Walking at the Speed of Memories

I stood motionless on the sidewalk in the cold and silent air, the absence of chirping birds and rumbling cars further support the theory that I am alone in this whole place. The angry clouds hovered above the ghost town, threatening to rain down at any given moment, and I stared at the buildings through the grey fence that bordered the place of my most memorable life: my old school.

This was the place that made me enlist as a soldier during the Pointless War, as what they called it. I remember the experience in the front: suddenly startled awake from artillery shells and the rattling of the guns with the constant fear of facing death. Thankfully I didn't go insane for those long fearful months, unfortunately some did, suffering from severe wounds or even amputated limbs, I too would have lost my sanity if either were to happen.

A clap of thunder snapped me back to reality, leaving me staring at the fence once again, feeling uneasy. I slowly made my way along the fence to the gate to the right of me, legs feeling heavy from the toll on my mind from this place, dragging my left forehoof along the fence as I'm nearing the thing in mind, remembering those days where I would walk this way to enter the school, listening to the raking sounds it made. My hoof fell upon the gate which was not chained and locked to my surprise, and I slowly pushed it open with the metal hinges letting off a slow squeak as I entered the parking lot. Apparently nopony opened this gate in a long time, maybe even since I left to the war.

I stared at the broken and cracked asphalt underneath my hooves that made up the parking lot, the paint that marked everything, weathered away from existence. This place use to be full of life, cars, and ponies. Now it's full of nothing but silence and sadness.

A cold drop of rain suddenly fell onto my snout, I flinched and slowly looked up into the sky as if it would cause another drop to fall if I moved too suddenly. Another drop fell, then another, and another, soon enough, it started to rain. Lightly at first then suddenly heavier along with the wind starting to pick up, forcing me to take cover and I quickly galloped through the small patch of grass and into the cover of the breezeway to escape the rain. I ran just like how I did during the bombardment at the front, running through the trenches to dodge shells and mortars, barely escaping death. The feeling made me uncomfortable and I stopped running the moment I went under the cover of the breezeway and shut my mind off from continuing to remember those moments.

The rain continued pelting the earth and the grey clouds covered the school in darkness. It's a calming sight and I took a moment to myself, smelling the humid air around me, the nice cool feeling on my fur along with the calming pitter-patter of the rain makes my heart smile quietly, slowly forgetting the past memories. I slowly come to my senses after a while and exhaled, forming a small cloud and looked across the breezeway staring at the distant buildings with one of the torch-like roofs of the breezeway leaning into the crushed facade of one of the buildings which I once loved--the band room.

I was a band geek so to speak; a trumpet player, spending most of my school time with marching band and concert band--what a wonderful time that was--but seeing it vaguely ruined like this, still saddens me. I looked to the B building to try and forgeet what I had seen but, you can't really do that. I made my way through the breezeway, closer to the B building.

The B building is two classrooms connected by a stairwell to the second story, all under one roof with scary bathrooms for some reason. This place was the oldest out of the three buildings: A, B, and C, which makes it the candidate for being old and sometimes phantasmagorical at night. I started to climb the stairs to the classrooms on the right side, a trickle of rain fell onto my mane, I jumped from the sudden cold I snapped my head up, wondering how rain can fall on my head when I'm under a roof, looking at the broken tiled glass high above me--I still wonder how ponies manage to reach a glass-tiled ceiling high above them, let alone crack it. I brushed the rest of rain that may have lingered, off my mane and continued to go up the stairs, the air growing ever colder from the rain. I circled around the building on the right to my chemistry class and peered through the glass opening in the metal door.

It's a saddening thing to see an empty classroom, in an empty school, in an empty town, with its chairs on top of the desks with nopony coming in to lay them down and get ready for class to begin, and only have the light from the sun's rays that managed to come through the dark clouds overshadowing this once busy town, and looking at the lonely chairs, along with the rest of the school, it's quintessential. I can remember those days where my chemistry teacher would do some lab experiments in class when the week grows tiresome and boring, to cheer up the class by showing a hooves-on experiment such as crushing a can only using some boiling water and a bowl of ice water which was impressive, and even if he does something that didn't work out, it always was enjoyable to see a teacher who thinks of his students.

I stopped looking through the window not only from the memories that cascaded into my mind causing me to stop thinking about it, but my breath fogging up the glass because it was freezing outside and my hooves were too heavy for me to lift up to even consider wiping the condensation that formed on the glass to continue looking through and not see a fogged up piece of glass.

I made my way back down the stairs with a heavy heart to see again the band room, all alone and stray from any buildings like it always had, only having a tree nearby accompanying the classroom. I stared at the door at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to approach it as if it would be too painful for me to go through the memories I would had, but I wasn't even sure if I would get a chance like this again. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and forced my loathsome hooves to head to the band room. Inch by inch, I made my way across the breezeway and walked down the path that lead to the band room and stopped in front of the door. I slowly put my hoof on the door knob and tried to open the door, it was closed of course. I remember the first time I tried to enter the band room back when I was in my eighth grade year, first time being in a high school, I thought it was locked, trying desperately to turn the handle to open the door, knocking on it to only be drowned out by music from the inside, but it only required a pull to open it as it was always opened. Strange thing for a door with a doorknob not being able to be opened from the outside with a twist. I glanced at the fallen breezeway pillar that crashed into the left side of the band room, daring to enter through there as if I were to commit a sin by entering a room not through a door. I stood there for a while, weighing my options whether should I go in but, I remembered, I was alone.

The breezeway pillar made an opening near the top of the wall meaning that I had to climb up it. I quickly stepped into the rain and started my climb up the pillar and to the opening it made at the top of the wall. The pillar that has been in the rain almost made me slip, I managed to wrap my hooves around the pillar before I did, worried I might fall off even though it was only a few feet but with acrophobia, it's dizzying even at this low of height, thinking I would fall of and hurt myself. I pulled myself up the bit of the roof that would have flowered out to provide cover from the rain and jumped down. My hooves that was soaked in the rain, slipped as I landed on my forehooves and I fell down to the ground with a loud thud banging my head against the ground, almost biting my own tongue-- I didn't thankfully. I groaned from the pain in fear I might have done more than a possibly bruised ribs. I slowly rolled onto my back and took deep breaths to lessen the pain, and rubbed my head from the slight concussion. After a few minutes when the pain has subsided, I prodded my ribs to see if I may have broken anything; nothing thankfully, was broken but I am still not convinced I got off, Scot-free. I carefully got up one leg at a time as if I were made out of glass, afraid I might shatter at any moment, and surveyed the room I fell in. From the set of percussion instruments, a marimba, a pair of cymbals, as well as a few other things, I figured I was in the storage room with the room next to me with the rhythm instruments.

I slightly limped my way out the door to the main room being careful to not rouse the pain again. The main room was a multi-leveled platform in the shape of an arch where we would do all the concert band relating things, as well as marching band when it is in season. I made my way up the levels and to the back of the room where the instruments were stored, but there weren't any, save for the few that were not owned by the school; they belonged to the students. I looked through the rows of empty shelves with a few that some of my friends had--I wondered where they were now, I missed them.

I stopped my searching when I saw a case in the bottom row, by the looks of it, contained a trumpet, I realized, not just any trumpet, my trumpet; the instrument I loved during my school time; the instrument that I took care of, oiling the valves, greasing the slides, polishing the bell and the body to a nice shine, the case alone made my eyes brim with a bit of tears. After all these years, it's still here. I reached out for my trumpet and pulled it out of the shelf by the handle, looking at the blue, transparent tag that held my name as well as a few other things that was tied to the handle. I laid the case down and slowly unzipped the case, hearing the low growl it made as I did so, and lifted the half of the case to unveil the silver instrument that was my trumpet. It was an old Tamaha trumpet, a few years old more specifically. I slowly brushed the base of the bell with my right forehoof--still shiny, save for the few hoofprints I left--making a small, saddened smile on my face remembering the time during marching band in the EBA finals; the thrill and anxiousness I had during the time on the field, executing the program near flawlessly; the suspense among my fellow band members as several bands get called from last to first, our name not being one of them until the last few spots where we won first place. I rememberd that day where I cried out in joy from the effort I put in the band, spending hours and hours every day on the field, doing reps of the show over again, the sectionals I had during those long weeks, and even the time I committed during my time off of rehearsals--all knowing it was worth the effort.

I closed my eyes to stop any tears from streaming down my face as it was beginning to be too much for me to handle. I closed the case, not letting the silver-plated instrument see anymore sunlight, zipped it back up, and placed it back where it really belonged, to the band. I walked out of the door, as it can be opened from the inside--it only took a simple push on the bar, with good memories from my past lingering in my mind, listening to the rain outside as it was starting to rain ever so heavier, crashing against the ground and the buildings around me. I took a slow breath, taking in the cold air, drawing in the relaxing smell from the rain, and slowly walked down the connector roof outside, back to the breezeway, and headed to my right, glancing at the main theater as I went by.

I walked up the stairs of the building to the left, heading to my Equestrian class on the second story of the A building which is connected to the library. My teacher was pretty laid-back, not minding our using our phones as long as it's not a nuisance. I'd say this was the classroom that really helped me change my attitude during my Sophomore year, not being a shy, sensitive pony anymore, seeing how I was a soldier in the war. After wrapping around the building I stopped at A233, looking through the window-walled classroom, looking at my old desk where I sat. I tried to not to see the posters that were still hung up as they would be too difficult for me to continue looking at the classroom as I would back then, staring at the posters, reading what it had to say, daydreaming at the time.

I went to the railing behind me, placing both my forehooves on the cold and wet metal as I was not under the roof anymore, but I didn't care about the rain that was currently drenching me. I looked at the scenery around me, a simple tree with its leaves that's within arm's reach from the railing, with its still-green pines and the overgrown grass at its trunk as well as the few stray buildings and the cafeteria that I only visited once. I took a deep breath. I remember looking out into the open like this for my Equestrian teacher to come and unlock the classroom door after snack as he's always been late. I started dreaming about the times I had in that classroom, reading famous novels like "Silence in the Eastern Front" and "Kelvin 505.927" and making puns after my teacher talked about it in one of Drakespear's play novels and how it was the lowest of low in jokes but I made them very easily for some reason, it's not my talent though, or else I'd have something that resembled puns for my cutie mark, maybe a jester hat? But mine was a scroll with writing that reads "mementote semonis" or "remember the language". Thinking about books reminds me of a book called "Walking at the speed of memories". It's not much of a book, more of a documentary of some sort, but I didn't really read it as it was not really my kind of thing to read.

My ears perked up from a train that blared its horn from a distance, echoing across the empty town until it was only a whisper did the train honked again signaling this empty place of its presence as it passed by, but nopony was here. Nopony, but me.

I smiled to myself for a moment, welcoming the train as I always had when I went here, I closed my eyes and turned up to the rain that showered me in its nature, then frowned as I realized I was standing under the pouring rain and I quickly jumped back under the roof mentally chiding myself for even considering standing under the rain without any rain-clothing, let alone clothing at all, after I did so. The wind picked up, and started howling across the empty halls and I found myself shaking uncontrollably from the stinging wind that is freezing me. I had to get inside and I quickly ran across the small connector to the door on the second floor of the library hoping it's unlocked. I pushed against the door and it thankfully swung open, but the room felt strangely cozy, and warm. Somepony was probably here I thought.

I went down the flight of stairs through the warm air, shaking myself dry as I did so, careful not to slip again like I did in a different room and slowly approached the door to the actual library with a low hum from the heater. I stopped what I was doing to look at the empty glass podium in the wall to the right of me, usually it was decorated with themed items like the authors fair last time, now it's nothing with only the spotlights that lit the lonely wall.

The bell that hung from the wall next to me suddenly started ringing, hammering my eardrums and almost giving me a heart attack, maybe even an episode. I quickly ducked down and covered my ears for the duration of the bell, hoping it will end shortly. After the bells stopped signaling the school time, It stop ringing, leaving the echos bouncing across the library until it was no more, leaving the library silent once again and I slowly got up, slightly shaken  up. I looked around to see if anypony was there that may had set off the bell. Nopony was around me and I went into the library and into the overcast lit darkness inside. It was hard for me to see inside, but I guessed there was nopony inside, the rain now started letting off claps of thunder, booming across the town, it was a thunderstorm happening about. I looked at the checkout desk to the right of me--the many times I checked out a book, reading dictionary-sized novels for passing the time is more than enough to fill an actual dictionary probably--searcing around to see if there were any computers left but to my disappointment, no computers were here or anywhere in the library as there use to be several of them here.

I looked at the desks near the rows of empty bookshelves and there was somepony there, sitting, with their forehooves crossed on the desk, head placed above them, staring at the window along the top of the wall. The pony sat up and looked at me in the dim-lit library. It was a mare, but this mare was different, as if I've seen her before, our exchanged glances alone told us we knew each other very well. We said nothing to each other. I walked to the chair next to her and we sat silently cross-hooved on the desk, staring at the window and daydream in the dark. The surreal shower of the rain, the warmth of the library wrapping me, and the mare sitting next to me, enjoying my company, makes me feel at peace for once in a long time. I thought of those nerve-racking days of the war and even after, I still felt like an outsider to modern society. I once mistook the sound of a truck passing by as a shell heading for me as the sound it made mimicked the whistling of the shell for instance. It felt like hours looking at the window and my neck was starting to get a little sore, but I still didn't mind nor cared.

I slowly got up and searched to see if there are any books left in the shelves hoping to find any to relieve me from my boredom. I slowly made my way through the rows of empty bookshelves, even the world books that are about a century old, are gone--I never could imagine somepony actually reading those books for enjoyment. Losing hope, I turned and went down the last row, dragging my hoof across the top row of shelves with my eyes trained on the bottom row, picking up a bit of dust along the way, until my hoof bumped into something, not the end of the bookshelf, but a book, more specifically, the book that I never finished reading; "Walking at the speed of memories". I immediately took it off the shelf, brushed of any dust that may have caked on it, off and brought it back to the desk where the mare sat curiously looking at the book my left forehoof was holding,  I said nothing and I opened the book between us, continuing off of where I left off, she read along with me, sometimes stopping my hoof from turning the page and pointing to where she was so she can finish the page, I didn't mind, I was a bit of a fast reader anyways.

The book was boring as always but somewhat more interesting now that I continued reading it, maybe I was getting to the more entertaining part. A clap of thunder rang out, we both jumped at the sudden activity, her staying closer to me and I slowly wrapped my right forehoof around her, comforting her, she started to nuzzle the side of my neck, already comfortable of our bodily contact, I felt my face grown a little warm from the contact that was probably from her face being so close to mine, but continued to read to ignore the feeling. After what seemed like hours, we finished reading it. I closed the book shut, hearing the satisfying clap of a finished book, got up and stretched for a bit from the long hours of sitting, and put the book back where it belonged. I looked back at the mare who also got up and pendiculated and gave her a subtle nod signaling for us to go, she nodded back in the same manner and I started heading outside, she followed with me.

I went past the library entrance and headed out of the door to my right, the cold outside made me shiver as we were in a nice heated room before. The roof above us dripping slow drops of rain, the lovely after smell of rain entering our snouts, the silent air that was around us instead of the roar of rain was a good sign that it stopped and the sun was slowly ducking under the horizon, letting out a beautiful amber glow in the darkening blue sky as it did so. We made our way through the soaked breezeway and to a place that I found perfect for two ponies to sit by. We past the B building, the band room and to the C building at the end of the breezeway, we walked up the ramp to the second floor and stopped at the last bit of the ramp and sat down, not minding the wetness of the ground beneath us and looking at the last glimpse of the sun before it makes its way around to the other side.

I looked at her and she looked at me, both lovingly but, not with affection or passion, but a different kind. And she finally spoke up, after the long hours of silence that was brought between us.

"Welcome back," she said, giving me a warm smile, "I missed you"

I smiled back at her, "I missed you too, sister... I missed you too"

And I realized something. Something I never thought about.

I was walking at the speed of memories.