask rises from the carpet, the stallion still inside it. Warm, crimson liquid flows from beneath the mask, down the stallion’s grey body.
He steps onto the first step, his eyes now narrowed and determined.
Upstairs, Roni slides into his closet, quickly yet quietly shutting the shutters. The sun still reaches him in there, sending yellowed stripes across face, revealing his wide eyes, his crooked frown, and his flopped ears.
No! What’s happening!? Why?! What does he want?! Why me? Why here? Why now?!
Thump.
His ears perk up. Every miniscule sound is like an earthquake, even his own heart beating in his ears.
Oh, why did I choose here of all places! In the middle of a stupid forest I can’t even run through!
Thump.
Roni breathes faster and shallower.
C’mon Roni get it together... you can get out of this. You can get out of this! All you need to do is... is...
Thump.
His heart pounds out of his chest.
Oh shut up down there! I’m trying to think! I just need to... I need to, um...
Roni looks around the closet, hoping to find a weapon or a brick or just an object that hurts when you’re hit with it. Something. Anything.
Anything but stupid clothes!
Thump.
He looks angrily at the clothes hanging in his closet. The closest to him is his island shirt. A deep shade of blue, like the ocean, scattered with small mounds of sand and sprinkled with palm trees. It reminds him of home. He remembers playing by the dock at low tide in his hometown, building objects with sand or attempting to swim in the seaweed-ridden water of the coast.
Thump.
He remembers the fog rolling in every morning, but he also recalls the few days it didn’t. Those days were his favourite. During low-tide he’d play on the small beach, like always, but unlike most times, a chill didn’t freeze his spine.
Thump.
Roni cradles his head in his hooves.
Mom was right. Dad was right. I should have stayed with them... I could still play in the beach with little colts and fillies, teaching them how to swim.
Thump.
I could still wake up to a glorious smell, and a note from mom that said she went to work, but still made me breakfast.
Thump.
I could still wrap myself in my blankets when it got cold, and feel like a loaf of bread fresh from the oven!
THUMP.
I could still...
THUMP.
I could still enjoy life!
Tears begin forming in his eyes, stinging them.
THUMP.
I...
THUMP!
I...
THUMP!
I could still be alive! I could still hear my family’s voices!
Warm tears stream down the stallion’s face, down his hooves, passing his flank, washing over his cutie mark; a silver cart with plates of pasta stacked on it.
THUMP!
I could still... Why here!? Why now!? Why me?
THUMP!
Why me...
Roni hears the intruder enter his bedroom. Roni hears his hot breaths. Roni hears him snort as he advances in the room.
No!
Roni slams his head up, looking forwards once again.
I can’t let it end like this! I’ve not lived twenty successful years to have it end like this!
He wipes his eyes quickly, and looks up, through the shutters.
Those cold, empty, yellow eyes stare back at him.
Knock.
A grey hoof makes contact with the closet door.
No!
He remembers the coast. He remembers waking up surrounded by chilly air, and snuggling in his blanket. He remembers the light purple walls of his old kitchen, and how his mother used to throw pasta against the wall to check if it was ready.
Knock.
NO!
Roni remembers swimming in the ocean with his few friends. Roni remembers the seaweed tickling his hooves as he splashed in the cold water.
Knock!
No...
He misses the cold air. He misses his family. He misses his coworkers at the restaurant, and the cool breeze of the ocean, and his mom, and his dad, and he misses his home.
KNOCK!
No! Please! Go away!
He misses his mom’s angel hair.
