The Midnight Archives: The Midnight Library of Equestria

It was a dull, cloudy, and drizzly afternoon as Octavia pedaled away from school and into the old part of town. She turned a corner into the street where Mrs. Sparkle lived. She saw Lyra and the others standing there with their bikes on the other side of the road, waiting for her.

        Octavia cycled up to them and stopped.

        Lyra stepped forward. She was holding something in her hoof. It was a chunk of rock -- about the side of her hoof.

        "This is what you're going to throw at the Cat Lady's window," Lyra said.

        Octavia stared at the big rock. "You said pebbles!"

        Lyra shrugged. "So? It's a big pebble," she said. She glanced at the others, who nodded at her. "We've all agreed," Lyra began, "that if you want us to stop picking on you, this is what you have to throw at the Cat Lady's window.But it's up to you of course. You can always chicken out."

        Octavia knew that a rock that size would smash any window it was thrown at. SHe looked from face to face. They all had the same nasty, eager expression. If she refused to throw the rock, the taunts would start up again. If she agreed, they'd get a big kick out of the Cat Lady's window being broken. Either way, Octavia knew right at that moment that she hated and despised the whole bunch of them.

        But she couldn't back out. It was too late for that.

        She took the rock out of Lyra's hoof.

        "Throw it really hard," Lyra said with a mean sparkle in her eye.

        Octavia propped her bike at the curb. The rock felt huge and very heavy in her hoof. Without saying a word, she turned and walked across the street. She just wanted to get it over with.

        The houses were shrouded by tall evergreen tree, and it was gloomy and dark under the dripping branches. Mrs. Sparkle's house was set back from the cracked path behind an overgrown mess of hawthorn bushes. Octavia stared through the spiky branches -- trying to catch a glimpse of the old pony through the dirty windows. But it was too dark. SHe peered out from under her hooded jacket, the cold rain pricking her skin.

        She could feel the others watching her ash she came up to the broken wrought iron gate. It hung at an angle from the brick gatepost. On top of the post was a damaged and mottled stone cat. And there was the iron silhouette of a standing cat on the gate, its outlines eaten away by rust.

        Octavia edged past the gate. She took a deep breathand looked along the weedy gravel path to the old house. To one side, she noticed a rickety old shed, half hidden under the trees. As always, the house was in darkness. She looked at the gray bay windows. She tiptoed a little way along the pathavoiding the nettles, watchful and listening.

        She paused for a moment, looking down at the rock. It was black and jagged -- she guessed it must weigh over a pound. She glanced over her shoulder. She could hear a distant hissing coming from the gang. -- an indication of how they would behave toward her if she chickened out.

        She turned back to the house. She clenched the stone in her hoof. She lifted her arm up and drew it back, getting ready to throw -- aiming for one of the smaller side windows -- feeling really bad about herself.

        The gauze curtains moved. Octavia froze, her heart beating hard. Through the grime of the window, she saw a black cat's face staring at her with luminous green eyes. A second cat came and sat alongside the first, its face mottled brown and gold, its eyes yellow.

        They were watching her.

        She couldn't throw the rock at that window -- the cats would be hurt by the broken glass. Then more cats appeared at the other glass panels of the bay window -- until every grubby window had watchful faces staring out with yellow eyes, green eyes, and golden eyes.

        Octavia heard a rustling behind her. She guessed it was Lyra and the others, creeping up to the fence to watch.

        Her thoughts raced wildly as the cats gazed out at her. "I can't!" she breathed. Then she heard again the hissing from beyond the fence. If she didn't throw the rock, the gang would never let her forget it.

        She took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart. The cats stared at her. She swallowed hard. She brought her arm right back and threw. But she deliberately aimed low, in order to miss the windows.

        The heavy chunk of rock crashed through the tall weeds under the windows.

        There was a dull, sickening thud and a horrible yowl of paid as the rock hit something hidden in the weeds, followed by a sad murmur.

        Octavia felt sick and sizzy. She was afraid to get any closer to the poor injured animal, but she knew she had to.

        She dropped to her knees, gently smoothing the lank weeds away from the pitiful littlle shape. Trembling, she reached out her hoof and touched the soft fur, careful not to startle the creature. Its narrow chest was rising and falling rapidly, and its eyes were completely shut.

        "Kitty...?" Octavia whispered, her voice hoarse, her throat tight and burning. "I didn't mean it." A painful sob cut up through her throat like a sharp stone. Her face was wet with tears.

        The injured cat's breathing became erratic. Octavia didn't know what to do. She knelt there, shivering and sickened -- utterly horrified by what she had done.

        Then the twisted little head turned and the eyes opened. The wounded animal looked up at her.

        Octavia screamed.

        She scrambled to her feet and ran helter-skelter back down the path. As she fought her way out through the broken gate, she heard at her back the fearful yowling and wailing of dozens of angry cats.

        Octavia was terrified.

        The gang was waiting for her, and Lyra was grinning. "You clobbered it," she said. "That was so cool!"

        "Get away from me!" Octavia shoved her hard. Lyra lost her balance. Her legs got tangled up in her bike and she fell over backward with a shout of anger and pain.

        Octavia didn't even notice the others -- they back away from her as she ran across the road to where she had left her bike. She threw herself onto it and pedaled away from that dreaful nightmare as fast as she could -- the tears stinging her cheeks as she sped homeward through the spireful rain.

She managed to get indoors and up the stairs to the bathroom before she was sick. She kneeled with her head over the toilet bowl, her whole body racked with guilt. She heard her mother calling up the stairs.

        Octavia washed her face and dried it with a towel and answered back in as normal a voice as she could manage. "It's only me!"

        "Are you OK?" her mother called up the stairs.

        "Yes I'm fine," Octavia replied weakly.

        She was vaguely aware of some comments about making sure she put her bike away properly -- and then silence. She sat on the bathroom for with her cheek against the cold porcelain sink.

        Octavia closed her eyes, but then she saw again in her mind the thing that had terrified her in the Cat Lady's front garden -- the thing that had sent her running for her life from that horrible, horrible place.

        She levered herself to her hooves, flushed the toilet, and leaned over the sink. The sight of her own face in the mirror shocked her. Her skin was blotchy, smeared with the tracks of grimy tears and beaded with sweat. Her hair was sticking to her skin.

        She turned on the faucets and watched as the clear water gradually filled the sink. Then she turned off the faucets and plunged her face into the water.

        Lifting her head, Octavia looked again into the mirror. Now she was just pale -- her fair hair like tangled ribbons on her cheeks and forehead. The haunted look was beginning to fade from her eyes.

Eyes.

        Like the eyes that had...

No!

        She wouldn't think about that.

        A cold, hard determination was growing out of her misery. She was finished with Lyra and the gang. Absolutely finished with all of them.

        She shivered. She felt sweaty and cold, and her clothes were sticking unpleasantly to her.

        Her legs felt stronger now.

        She needed a shower.

        A long, hot shower to try to wash away her feelings of wretchedness and grief. And then she had something important to do -- something she should have done weeks ago.

Octavia pushed open the gate and wheeled her bike up the path. She rested it against the wall and stepped up onto the porch. She took a deep bbbreath and pressed the bell.

        In the long pause before anyone came to the door, she had plenty of time to imagine all the unpleasant things that might be said to her when the door opened.

        There was the sound of a step behind the door. It swung half-open.

        Her ex-best friend Vinyl stood on the threshold. She was shorter than Octavia, and not so thin, her blue hair cut and framed around her round, friendly face. Not that her expression was at all friendly as she loooked at Octavia. She stared at her in the way she might stare at something nasty she found on the sole of her shoe.

        "Hello," Octavia said quietly.

        "Hello." Vinyl's voice was cold and expressionless.

        They hadnt spoken to each other for seven weeks and five days.

        Octavia's mouth was dry. She attempted a smile. "How are you?" she asked.

        Vinyl's voice was clipped and hard. "Fine. Thank You." she leaned against the door, staring into Octavia's face with a look of bored contempt in her eyes, as if waiting for Octavia to get this over with so she could go back to whatever she had been doing before the bell had rung.

        Octavia swallowed. "I came to say I'm sorry about the T-shirt," she said

        "Isn't it a little late for that?" Vinyl said.

        A voice called from somewhere in the back of the house. Vinyl's mom. "Who is it?"

        "No one," Vinyl called back. "Octavia Philharmonic."

        There was no response from her mother.

        Octavia took a long, deep breath. "Look," she said. "I came to tell you I'll give you money for a new T-shirt. I've got some saved up -- and you can have it all." Her heart was thumping. "I want us to be friends again." She swallowed hard. "But if you hate me -- and if you don't ever want to speak to me again -- then just say so and i'll go away right now and I'll keep out of your way forever."

        There was a long pause.

        Octavia wished the ground would open up and swallow her. This had been a bad idea. Vinyl would never forgive her.

        After a moment, Vinyl took a breath. "I might have been wrong about the T-shirt," she said. "Let's call it quits." she held the door wide. "Mom's made an apple pie. Want some?"

Octavia and Vinyl sat crosslegged on Vinyl's bed, eating appppppple pie topped with a dollop of whipped cream.

        For a long time, Octavia was content to chat amiably with Vinyl, catching up on what had been going on over the past few weeks, amazed at how easily they had resumed thier friendship again. It almost felt as if the rift had only lasted a day or two. And it was such a relief to Octavia that she could just be herself -- ttthat she didnt constantly have to act tough and cool to impress Lyra and the gang.

        But gradually, Octavia found herself talking about Lyra's dare.

        Vinyl shook her head. "You're such an idiot sometimes," she said as Octavia explaied how she had given in to Lyra's never-ending taunts and had agreed to throw that stone through the old lady's window.

        Octavia looked at her. "I havent told you the worst thing yet," she said in a subdued voice.

        "You broke a window?"

        Octavia shook her head. "I deliberately missed the window," she said. "But i hit a kitten." she shrank from the look on her friends face. "I didn't see it," Octavia blurted out, tears hot on her cheek. "It was lying behind a lot of tall weeds."

        Vinyl's hooves came up to cover her face. "Was it badly hurt?" she asked.

        Octavia nodded, her throat tightening as the memory came flooding back.

        "Did you call a veterinarian?" Vinyl asked.

        Octavia shook her head. "It might have been too late."

        "Octavia!" Vinyl exclaimed.

        Octavia bit her lip. She couldnt look into Vinyl's face. As she spoke, she hardly recognized her own voice. "it was nearly dead," she breathed. "It was all twisted and helpless. But then... its head turned... and it... looked at me." She was trembling now, reliving the horror of that impossible moment.

        She stared into Vinyl's face. "Its eyes werent normal," she whispered, hardly daring to put into words the terror that had bbeen haunting her ever since.

        "What do you mean?" Vinyl asked in a low murmur.

Octavia looked at her. "It didn't have a normal cat's eyes," she said. "Its eyes were -- Vinyl it had pony eyes!