At the very top
By Matthew DePointe
The clock struck midnight. I knew the time has come, but the ticking was more counterproductive, making me visually realize what I was doing. One tick…
My family, my friends, and my self-respect will be gone. No more grief, no more sadness, at least for me. Three ticks….
I gambled. I lost. And I obliterated any chance I had with redemption. I’m glad I gambled though. One of the few things I haven’t regretted. It is truly better to gamble and lose than to never try at all. Five ticks…
Sunny. The Sunrise part, not the heat. Sorry, in times of emotional distress, don’t tend to think clearly. Maybe that is the only way I can do this. Forgetting, forgetting... not working. Seven ticks...
Getting closer. I know I should start feeling really anxious right now. But I dont. Maybe I feel like I could live with this decision. As if, something is about to be completed. A cycle ends and another one begins. All that crap. Nine ticks...
In an earlier life, I loved proverbs. I recited everyone I could remember. My favorite is “The means don't justify the end, but neither does the end justify the means.” I hope to Celestia that is false. Ten ticks…
Getting back on topic, I sure did pick a nice night. The glittering city around me reminded me of “Starry Night”. Not a lot of people can live in Manehattan. Ponyville was too small town for my standards and Los Pegasus was full of hot shot celebrities. They shot through the stars, leaving all the common ponies like I to scramble for the other spots. Very few ponies are as high as I am right now, on one of the many skyscrapers in downtown Manehattan. Eleven ticks…
One more tick to go. I suppose I have thought of everything. I haven’t exactly made my peace with it yet, but now is as good as ever. The only good news about this situation is that I’m not a pegasus. I’ll hate for this to be a fluke. Twelve ticks…
Time. The last thing I see is the beautiful night, as bright and shining as ever. Luna sure does make a beautiful night. It was like, it was winking at me, egging me on, inspiring confidence. No cowardism. Like the night shined and twinkled only for me. It almost made me regret making a mess on the ever busy streets...
I close my eyes, lay my back towards the city, and fall.
I should be dead right about now. It only feels like a minute has passed and at my altitude and weight, it shouldn’t be long. I don’t dare open my eyes. Any intelligent or rational thoughts pass right through me. I clearly haven’t landed yet. What gives?
As soon as I guess what is happening though, the slight wind confirms my suspicions. I am still free falling! This was amazing. Science is failing me, for the moment anyway. Eventually, time will catch up. Levitation shouldn’t work from this high. I locked the door leading up to the roof and only high level magicians can levitate somepony about my weight.
I could guess what a psychologist would say in this situation. I’ve seen the world- renown Twilight Sparkle, the princess turned advocate for love. Equestria was surprised when Luna and Twilight hooked up, but I suppose I’ve seen weirder stuff. I’m not in the greatest position to judge other ponies, anyway. Besides, Vinyl and Octavia are another famous couple. I don’t even know how two mares would manage to… Lets get off this subject.
I’m sure LunTwi would say my sub-conscious is trying to tell me that I have some issue that needs to be resolved. Maybe I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. I don’t care, thinking of this any further to is too painful. I’ll just wait it out, I have loads of patience…
Well, I’ve waited long enough. It now feels like I’ve been stuck in this constant motion, or should I say, non-motion, for at least a day. I can’t see myself, but I sure can image it. My silver mane between my legs, my white coat gasping for air, even the faces of the ponies below. I have to admit that this isn’t as uncommon as you might suspect, in a major city, but it must be horrifying. To them, it would only be 15 seconds. I might even fall on someone. But only if they were idiots, not moving out of the way.
Why am I now rethinking this? It seemed so simple. Step one, jump. Step two, die. End of plan. I knew what I was doing. I might have been depressed, but I’m not crazy. Says the pony who jumped off a skyscraper. Shut up.
The only defense I can offer is that at least I’m not homicidal. Compared to that Pinkie character, I’m the fucking pope. I’m so glad the Ponyville Police Department caught her before she killed Ms.Dash like the others and baked her into one of her delicious cupcakes… okay, maybe I’m not homicidal, but I have no problem admitting I am weird. Now thinking, I could have gotten a worse deal. I could have had my guts cut out and smashed into sprinkles…
Okay, mental puke. Sunny used to tease me about this kind of gross shit. She’ll cut out an article from the Ponyville Gazette (her hometown) and keep me updated about the cruelness that was once Pinkie Pie. Pinkie also had an affair with Mr. Cake, her employer. Yeah, it sounds bad, but compared to the slaughter of dozens of ponies, I’ll rather have her banging Sunny than killing me. Twilight would have given her amnesty, if it wouldn’t have been for the revolt she would have receiven. Twilight might be into friendship and all that, but politics are politics...
Sunny also used to send me pictures of farm animals having sex. Mooella is the most famous cow porn star of all time, and with her utters, I don’t blame the fandom. Gosh, if time ran this slow, then my time with Sunny would have lasted forever. An eternity of blessed ignorance. I need to stop thinking about her. Maybe this is my punishment. Forever, thinking of the perfect Sunset. But what was the point? I was going to die and no matter how much I analyze everything, nothing will change that fact. That one, little fact…
Maybe I should start everything from the beginning. But I know everything about my life. It’s not like I’m going to tell a story to someopony who doesn’t know who I am. It would be pointless to openly talk about it. I could try to go wayyyy back, like state the fact that I was born on November 2nd, 1987 or I never had any friends during my colthood. I find that not only pointless, but idiotic. I was done talking to myself as if their were other ponies around. I wasn’t 12 anymore...
But, it was time wasting, and it may even speed up the process of falling. Besides, I’m bored. Fine. My name is Ace Bronze, just like I’’m in kindergarten. Well, as I stated earlier (if you can’t do simple math), I’m 27. I work, or worked?, at Rockstar North as an animator. Not the highest paid job, but enough to keep me comfortable, especially by Manehattan standards. I created characters for video games. I design them, and occasionally, get to choose their personalities. I choose their outfits, I create their moods, I have the abillity to either make them kill somepony or give away all their life savings to charity. I was like iPod, the all mighty creator of ponies. Yeah, I quickly joined the iPod Christian movement when I realized that I could pretty much get away with doing anything, even suicide, at least spritially. Don’t judge me. Love and tolerate, all that crap.
Anyway, the job though, was only a job. At the company, someone rarely gets promoted. I needed a career, and the opportunity just wasn’t there. I liked doing the visual style, I just hated the environment I was in. I was in a plastic bubble, feeling like.So, in mid-february of this year, I left. I consider it my “quarter-life” crisis, since I was too young for the other one. In hindsight, I probably should have stayed. But the past is the place for regrets. And while in this “crisis”, I met Sunset.
I was walking, kind of nonchalantly, on 42 ½ street. I quit two days earlier, and was now wandering around the metropolis. My rent was good until the month was up, I had savings, and moping around wouldn’t fix anything. So, since it was February, it was still cold, maybe even more freezing than December. I hurried along, trying to decide where I should head in at. The bars were open, but that is only fun if you are drunk. I knew that if I headed down that road, I was going to be even more screwed than I already was. I wasn’t planning on getting drunk, so the bars weren’t much of an option.
I picked up the Manehattan Gazelle while I was in town. The headline read, “UFO Spotted Around Sweet Apple Acres”. The newspapers throughout Equestria are completely made up. Sweetie Bell, the gossip writer, has the imagination of a little filly. Her sister isn’t much more sophistacted, though. The shops who display her dresses have names like, “Sex n Text”, or something horrible like that. In my opinion, the dresses look like they were dug out of the garbage can. One of her outfits even calls for a soup can to be worn as a hat! The prositues who sit around 5th Avenue won’t even touch that shit. Craziness must run in that family.
It got so cold that I decided to just go in the place closest to me for warmth. I walked into a bakery called The Kitchen Knife.. On their front window, the letters were made of hot apple pie, and to my screamish delight, I heard they had chocolate covered apples with ice cream. I have this time for chocolate. Who doesn't? As I walked up to the counter, I suddenly recognized the clerk. It was Applejack!
This wasn't my first encounter with Applejack. Occasionally, I freelanced with adverse advertisments for her company, trying to sell her over-priced products to under-paided saps such as myself. But that was during my Pranceton Unviersity days where I was broke. We had a business relationship, although we lost touch when Granny Smith died of diabetes. Yeah, when Ms. Smith died, I heard the farm was bankrupted by Filthy Rich due to some kind of misunderstanding of paperwork. It only took 2 weeks before the vampire fruit bats have taken control over the territory, making it the most dangerous place on Ponyville. I heard that the only pony who goes there anymore was Scootaloo.
I said, "Hey Applejack! How are you doing after all these years?"
"Ace Bronze? Is that you? Wow, you haven't grown an inch since we last met!"
Haha.
"How are you doing, Ms. Jack?"
"For tardnations, I'm not an old pony yet! You don't need to call me "Ms." I'm doing just fine though. How y'all been doing?"
"Okay, I suppose. iPod, I'm glad to see you. What are you doing here in Manehattan?"
"Well, I just couldn't stay in Ponyville after the ...um... tradegy. I couldn't keep living there and have everypony stare at me, right? And it didn't help my reputation as a baker any when Pinkie Pie... Um, I rather not think about it. Let's just say that the food business isn't so great anymore. "
"I read it in the newspaper. I still couldn't believe what the pyscho has done. But still, why move to Manehattan? Why not Trottingham or somewhere less expensive?"
"I need to get back on my hooves and make something of meself. I plan on franchising meself. Besides, I wanted to sell my delcicous, and non-pony, apple pies in the only city in Equestria with more than a thousand ponies!"
" I suppose that makes sense." Not.
"Have you found somepony yet? I mean, not to be unhonest or nothing, but the one time you made a pass at me at the farm...didin't quite impress me."
"What do you mean!? I had to bust my rump to avoid your Mac and your Granny. And it's not exactly easy to do it on the tractor..."
"I suppose it's none of my business, anyway. How can I help you?"
I ordered a triple glazed apple, with extra chocolate at the top. Because with chocolate, you know, resistance is futile. Applejack put pretty much an entire chocolate bar on top, to my squeamish delight. I was definitely coming back there again. I sat down in one of the booths in the corner. I took a bite, deliciousness fading into my brain and clouding my vision, when I just stopped. I mean, I had my muzzle in mid-air, and by then the chocolate was dripping onto my lap. Mocha was drooling down my legs onto the floor, with a hint of fury from Applebloom, who got promoted to the janitor profession. I saw bright eyes, the big beaming light of a yellow unicorn with chestnut hair. A big sun was on her Cutie Mark, not much different from Celestia's.
Her eyes radiated like gas fumes from the rainbow factory when I first looked up from my- now messy- apple. I am a firm believer that the eyes are the window to the soul. I heard that DJ Pon-3 claims she never takes off her purple tinted glasses. I think this in itself is a tragedy. Ignoring that, looking at Sunset just made my heart melt. I knew that I had to meet her. I HAD to. But how?
End of Chapter One
Author's Note
Please comment below. I highly view constructive criticism of my work. Chapter 2 will be up on August 20th. Any questions or concerns, please comment. I will love to PM anypony.
