I don't understand. Why are you doing this? Don't you know who I am? Aren't I your friend? I never thought you, of all ponies, would be capable of hurting anypony!
Whenever I looked at you, I saw an elegant woman that had everything together. Was I wrong about you this whole time? Did I do something to make you mad? If I did, I want to turn around and say I'm sorry to the cellist that I could call my friend, but my body won't stop running. It knows that if I stop, I'll die! I don't want to! I'm scared, I'm so scared. I've lost track of how long I've been running for.
These streets twist and turn so many times, it's like a maze. My fear is that my next turn will be my last. I want to scream. I want somepony, anypony, to hear me and save me, but once again, my body is focused on one thing, and that is running. I fear for the grey pony chasing me. I can't bring myself to believe that this is who she really is. Doesn't she know that this is sick?!
Dead end. I hear her hoof steps slowly clicking behind me. I have so many questions to ask but all I can think of is, why me? Tears began streaming town my face as she calmly approached me. Her body was siluhetted by the moonlight, all I could see was the dark figure as she took the hammer she brought with her and raised it high above her head as she reared back.
The next thing I felt was an unimaginable amount of pain shooting through my leg. My vision turned white as I felt myself falling to the ground. When my vision returned, I looked down to see that my left foreleg was bent at the knee in a way that shouldn't be possible.
I looked back up just in time to see her raise the hammer again. This time, she struck me in the side. The force knocked me off my hooves. Everything seemed to move in slow motion at that point while I was tumbling through the air. I couldn't control my body, I was in too much pain to brace for the landing and when I finally hit the ground, the wind got knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe. My ribcage was smashed, at least one or two ribs pierced my lungs, and my organs were ruptured. How strong could she possibly be? Theres no way a pony with her figure could be able to cause so much damage, could it? With what little strength I had left, I focused my fading vision through the cracked purple lenses to see her. She reached down and took off my glasses and put her face up against mine. She stared deep into my eyes and I stared deep into hers. They were empty.
The entire audience was dead silent, if it weren't for my cello, I could have even heard their hearts beating. I could feel their eyes watching, no movement of mine went unnoticed. I know what they're thinking, it's always the same, and why should this group be any different than the last?
They are drowning out all their thoughts and distractions with my music. I'm certain that somepony in the audience has something going on in their personal lives that requires them to escape their misery. I never understood why ponies feel that way. Actually, I never understood why we, as a species, feel anything at all. The average pony mind is filled with emotions such as joy, sadness, regret, and fear. All of these, I do not understand.
Many years ago, when I was just a filly, I didn't have any friends or toys. My only toys were small animals I found in the forest. I would show the rabbits, and squirrels my mask which didn't hide but instead showed what emotion made them comfortable. Of course it was but a façade. We would play and I got to see how they enjoyed my company. I would eventually become tired of those emotions. I sought knowledge. Not something in a text book, no, I wanted see how something reacts when their life is on the line. I wanted to see the fear in their eyes as their fragile bodies had the life so easily snuffed out. They squealed and squeaked as I tightened my hold on them and they began clawing and biting me, struggling to get free. I would let the animal fight for just a few moments more and then end it. Their fighting ceased and they just lay on the ground motionless and open eyed. I found strange beauty in death. But why was I the only one who saw? Perhaps it was because she was afraid? I still don't know.
As I dragged my bow across the strings, I could see the broken shards of glass and the tears in her eyes. She was shocked, confused, and scared. It was everything I wanted to see in her. She was beatiful before, during, and after my work was done. She was the only pony ever to care about me.
I was only able to drag my bow halfway before guards interrupted my performance. I remember seeing everyone in the room with varying degrees of confusion and fear on their faces. It was breathtaking. The amount of raw emotion in the air was like visible music. But what does it mean? Well, I suppose I have all the time to think about it now. These white walls are just like blank score sheets. Just like you, Vinyl, they're full of potential. But alas, you are not here to take part in my endeavor. There's nothing around me. It's just me in this bright empty space. I feel right at home.
