Author's Note

Hello there and welcome back to yet another chapter of Ocular Spectral Therapy, the one story out of many of my craft to go above and beyond the oneshots I have given you since the inception; suffice to say, the past chapters from before were by far a strong note for you all and it will only be a taste of what's to come later on.

As usual, My Little Pony, or rather Friendship Is Magic, including its settings and characters belong to Lauren Faust and Hasbro; however, this concept of my fanfic still belongs to me so I will say this line one time only: please do not steal this story or I will sue.

Lastly, let me also say that I hope you can stomach this chapter now more than the others before it and still have the strength to continue onward in staying tuned though the passing times; henceforth, I will leave you with but one saying only: thank you very much.

Orange

The sounds of crying were now filling the dense air for that feeling of loneliness was hanging on and around like a defiant sponge and starfish resting on a pair of hooks cast into the briny deep. Although the clouds in the sky were devoid of precipitation whatsoever falling to the earth, teardrops took their place as they touched the thin scare blades of the brilliant green below. Between intervals were the snorting of nostrils overshadowing by the otherwise gentle breeze where a few of the willow leaves were dancing mad in a rather unwarranted juxtaposition.

They all belonged to the tanned blonde who was wiping away the achromatic beads off from her weary jade eyes as they either were absorbed by her grasp or became pulled down by gravity. Her wide brimmed hat now rested firmly upon her very tresses as they had been reduced greatly in length to the point where there was not a band in sight worthy of keeping it together anyway. Adorned on the blonde’s very body was a dark blue jacket which had overlaid a reflective vest: the former long and being zipped up to her neck whereas the latter remained open and shorter. Her long legs were already dressed in a black fabric so as to protect the otherwise dark skin from the cold airstreams that had been found to be flowing throughout the cold cruel world as of now. The blonde had worn tall brown boots on both of her very feet, feeling the weight of the world below them as well as on these own shoulders as she was standing upward onto the solid ground. Out of all the attire donned on her, there was only one piece that stood out amongst the others: around her face and nose was a gray gasmask that amplified the texture of sadness from within.

Lying in front of the blonde was another female of a similar complexion just like the former but possessing some different qualities of great significance worthy of being instantaneously noticed. First off, the many wrinkles which had appeared all about the face were now replaced by various scars and bruises, bringing in various lines of white and pink onto the otherwise dark olive skin. Both the orange shawl and the green dress that were adored on there were now fading away in color and quality, bearing the sight of wear and tear in each fiber throughout the attire at hand. The hands were now being cupped together and had lain above the waistline, already showing some signs of thinness and deterioration on every finger and cuticle from the pair suffice to say. The hot pink sandals now had both of their soles planted upward towards the very atmosphere, ankles touching the ground along with the very fashion presented in question to say the least. One crucial detail that had stood out was that both eyes were closed as well as the mouth too; therefore showing no signs of obstruction in any form whatsoever being adorned on the visage. The only constant that had remained there was of the gray hair resting on the decaying head; though filled a few strands out of place and a patch of dirt, its style was otherwise clean no less.

“Hey, Granny; it’s your pride and joy Applejack here…” the eponymous observer wheezed with a weary look at the subject in question, “Ah should have been so proud to see you again, but Ah can’t even find the strength to do so: this war has changed everything for the whole entire family. To be honest, it should have been me who died instead: the minute Ah had woke up and found you alongside Winona, Ah had wish that Ah had joined you and not just for what they did to us but for what they did to me and Apple Bloom. At first, Ah thought that she was killed as soon as Ah came to and tried to end myself because of all that pain that Ah had felt, especially since it had seemed to be related a promise Ah made to ma and pa, may they rest in peace, that was broke; but, then Ah learned that she became some sort of a slave and now Ah must find a way to save her from those fiends before something horrible happens: the only question is what to do once Ah get her back? There is obviously no way we can go back home after all that happened here and even if the farm does grow back, all the pain would be too much for the both of us; besides, Ah even have mah own worries to be concern of: it would be easy for me to find someone who will care for her but hard to decide on what to do. Ah have just found out that they have done something even worse to me even after Ah woke up: whenever Ah touch mah stomach at nahgt, it still reminds me of not just what they had done to me but also what they had done to ya both and what they could have done to Apple Bloom. Ah feel sick as Ah go to the bathroom and think about ending it; of course, ya always taught me that life is precious and worthy of respect yet now that Ah see ya, now Ah even cry more about what they’ve been doing: making another one of ya like they’re shipping out toys before Hearth’s Warming Eve. At least, now Ah can see to it that these monsters will never do anything else horrible to you ever again; Ah know it looks extreme and unorthodox but Ah cannot have mahself or Apple Bloom watch even a part of ya being watered down into a common derivative: it just feels so painful to see you this way. Goodbye Granny Smith, thank ya for raising me, her, and Big Mac, keeping us safe on the straight and narrow; at least, Ah understand what should be done already and hope that you could forgive me somehow.”

At that moment, Applejack reached for her pocket and pulled out a bottle from its depths, spraying a small stream of achromatic liquid unlike the small teardrops onto Granny Smith; afterwards, the former, threw the bottle away and found a little matchstick in between fingers. Striking the match against the dark blue jacket in under a second, the blonde finds a petite flame now eating away the tip of the wood where the red used to be with its bright vermillion glow; soon, it fell away from her fingertips and onto the elder’s sandals as it grew in a slight intensity. Within moments, Granny Smith became instantaneously bathed in the synthetic conflagration, the once dried and dampened figure was now found to be burning bright and briskly altogether, all while her granddaughter squinted in silence before turning around and backing away slowly. As Applejack wept right away once more, she had heard the flames crumble and click freely, fully aware of what she’d done to the elder recently and wiping away the tears in the process; even the very sniffling at hand along with the howl of airstreams were overlooked by them. Opening back the weary jade eyes, the tearful blonde had slowly turned back to find what had now become of her grandmother: once a dark yet otherwise colorful being soon became greatly charred and shrunken down from the former shape and size of itself by the fire and flames. Applejack then watched sadly as the conflagration upon Granny Smith suddenly subsided already, a combination of both smoke and ashes in place being repelled against the cool breeze; in addition, any and all traces of the latter’s former identity had now been covered in blackness.

The blonde slowly took in the sight of what was once her grandmother laying across the scarce field in the distance now that the flames had died down, fully satisfied and deprived of fuel. Trudging forward, Applejack soon uncovered a small broom and dustpan from her pockets and knelt down to scoop up the blacken ashes, intent on getting each and every single particle. Sweeping them up had instantly revealed that out of the very pile were a few small yet significant fragments emerging from within as they were put into pan by the blonde at hand. Soon, Applejack had found the ashes to be fulled up and took this time to retrieve a plastic bag from the dark blue jacket, its empty size capable of covering up both of her very hands no less. With the achromatic container now also in possession, the blonde took her time to open it up from its once flattened state and use it to dump the batch inside of there without hesitation. Applejack took use of the instant growth that she had experienced and resumed sweeping up the rest and before long it too was filled up to the brim; still, the task had proved to be far from over. Pulling out another bag, the blonde shoveled the next pile inside there and found that the blackened ashes were now all gone, a small patch of dirtied soil in place to say the very least.

Tying both of the pouches up, Applejack turned her gaze towards another object in the distance: it was a small glass bowl filled with yet another achromatic liquid residing in there all at once. Standing up onto both feet, the blonde made her way over to the object in question no less; slowly, she dropped both bags into there gently and witnessed something happen in the jade eyes: the contents under pressure now sizzled against the liquid as it burst open into the middle. Watching them carefully, Applejack steered clear of the glass bowl and turned to find the brush and dustpan from before; quickly, she began to pick the two of them both up in both hands. Afterwards, the blonde returned to where the containers were discarded into, finding nothing absolutely remaining in the process compared to the time long before her entry in question. Without warning, Applejack now carefully tossed the small broom and dust pan into there, creating a dilated splash before bubbling around the objects as they both shrank in an instant. Sure enough, they all were instantaneously consumed into the very liquid at once, quickly leaving behind no trace of their collective existence in any form or fashion to be salvaged.

Watching all this made the blonde feel relieved to be wearing the gasmask as she started to walk away, no longer feeling bound to this place as the observer turned and never even looked back.