My body is shaking. This cold is unbearable. I try to wrap myself in my own warmth, rubbing my body all over. It doesn't work. It only serves to remind me that I only have myself. I hate myself. Myself is an evil being that should freeze in this lonely frigidness. I am told to make friends. All my friends run away. No. Not my friends. Friends care for you. Friends give you warmth. I have no warmth.
Why? Why am I so alone? Because I deserve it. I'm mean. I shoo others away. Ever since I was a foal I drove others away. I hated the assaults, the ridicule, the laughing, so I let my hatred for those around me become me. I hate it. Thinking about it makes me sad. It makes me cry. The world is so cold and full of hate.
I live here alone. Where no one can find me. I'm making it easier for them to not care about me. They cannot care for what they do not knows exists.
Rain assaults the outside while I remain inside. It's quiet in here. The falling tears of the sky comfort me. Their sound helps me sleep. I like to think they are tears meant for me.
That would be too generous.
Here I lay. On the stone floor. Thinking of comfort to keep me warm. What about my family? They loved me. And this shelter. It beats drowning outside. My cutie mark. I remember how I got it. I had a party in its honor. Ponies were nice then.
Those ponies. Those evil, two faced liars. I was put in a trash can the next day. Why? Because I had fun. I'm not allowed to have fun? Or enjoy what I had? Apparently not.
Whatever.
Those days are behind me. Well, not really I guess. I still lay in the same spot, rubbing my body to get warm. It doesn't work. It never works. It's already the middle of the night. I'm not getting sleep. Again. Well, no point attempting a useless venture.
I decide to go into town, in the rain. I never go to this town. I want to like ponies, I don't want the rejection and lies anymore. I know no one is here now. I don't care. I want to see what others are so lucky to have. Homes, food, families, friends. I walk through the streets, my body shaking and dripping from the rain. As I think of the happy families within the buildings, something happens. My heart sinks and my emotions come out. I could be crying, but the rain is hiding it. I sit there, in the center of the town, letting my feelings show to no one. No one is around to see. No one is around to comfort. No one cares.
I sit there for what feels like an hour before I depart. Better be gone before the town awakes and sees me.
Light.
I see it, coming from behind me. I freeze. I begin to panic. Caught. So long I’ve gone and not been seen, and it’s all over. Thoughts race through my head. Too fast to make out anyone in particular. I think I hear someone calling out for me, but why would they. No one calls out to me. They usually walk up to me to belittle me. Is she trying to scare me? Well, it worked. I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do. I want to run, but my body tells me to stay. I want to scare her away, but I can’t find my voice. She calls out again, only it’s closer. Too close. And her voice is gentle.
I chance a glance to the side and see her. She is wearing a raincoat and umbrella. Too dark to make out colors. Her face…it’s sincere. I haven’t seen a demeanor like this since, my parents. In fact, she resembled them stunningly. I’m shocked. And scared. It’s a trick. It has to be. No pony can be like this to a stranger. It’s impossible.
She tells me to follow her. She is heading back to an open building. The light is inviting. It’s too simple. There’s no motive.
No point.
I don’t want to go, but I do. My body responds to the glow like a bug. She holds the door open to allow me entry. This is the trick. It has to be. I’m going to step onto the threshold and the door is going to hit me in the face. I look inside for a few seconds, then at the door. I can see the mare giving me a weird look. She asks if I’m going to come in. Then I strike.
“You think I’m an idiot, just like everyone else, don’t you? I know what you’re planning. As soon as I approach the door, you’re gonna shut it on me and probably laugh at your hilarious joke.”
Her bewildered look intensifies. Then it was her turn.
“I beg your pardon, but I am not one to pull selfish pranks, especially to somepony in grief. In the middle of the night, no less. Now, are you going to come inside or not?”
I hesitate. Can a pony really be this hospitable? I take a step forward. She’s still there. Another. She raises an eyebrow, but remains unmoved. I shut my eyes and take a couple more steps. I can feel my hooves tremble beneath me. She’s going to shut the door on me any second now. I can sense it. I feel like turning to run, to get the upper hoof.
*click*
My eyes shoot open. But, something’s off. I look around. It’s a dress shop. Outfits line the walls on hangers and a small stage in the middle.
Wait…
…
…
…
I’m not outside. I’m inside. This mare let me inside her home? For no reason? I turn around and find she’s removing her rain coat and umbrella and putting them by the door.
“There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it,” she says. I don’t respond. How could I. I don’t think this has ever happened.
She exits the room and returns a moment later, carrying a towel in her magic glow. I can now see she is a lovely white unicorn with purple hair and a cutie mark made up of diamonds. She holds the towel in front of me.
What is going on? Does she expect me to take it? Why would she be this nice? What does she have to gain? Does she not know I’m not allowed to be shown kindness without alternative motives?
Curiosity gets the better of me. My hoof goes towards the towel. My eyes clamp shut, my body shakes. I’m expecting something. Something bad. I don’t know what. I don’t want to know what. I just want it over with so I can go back to my cave. This was such a bad idea. Why did I come to this town? Why did I follow this mare to her home? Why did I stick around?
Soft.
My hoof is touching something soft. I peek. She rested the towel on my hoof. Her smile is warm and tender. I bring the towel closer and inspect it. It was so fascinating. It was just an ordinary towel. No stench, no mildew, no holes. I look at the mare. My face must have been odd. She was giggling. Why was she giggling? I ask her. She tells me it was cute seeing someone look so confused at an ordinary towel.
So it was an ordinary towel? She doesn't mean any ill will? More thoughts race through my head as I stare at that ordinary towel. My first gift in a long time. And it was for nothing. Nothing at all.
She says something, but I don’t listen. I’m far too fascinated with my gift. The next time she asks, she makes sure she had my attention. I think.
She asked if I wanted some tea. I must have nodded absent mindedly because when I snapped out of my stupor, she was in the kitchen with a kettle on the stove.
The towel is still in my hooves. I finally decide to use it. I don’t get completely dry, but close enough.
She calls me to the kitchen. She has a couple of cups set at a small table. She tells me to take a seat. I do and she serves the tea. I continue to cradle the towel, even when she says to put it down. I don’t want to. I don’t want to give up my only gift. Her expression shows concern, but she lets me keep it.
She sips her tea. I just look at mine. The drink steams inside the cup. She tells me it will help me relax. What does she mean? Why do I need to relax?
I smell it. Then hesitantly take a taste. It was…good? When was the last time I had something taste good? That someone gave me, no less.
She begins to ask me questions. Who I was. Where I was from. Who my family was. My friends. My hobbies. I answer none of them. There are too many thoughts in my head. I stare at my cup on the table. It is half empty now. I chance a glance at the mare. She looks concerned again. More questions run through my head. I feel like crying. So much confusion. So much mystery. Do I even want to know the answers to any of them?
I don’t know.
We finish our tea in silence. She takes me to the next room and says to wait. I do. I trust this mare. I don’t know why. I wish I did. Life has been so sad and now something happy has happened. I liked it.
She returns with a blanket and a pillow and lays it out on a long couch. She says I could sleep there tonight.
…
…
…
The invite to her home. The towel. The tea. And now a bed!?
I break down. This is too much. Tears flow from my eyes. I use my towel to hide my face. I must look so pathetic right now. She walks over…and hugs me? I hug her back. I don’t even realize it. I continue to sob into her. She comforts me, rubbing my back as I unleash my feelings at that moment.
I am pathetic.
I hear myself ask a simple question. The base that held my tower of questions.
“Why?”
“Why what, darling?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Her response was simple. Clear. Elegant. And confusing.
“Helping those in need is what ponies do, dear.”
The response made no sense to me. I don't question it, though. I liked her answer. It is a comforting thought, even though I've never experienced it until tonight.
I apologize for what I did. She says to forget about it. How can I? How can I forget about all she did for me this night? Why would I want to forget? More questions. All pointless.
She takes me to my makeshift bedding on the couch and asks if I’m alright. I nod. She says goodnight and turns the light off before disappearing around the corner. I snuggle with my towel as I lay on that couch. My eyes wander to the clock by the wall.
12:42
I’m 10 years old now. Happy Birthday to me, I guess
…
Warmth. I feel warmth.
Author's Note
This is not a reflection of personal experiences or pent up emotions. This is simply an on the spot idea I decided to throw at a wall. If you're reading this, I can only hope that you made it through the whole thing and that you enjoyed it.
