How Simple it Seemed

Twilight Sparkle was gazing outside the window. It was raining, as it had been for a few days now. She had been excited, graduating school, moving out, and beginning her studies on magic. But now there was simply no reason to be happy anymore. She hated living alone. She didn't have any friends and couldn't make any because of the current weather. She once had a dragon friend, but Spike had passed away four years ago.

Twilight had always felt guilty. There was simply no food and her house was a wreck, definitely not suited for living in proper conditions. Spike's death had always been a mystery, but Twilight assumed he had starved. She let out a sigh, standing up.

To Twilight, there was no reason to live. Suicide had crossed her mind from time to time, but she simply didn't have the courage to die. If she ever conquered that fear, there was always the spare rope in her closet. Twilight doubted she would ever have the courage to take that rope, turn it into a noose, and sling it around her neck.

The lightbulb flickered, growing slightly duller. Twilight was running out of candles and she despised rainy skies. She just groaned, trotting over to the light, standing up on her hind legs, and examining it. It wasn't dead yet.

"Perhaps when the weather lightens up a bit and the rain stops, I can go visit the shop," Twilight murmured, half-expecting an answer. Twilight's mind could never fully grasp the fact that Spike was gone and it was ordinary for her to talk to herself. "Spike?" Twilight turned her head, the memory replaying itself in the back of her mind.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Twilight said sadly. "Spike is dead." No matter how many times she reminded herself, she didn't seem to mind. Whenever she would go out to town, she would occasionally receive an "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss," but it only fueled her anger. She hated pity. Pity served no purpose in her life.

"What am I going to do, Spike? Why was I left all alone?" she asked, forlorn. She seemed oblivious. To her, Spike was alive. In reality, Spike was dead.

The little dragon had always cheered Twilight up. Spike had been a great friend. It saddened Twilight. The nicest of ponies - or, in Spike's case, dragons - have the worst luck. Twilight quickly ran into the kitchen. What time was it?

It was 5:57. Dinner was at six. Usually, Twilight preferred to be precise. If the clock was one second past six, she simply wouldn't eat until six thirty. She never understood why. But today she was feeling rather rebellious. She opened the fridge. A small, frozen bundle of hay. It was all she had and she only had ninety-two bits and she wanted to save up for a new house. "Better than nothing, I suppose. Right, Spike?"

To Twilight, Spike was there. She pictured the little dragon's reply, "I guess, but it really isn't enough."

"It's frozen," Twilight said flatly. "Frozen food is disgusting." Her horn lit up bright violet and the hay bundle lifted out of the fridge. The microwave door opened, and the little screen read nine seconds. The hay bundle disappeared and the door closed swiftly. Twilight didn't bother walking away. It was bright in the kitchen. Twilight liked the light.

Too bad she never got to view light. Pollution, smoke, and other fumes obscured the sun and the whole sky. Ponyville was cheap. Basically the cheapest place where criminals were everywhere. It was the ghetto, really.

Seconds seemed to be minutes. Twilight was hungry, but it was nothing new. Starvation. Most common cause of death in Ponyville next to murder. Twilight's brother Shining Armor was murdered, when she was a mere filly. Back then, she never understood death. At the funeral, she had never understood why everybody was crying and wanted to comfort them, but didn't know how.

"Mommy, where is Shining Armor at?" Twilight had asked when she was a filly.

"He's on a trip and won't be back for a while," her mother always replied. She had tried to hide it, but Twilight always saw the tears.

Days had formed weeks. Weeks formed months. Months formed years before Twilight understood. "He's dead, isn't he?" she had asked suddenly at the dinner table. Her mother and father had just nodded numbly.

Twilight was snapped back into reality as the microwave beeped.

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

The microwave opened and the hay flew onto the table. No longer frozen, but not warm. As Twilight began to eat, she began reflecting on past memories.

"Spike, dinner's ready! C'mon, wake up!" Twilight had urged playfully.

Spike had remained still.

"Spike," Twilight had stepped forward and shook the dragon. Cold. So very cold. "Spike?" The realization hit her.

"Spike, no! Wake up, please!" Twilight had wailed. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears. "Please... Spike... Don't leave me..."

She had lain there for two days straight, taking short naps every few hours but sitting and crying for the most part. She had finally worked up the energy to bury her friend. She didn't bother with a headstone. Twilight would know where the grave was no matter what, and Twilight's affection for her dead friend should've gone unsaid, Spike wouldn't need to be told.

Spike's death. The only memory that remained fresh in her mind. She would have nightmares of Spike's death while a monotone voice always told her it was all her fault. She would wake up with tears in her eyes. She feared sleep nowadays. She never got a decent night's sleep, it was always nightmares about death, suicide, and blood.

Much to her surprise, Twilight was okay with being alone. She had grown used to it and being around real, live ponies bothered her. However, she longed for a friend, despite her uneasiness with other ponies. She quickly finished eating, and the little remains were dumped into the trash.

Twilight cantered to the living room window. Dark, stormy clouds but no rain. Twilight shivered with disgust, but she had to go to the store. Upon further inspection, it seemed it wouldn't rain for a little while, few hours minimum, and took advantage. Levitating her little pouch of bits, she took a pencil and some paper, and began writing a quick, sloppily-written shopping list.

She headed outside, forgetting her boots. That seemed to be her biggest mistake of the day. The mud squelched around her hooves and it was all she could do not to run home screaming and wash the mud off.

Once Twilight arrived in town, she immediately noticed how busy and crowded everything was. She looked at the shopping list, deciding where to go to first when she was knocked over into a mud puddle.

"Oof! Ow..." Twilight stood up. Her coat, mane, and tail were drenched in mud. She was still shocked and she had hurt her front left hoof.

"My sincerest apologies!" an unfamiliar voice gasped. Twilight looked up to see a white unicorn with a purple mane and tail stand up and stare in shock. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, what about you?" Twilight spoke hastily. She felt awkward, embarrassed, and out-of-place, but the unicorn's safety concerned her. She couldn't walk away just yet.

"I'm fine. And, er, you seem to have dropped something." the unicorn said, pointing to Twilight's bag, which had spilled out and it's contents lay all over in the mud.

"Oh no... Thanks," Twilight gave a little cough.

The silence quickly became awkward.

"Well, I'm Rarity. Who are you?" The pony introduced herself.

"I'm Twilight Sparkle," Twilight replied and dipped her head in respect.

"Here, let me help you," Rarity bent down and began scooping up the bits, piece by piece. "It's the least I can do, and - eep!"

Twilight was piling together the bits. She looked up. "What happened?"

"Mud," Rarity spoke the word as though it was her worst enemy. Perhaps it was, but it didn't seem likely because of Ponyville's weather and all. "Dreadful, vile, foul!"

"What's so dreadful about mud?" Twilight asked. Upon normal circumstances, she would've laughed, but she didn't want to be rude.

"Everything!" Rarity replied sharply. Then she realized what Twilight seemed to be thinking, and replied more calmly, "I rarely ever see mud. You see, I own a boutique and make clothes, and everything has to be perfectly clean."

"Oh wow, the boutique?" Twilight gasped in surprise, emptying her hooves of the bits into the bag. "That's one of the nicest places in Ponyville!"

"Yes, it is quite nice but also troublesome." Rarity seemed to be getting irritable, as though all the negative parts of owning a boutique were crowding her mind. "Anyways, again, I'm sorry!" She stood up, handing Twilight the list.

"It was my fault," Twilight said quickly. Then she shrugged. There was no use in arguing. "Anyways, I guess, bye!"

"Goodbye!" Rarity smiled before trotting away. It took Twilight a few moments to register what had happened.

Someone had been kind to her. A stranger. No, no, not a stranger.

A friend.

Rarity, perhaps someday, could be called a friend. Twilight waved, smiling, before checking her shopping list once more.