I walked maybe for a good ten minutes around the farm, more or less trying to find my way out of whatever hole I dug myself into while enjoying the serene sounds of the leaves bending to the winds voice. Maybe it was the stress of the situation, maybe it was way I walked through the trees, but no matter what I did, I always felt like someone or something was watching me. Studying me. I thought it was paranoia at the time, hell it probably was, but I was never comfortable on that farm. I’d turn around every few minutes to see if I could find anyone following me, but I’d always be greeted with a bare road. My mind was so concentrated on finding out where I was being watched that I was caught off guard when I heard a pair of arguing voices. I looked around me for a hiding spot, a place of solace, but I couldn’t find one shred of solitude.

And as I was about to run, I felt my feet get stuck to the ground. Like they were refusing to do what I said. I tried to budge my legs from where they were, pulling on them and throwing all of my weight to one side, but it was no use. They wouldn’t even move an inch. No sooner than when I started, I saw the heads of those ponies peek over the hill. I saw the color of that pony’s dark blue mane and the cowboy hat on the one that accompanied her.

“Please Applejack, we need to hurry!”

“Twilight, if what yer saying is true, then I doubt it’d come back to Ponyville an’-!”

“Applejack, we don’t have time to argue! It could be wandering around in Ponyville as we speak! Come on, I’m sure if we hurry-” The two of them stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me. A look of aww, wonder, and fear taking hold of their large, strange faces. This ‘Twilight’, perhaps the most expressive of the two, looked up in utter surprise as I stood before her. Her friend ‘Applejack’ on the other hand looked like she was about to kill me. And before I knew it, the horse pony had pulled a lasso from out of nowhere and flung it at me. And, almost like my legs decided to finally listen, we began to run for the umptenth time that day. I ran perpendicular to the rope and went further into the apple trees.

I had a momentary head start, but I knew they were going to easily catch up with me since they were horses. I ran as fast as I possibly could and yet I still heard their galloping hooves as they tried to catch me. I heard one of them cuss and swear as I just managed to be out of their reach. But soon though, I felt a piece of rope circle itself around my neck before I felt a strong pull. Dust kicked up off the ground as I landed on my back and was dragged as I tried to get air into my lungs. I pulled on the rope as much as I could, trying to get enough room for air to come into my lungs. But, no matter how hard I tried, it just seemed like I couldn’t get enough room for my windpipe.

So, in an act of desperation and hope, I pulled the axe out of its homemade holster and began swinging violently at the direction I was being pulled at. I was hopeful, I was desperate, I was scared. I don’t what might’ve happened if I stayed that way, and I won’t ever know. Who knows, maybe they would’ve hogtied me and kept me prisoner. Maybe they would have lynched me. Maybe they would’ve kept me as a friend. But that isn’t what happened. What happened was that I managed to cut the rope in one of my many swings. While I could breath again, it didn’t stop the feeling of utter terror that played in my stomach.

Without even stopping to take in air, I had rushed myself back onto my feet and started running again, with a small piece of rope dangling around my neck. Yet again, I heard the sounds of hooves galloping in my direction. But during my run, I saw a rather familiar dark forest far ahead of us. In an ironic way, the dark, gloomy forest filled me with hope. It was almost poetic in a sense. But as I felt like I was about to be released from my torment, I heard the sounds of electricity sparking.

I thought I had a pretty good lead, that I would be able to make it into the forest without any more harm coming to me. But I was proven wrong when I felt the rope contract around my neck. I was so confused in that moment of fear. I knew I cut off that rope, I sliced it in half, and yet I still felt it tighten, and enclose around my neck. I tried to grab for the rope but I felt the emptiness of air greet my hands instead. I turned this way and that, trying to find out what was holding that rope against me. I looked towards the trees to see if it got caught, I looked towards the ground to see if it snagged on a stick. But it wasn’t until looked behind me that I saw the cause to my problems. I saw a strange, radiating purple aura enveloping the small piece of the rope that still hung around my neck. I tried to find out what had been keeping me in place and what was stopping me from rushing back into the forest. That was until I saw ‘Twilight’ with the same purple, radiating aura around her horn, an apologetic look on her face. It hit me like a brick wall. She had the exact same aura around her horn when she tried to chase me in the forest. And like a moth to a flame, I connected the two. In a hurried, panicked manner, I ripped out my revolver, cocked back the trigger, and shot her.

Almost immediately, I felt the pleasurable release on my throat and pulled off the rest of the rope before looking behind me. Behind me, I saw the small purple unicorn on the ground, crying, holding her left foreleg, as she silently mouthed something. Blood oozed out of her small, frail body, staining her crisp purple fur as she lay still on the ground. Her hat wearing friend was lying on the ground with her eyes shut tight and her hooves holding her ears down tightly. Taking the advantage I had, I put my revolver back into its holster and started to run again.

And ran I did. I ran past the many acres of apple trees even when my legs began to feel sore. I ran past the bushels of apples that lay scattered across the fields. And I ran through the thick border of the forest. Soon, I stopped running, and took a much needed breather. Thinking that I was safe in the dark forests presence, I took out my gun, pulled out the bullet I had recently fired, and tossed it onto the ground before I lugged the backpack over and pulled out its same ammo type. I put the non-fired bullet into the empty slot before closing the cylinder, giving it a slight spin before putting it back in its holster.

But as soon as I put the gun back, and put the backpack over my back again, I heard a set of galloping hooves again, accompanied with a very angry voice.

“YA FILTHY VARMINT!”

As soon as I heard even the faintest whisper of words, I started to run again. I pushed past the thick trunks of trees and threw leave, and rocks, and any sort of debris I could find behind me. But no matter how long I’d used that tactic, no matter how erratically I turned, I always heard those hooves galloping behind me. As we passed streams and slopes, as we stomped on rocks and grass, I would always heard the sickening noise of those hooves slamming on the ground as they tried so desperately to get me. Eventually, I found a very small clearing of the forest in the distance, I thought I was home free.

But I was wrong. Instead of finding sanctuary, a small place to hide, anything, I found a cliff. A sharp, narrow cliff that lead unto a perilous pit. I skidded to a halt, and looked down the abyss. Below the steep cliff was a raging river with enough jagged rocks to spike my. Past the cliff there was another ledge that was a couple feet away, twenty feet below its brother. I thought that was the end of the line, that I would be dragged back towards that farm or that I would’ve been beaten to death by that angry mare, it should’ve been the end of me. Maybe things would have turned out different, possibly for the better. But instead, I shuffled back a couple of feet and ran as fast as my tired legs would let me before I jumped off the cliff as hard as I could.

My chest slammed into the cold, rocky earth as my hands clawed at the hardened ground for anything to keep myself from falling. But try as I might, I couldn’t find anything, not even a grain of dirt. Instead, I began to slip further into the canyon. In a desperate, last ditch effort, I forced my hands onto the razor-edge cliff.

I tried to pull myself up but the backpack felt too heavy, and so I started to use my legs. But they too were giving out on me for all the abuse I had put them through. My hands were blistering with the rocks that had pierced them, and I was moaning out in pain as my vice grip seemed to have grown only stronger. I tried pulling myself up with nothing but brute force, but I guess the ledge couldn’t hold my weight. I felt my only support start to crack above me, and in my desperate situation I tried to grab for something else-anything else-but everything around me was nothing but slanted rock. I began panicking again, I was letting out inhuman noises as I began to pat the cliffs walls for anything. But right then and there, the cliff had enough and broke away from its mantle in the ground, and allowed my body to fall into the bottomless ravine

I thought that I was going to die there, that my body would crushed by the broken rock. That my head would be splattered across the gorging spikes that dotted the river. That I would drown in a vain attempt to stay afloat. But you wouldn't be reading this if I did die that day. I fell in head first through the icy waters, a cool feeling of the water washed over me, chilling me to the bone. My eyes shot open as I realized that I was still alive. My body morphed into the upright position and I began to hurriedly swim my way back up to the surface. Though I was frozen and my body felt sore, my head had burst open from the rivers age. I took in a deep gasping breath of air as I surfaced, thankful that I had not died yet. It didn’t last though. For in mere seconds I was pushed back down underneath the graves icy waters.

Again, in a fit of desperation, I forced my body to the top again. Even faster this time, I felt the river tug me back down into its depths. The river kept pushing me back and forth under the water. My ragged breath and exhausted legs only making my struggle to stay afloat more unbearable. And through my struggle against the watery death pit, God must’ve heard my prayer as a long heavy log had floated near me. I dug my hands into the wooden surface, and lurched my tired body over the well worn log. In my moment of sheer exhaustion, I looked back up at the rocky cliff I just jumped off of and saw a pair of the most angriest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve had people stare menacingly at me before, tell me death threats even attempted to kill me. I know the face of true anger, but I have never seen that much hate and malice in one's eyes before.

We just stared at each other, waiting for the other to break eye contact, to show which one is more dominant. But it didn’t happen. Instead the log carried me away from her long, narrowed stare and floated me down the then calmed river. Along my travels with the log, I saw many animals ranging from deers to rabbits to beavers. And even though I posed no threat to them on that small little log, they ran at the sight of me. Not out of instinct or some primal urge but out of fear. The look of utter terror that had stricken their almost cartoonish appearance was more than confusing. It got my mind rolling again. Did animals think like those ponies? Are they as smart? Maybe it was the pure exhaustion, but I didn’t even want to think about another species presenting intelligence. The log sloched and swirled through the then calm river as it carried me near a peaceful bank of sand. When we got close enough, I let go of the small wooden raft, and dragged myself up to the beach.

Once I was far enough away from the watery death trap, I slumped down on the ground and began to breath in and out the freshness of the summer air. In that moment peace away from those accursed ponies and their confusing world, I could only feel dread crawl up my spine. I was in the middle of a forest, surrounded by predators, chased by the locals, and was now, in that moment, about to faint. But through sheer will, or a drive to survive, I pushed myself off of the shore and started to walk through the greenery again. My hair clung to my face, my clothes stuck to my body, and my legs were exhausted. But I pushed on. I kept walking, and walking, and walking.

But as I walked forward through the thick vegetation of the forest, I found a bullet casings on the ground. A small bit away from the casings I could see the stain of blood that was splattered across the trees. Looking around a little bit more I noticed the many footprints that was peppered around the area. Human footprints. I felt an enlightenment build up deep inside of me, the prospect of seeing other humans filled me with joy and relief. But as I looked around more and more, that joy turned into anguish. All I could find around the small area was footprints, blood, and bullets.There was nothing other than those three. There were no animal markings in the area, only human footprints. It wasn’t an animal attack, it was an ambush. There were only bullet casings on one side and there was only blood on the other. Whatever happened, people had died that day, their bodies either buried by the killers or eaten by the wildlife.

I guess it was the detective in me that was curious, for soon I was on my knees examining the bullets. From what I could gather, some of them were .45 ACP rounds while the others were shotgun shells. Specifically, 16 gauge shotgun shells. Whoever was shot at didn’t stand a chance. If they took out the pistol shooter, the shotgunner would’ve torn them in half. While holding a shotgun shell in my hand, I stood back and looked around me a little bit more.The scene was cold, there was no body to look at, no witnesses to talk to, no cameras to strip through, and I doubt I’d be able to find out who did it without getting killed myself. I let out a depressed sigh and dropped the shell back onto the ground before I began to walk forward again.

And after walking for an ten minutes or so, I found a small rudimentary cave on the side of a small mountain. Being the only piece of shelter around me, I walked up to the base of the steep hill and began to climb up its hardened surface. It was a difficult struggle for me to get up the slanted piece of rock, especially since I was exhausted from my day of exertion. I’d tighten my grip around anything that was grabbable and I’d practically drag myself up the rock. But once I finally managed to scrap on up to the small gaping hole, and pulled myself through the entrance of the cave, I could do nothing but lay down against its cool walls and think of my day. And the more I looked back on it, the more and more I felt disturbed. I was forced from a world of filled with people, my people, to suddenly be dropped into a world with talking horses. I was confused, I was scared, I felt so alone. But with the events of the day coming to an end, I could do nothing more but rest my eyes and hope that’d I would escape from this terrible realm. Of course, that would never happen.

I never felt more alone in my life.

Author's Note

One hundred likes. Why?