She said she'd come back soon
You are in your backyard, laying on the grass. You had mowed it this morning, and you could still smell the scent of chlorophyll. You didn't really like gardening and all that stuff, but you had to say, it's really a relaxing sight once it's done. Laying on your back on the soft, clean field, bathing in the warm sunlight of the sunset, you can't feel the cool wind of March. Nothing on your mind, you blissfully enjoy your precious day off, and you wish for everyone on this Earth to experience this peace of mind.
You hear crying.
It's not really loud, but you can hear it, like it's not so far away from you. You open your eyes.
It continues. You can totally hear someone crying around here. You sit up, and try to find out where the crying comes from. After a few rotations of your head, you're almost certain: it comes from behind your house.
As you stand up and walk through your house, you wonder: who could this be? Most people, including you, stay at home at this time of day, and there weren’t a lot of kids in the neighbourhood, and they rarely play outside anymore anyway. You couldn't recognize the voice either. Fast enough, you reach your front door.
You grab the doorknob, open the door and see.
That's not a kid.
That's not even a human.
What you see is a small colorful horse.
You blink, rub your eyes, double-check your vision.
There still is a little cyan horse, sitting fifteen feet away, bobbing and sobbing on your front yard.
You're kind of weirded out that a horse could sob. You haven't seen a lot of horses anyway, nor were particularly fond of them, but you were pretty sure that horses don't sob.
You observe it more precisely. It's a small horse, seemingly 3 or 4 feet tall, with a bright cyan fur and a colorful rainbow mane and tail. It has wings on its sides, and overall its entire body looks smooth, flexible, and not muscular and rigid like normal horses. It has a white and yellow mark on its flank, but you can't make it out from afar.
It keeps sobbing. Why is it alone? Did it lose its owner? Did it get lost?
You decide you can't stand here doing nothing.
“Hello?” you call out.
It jerks its head in your direction. The sobbing stops, but it still has tears in its eyes... and fear.
“A-Are you okay?”
That's a pretty stupid question to ask. It obviously doesn't look okay. But eh, gotta make first contact at some point, right?
It's still sitting here glaring at you. The poor thing looks absolutely terrified.
“Uhh, maybe you would like to come inside?”
You step aside and gesture towards your house. The horse closes its mouth and swallows, looking at the entrance.
“We could, like, sit on the couch and, uhh, have a little talk?”
Probably going to be a one-sided conversation but whatever.
The little horse gets up, and takes a shy step forward. It looks down at its hooves, then sighs and slowly proceeds. It walks into your house, you follow in and you close the door behind you.
You sit down on your couch, and gesture for the small creature to jump on it next to you.
“It's okay, you can get up here.”
It seems a bit hesitant. It looks around, takes a few slow steps in your direction, before finally jumping up, with a small flapping of its wings. You turn around to reach for a blanket nearby and roll it around the pony, for warmth. It jerks backwards when you first touch it, but it calms down and lets you engulf it in the blanket.
You give it a few moments to warm up and compose itself. Once it looks less tense, you start asking a few questions.
“Who-- er, what are you?”
In retrospect you don't know if it can talk, so directly asking has little chance to succeed.
“M-my name is Rainbow Dash,” it says. “I'm a pegasus pony…”
And so it does talk! Well that will make things easier. Its voice sounded feminine, so you go with calling it a she. The name sounds bizarre to you, but you got more important questions to ask.
“Do you know how you ended up on my doorstep?”
She winces.
“No, not really.”
She looks away, and an awkward silence settles down. She sniffs, and you hear a faint sobbing again. You don't know what to do. Embarrassed, you scratch your neck, then decide to put your hand on her shoulder. She doesn't seem to calm down. Think quick, what can you do?
Fuck it. You pull her shoulder and embrace her for a hug.
The gesture was pretty awkward. She sounds surprised, but the sobbing stopped at least. Soon enough, you feel her wings returning the hug. They're quite soft, but they hold you firmly. You're about to let go when her grip intensifies, she brings her forelegs around your neck, and she buries her head into your chest, sobbing hard. For a long minute you hold her while she's crying on your shirt, you feel her heat on your stomach, a few tears wetting your clothes. You gently stroke her back and her mane, and wait for her to compose herself.
After she's done, she moves her head backwards and rubs a hoof over her face. She blinks a couple of times and rubs her eyes, going back to a normal sitting stance. She retreats her wings and takes a long breath.
“Than--” she begins with a cracking voice. “Thank you,” she completes. “I needed that.”
You give her a faint smile.
“What's your name?” she asks.
“Oh, I'm Anon.”
She giggles a bit with a smirk.
“That's a weird name.”
“My name, weird?” You frown. You invite that crying pony into your house, and she makes fun of you? You’re not letting that happen. “Says the pony named Rainbow Dash?”
She stops giggling. “Hey! My name is totally cool!”
“Your name is literally the lamest, dumbest name I've ever heard!”
She gasps.
“It's like your parents had you, and when the nurse asked 'Hey what do you want to name your kid?' they looked at each other and went 'Uuuuh, we have to name it?' And your mom looks at you and sees your rainbow hair, so goes 'Rainbooooow..?' And then she muttered 'Gosh' and the nurse heard 'Rainbow dash! Wow, what a great name!' Of course she was being sarcastic, faking a smile, and everyone was embarrassed!”
“Buzz off!” She throws her hooves in the air. “You think you're better? At least my name shows who I am! You? You're literally nothing! When the nurse asked your mom 'What's his name?' she went 'Aaaah... none?' And the nurse thought your name was A-none! A-NON! Because she was DUMB, and your mom was equally DUMB!”
“Shut up,” you stand up, “you don't talk shit 'bout my mom!”
She unfolds her wings -- causing the blanket to fall -- and hovers a little above your head.
“Well maybe YOU should stop saying stuff about mine!”
“You're one to talk! That's YOU who started making fun of my name!”
She grabs your face and shakes you back and forth. “But I wasn't making fun of your name, you idiot!” She looks sorrily into your eyes. “I really thought you had a fun name!”
You stare at her, both saying nothing for a few long, embarrassing seconds.
“Uh…” You hesitantly mutter. “Y-Your name is f-fun, too.”
She lets go of your face.
“T-That's what I meant.”
She lands on the couch with a doubtful look.
“Whatever,” she sighs.
You sit next to her, and approach your hand. Before your hand reaches her back, she jumps off and walks away... towards the door.
“Wait!” you call out. She doesn't stop. You stand up. She's almost touching the doorknob.
“Where are you going?”
She freezes.
She turns her head ever so slightly, puts her hoof down. You make a step towards her. She lowers her head.
“I... I don't even know…”
You hear sobbing, again.
“I have no idea where I am... No idea where my friends are…” Her shoulders sink. “I don't even know what happened... How I came here…”
You step closer.
“I tried to fly away, but everywhere... I can't find anypony... I don't recognize anything…”
You're right next to her.
“I fled for Celestia know how long... Picked a random direction, maybe east, I don't even know anymore! It's not like it matters anyway…”
You sit next to her.
“I'm in a land with beings I've never seen before... buildings I've never seen before…” Her sobbing intensifies. “When I landed, I... there's nopony... I... I didn't care anymore. I'm so…” She looks at her hooves. “So alone…”
You put a hand between her shoulders. She looks at your arm, then she looks at you. She chokes on her tears, closing her eyes. You give her a moment to calm down, and then she looks up to you.
“Then I heard a voice,” she says. “Your voice, talking to me, and your words, I could understand them! You could talk to me, and... and…”
She takes a large breath in, and out. Then another long breath. She seems to have composed herself again now. Or at least she gave the impression she did.
She grabs your hand. “I'm fine. Just... thank you for letting me in. But I should probably get going now.”
She lets go of your hand and grabs the doorknob again.
“Wait,” you say. She looks at you. “Before you go…”
There's actually a lot of things you want to tell her. Like, how does she expect to find back her way home? Why wouldn't she want people to help her? Or why not just stay here and learn more about each other? Judging by that tattoo on her flank she already belongs to someone. She probably ran (or in her case, flew) away from her owner. Although you can't see any form of harm or scars on her body, maybe she wasn't treated well? But how come you, or anyone else, have never heard of a light blue flying talking pony?
“So what?” she asks.
You realize you've been sitting here saying nothing for way too long. Think fast--
“Are you thirsty?”
She cocks her head.
“How long have you been here? Maybe you'd like some water..?”
She stares at you. You shrug. She blinks. You look at each other for a few awkward seconds, and suddenly bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
“Alright,” she says, “but real quick, y'know? I should get moving soon.”
“I'll get you a glass.” You stand up and motion her to a chair nearby. You take a glass next to the sink, fill it with water, and turn around.
She's hovering right in front of you. You almost drop the glass in surprise.
“Don't want to sit?” you ask.
She takes the glass and chugs it.
“Why?” she replies, putting the glass back next to the sink.
“...Nevermind.”
You walk towards the door, the pony hovering next to you. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you say:
“You know, if you ever need a friend, I'll be here for you. I won't tell anyone, so, yeah, don't worry about that.”
“Heh,” she smirks, “thanks, Anon.”
You open the door and step in front of the house. She follows, still in the air.
“I... If I don't find…” she says. “I mean…”
You turn to her. She sighs and gives you a faint smile.
“I'll come back soon, okay? Like, before the night.” She chuckles. “If I don't get too carried away.”
You smirk. “I'll wait for you, Rainbow Mash.”
She rolls her eyes.
“It's Rainbow Dash, you ape!”
“Whatever. Don't get lost.”
She grins, and flies away. You stay here and watch as she gets smaller and smaller in the distance, until she's nothing but a dark dot in the sky. Smiling, you come back inside and switch the TV on.
Damn sunlight. You rub your eyes. You should really fix that curtain.
You open your eyes. You're in your living room, laying on the couch, in front of the TV. You probably fell asleep watching it.
You take a minute to prepare yourself before sitting up.
You remember what happened yesterday. You remember the rainbow pony. And most importantly, you remember that she didn't come back. You're wide awake after realizing this.
“Let's not get over ourselves too quickly, ya?” You mutter to yourself. “There's probably a reason why she's not here…”
You rub your eyes more, and stand up. Maybe she found her way back home? Or maybe she did come back, but didn't want to wake you up? You walk around in your small house, looking everywhere.
“Rainbow?”
Room after room you call out, searching for anything that might be different, any trace she might have left.
“Rainbow?”
After five minutes of searching, you still hear no answer. You sigh.
“Well, fuck.”
You look at the time, and see you have to go to work in about two hours. If you have a small breakfast and a quick shower, that could give you enough time to look around in town. You do so, and are ready in 15 minutes. As you leave the house, you duct tape a paper on the door. 'Rainbow pony, I'm at work right now, but will come back soon'.
“Do ponies even read?” You ask yourself. You shrug it off and get in your car.
You drive for one hour around the town, looking everywhere: parks, streets, parking lots... But everywhere you look, you can't find her. You can't do much in one hour with only one car, and you run out of time all too quickly. Forced to give up, you head to work.
You're almost late when you arrive. A couple of workers are in the hall when you step in, eating bagels while talking to each other. They hear you come in hurriedly, and wave at you.
“Hi Anon! Broke your alarm clock again?”
You give them a forced smile and walk directly to your cubicle. As you step past them you hear them saying something, but you're not sure if they're talking about you. Not that you care. You sit at your desk, log in, and start opening your daily tasks. You pick one of them and start working on it.
Your mind is occupied, elsewhere. You're worried to death, and it shows: your efficiency is close to zero, any activity that requires brainpower takes forever to complete, and every time you miss a key, you threaten to explode with fury.
It's not even rational when you think about it. You're worried, but from what? It's just a flying, talking horse, who got lost in a world that apparently isn't hers. It's technically none of your business if she's alone and if you could be helping her instead of being unproductive here.
“Fuck off brain, you're not helping,” you mutter under your breath.
Within the next two hours you've been as productive as if you had been here for three minutes. You listen to people around you, in case they might say something interesting, but they're talking casually about normal things in their everyday lives.
“Hey, you've heard of that?”
You perk up.
“Taco bell got a brand new green sauce! Made in Germany or something.”
You sigh, and lay back on your seat. It drags on, and on, and on, and you shouldn't be here doing nothing.
You're raging internally over an excel formula error when you hear high heels clacking quickly in your direction.
“But it's from official news! It can't be a prank, or fake, or whatever!”
You raise your head. It's your boss, with... someone you've never seen before?
“I'm sorry, but we serious people don't consider Fox News a reliable source of information,” says the other man.
He's tall, rather slim, and he’s wearing a tuxedo and sunglasses. Fucking. Sunglasses. In March.
Your boss is walking behind him, and they're walking in your direction. This looks pretty serious, but probably has nothing to do with you.
“Anon?” Your boss calls out.
“Shit,” you whisper. You turn to her and say, “Yes, boss?”
Maybe he's a new trainee and they want you to introduce yourself? She opens her mouth but the guy is faster to talk.
“Agent Johnson, FBI.” He shows his plate to you. Maybe it has nothing to do with you? “We'd like to ask you a few questions.”
...maybe they're checking if you're doing your job right? But shit! You've done nothing all day--
“I'm asking you to please follow me,” says Johnson, putting back his plate in his vest.
That's it, you're getting fired. You look at your boss, she looks completely distraught. Like, she has no idea what's going on, or maybe she does and she's like "how could you do that", but either way she doesn't get it, you're pretty sure about that.
That makes you even more nervous.
'There's no way it has anything to do with Rainbow,' you think. But the fucking FBI is here, the day after you meet her, it can't be a coincidence...
You slowly stand up, and step away from the office. Johnson mentions for you to take the lead, and you proceed. You look around. Everywhere you go, everyone is looking at you, some simply curious, some downright panicked. One of them even has a satisfied grin. Fucking Ted, he has always wanted your seat for some reason.
You walk through this death row, reach the exit, and step out of the office with Johnson. There's a car parked in front of the building, and there already is someone sitting on the driver's seat. Johnson gently grabs your shoulder. You look at him, but he doesn't look at you. In fact he sort of forces you forward, reaches for the back door handle, and opens it for you. You gulp and sit in.
They drive for a few minutes through the city. They say nothing. You don't either. You throw a tentative glance at the rear-view mirror to take a look at the driver, but his look never leaves the road. You turn to Johnson, he doesn't move at all. This guy is basically a Terminator.
They stop in front of another building that you don't recognize, but that doesn't look like anything police related. In fact, it's just a large building made out of bricks, at the edge of the city, lost in the suburb. A bit of sweat forms on your forehead.
They get out of the car and motion for you to come out. They escort you inside. It's a very wide hall, light yellow walls with decorative plants in the corners. The floor is made of white-grey tiling with black patterns, it's looking kind of fancy.
You spot a few doors, and possibly an elevator at the bottom of the room. There a couple of people in there chatting on the right. They look normal, casual clothing, and don't look at you.
Johnson and Driver guide you to a dark grey corridor on the left. It's a small plain corridor with lights on the roof and metallic doors along it. You can't see much, they quickly open a door and put you in a dark room.
The room is simple. One table, two chairs, dark walls, one light, one mirror. You've seen enough CSI to know this is an interrogation room.
Johnson walks towards a chair and point at the other. “Sit here.”
You comply. Not like you could do otherwise. Driver gets out of the room, and you wait. Johnson is staring at you through his fucking sunglasses. He looks dumb as fuck and terrifying at the same time, you look at him and he just stares back.
You try to lighten up the mood. “Sooo... what's up?” You smile awkwardly.
He says nothing. Your smile melts, you start sweating. Why do you feel so nervous, you did nothing wrong, did you?
“Look, I don't know why I'm here, and--”
The door opens, Driver is back already, with a handful of sheets. He nods to Johnson, who stands up and leaves the room.
Driver sits, smiling to you.
“Hello Anon, how are you today?”
The question and the friendliness surprise you. “I'm... fine..?”
“Well shoot, you don't look like you're fine, if you ask me! Why, you're all tense!” Laughing, he gives you a pat on the shoulder from across the table. “Look buddy, you didn't do nothing wrong here. We're just asking you a few questions and you'll be done with that. No harm, no yelling, no unforeseen consequences, nothing. Okay?”
His words do make you feel more at ease, but you can't help but grow suspicious. “Sooo what is it you want to know?”
He bites his lip and looks at his hands, joining his fingers.
“I'll be straight-forward.” He looks up to you. “We know about the pony.”
Your eyes widen. “The..? I-I don't know what you're--”
He slides a sheet across the table and places it in front of you. You immediately recognize it.
“We found this on your front door. This is your writing, ain't it?”
That note you left before leaving house.
“...yes, I guess it is... but it doesn't--”
“Someone else saw it.”
You raise your head.
“Someone saw it, took a picture, and told us. Of course we didn't take it seriously at first, but then another person provided better evidence of its existence.”
“Its what? This sheet?”
“No, Anon. The pony.”
You stare back, jaw agape.
“Thanks to satellite images, we were able to not only confirm its existence, but also visualize its entire trajectory the whole time. We saw it taking off from your house, getting out of your house, getting into your house a few minutes before.”
He slides a couple of sheets with pictures on it. The pictures represent your house seen from above. Some of them show a winged pony sitting there. And in three of them your are standing outside with her.
“Let me sum it up for ya. There was an alien in your house for a bit longer than five minutes.”
You stare at the pictures.
“We only want to know, Anon. That's an amazing luck, don't ya realize? You met an alien!”
Is he seriously implying you might not know about your luck?
“And that will make up for a wonderful story to tell your grandchildren! But now, this story, you have to tell us.”
He said something about evidence. About more evidence. Did someone manage to get more than just pictures?
“What happened to her?” You ask.
“Pardon?”
“You said someone found her…”
“I…” He blinks. “You may have understood it like it, but--”
“She said she would come back…”
“She... she said?”
“Tell me! Where is she? Do you know where she is?”
“Anon--”
“Maybe she's heading back home right now! Maybe she came back, but you took off the sign! D--”
“Anon!” Driver shouts.
You breath heavily, staring at him. You realize you're standing up now. You swallow, lower your head, and sit down. “Sorry, I... I'm just--”
“You're worried, I get that,” he says calmly. “But we have the situation under control. We know exactly where it-- where she is, and…”
“Where is it she is?” You interrupt him.
He sighs. “Anon, you don't need to--”
“I need to know where she is.”
He pinches his nose. “You don't wanna know where she is--”
“But she said she'd come back!”
“And well she didn't!” He walks around, waving his hand. “And I'm telling ya, she won't!”
You stand up. “How can you be so sure?!”
“Because we know where she is right now!”
“So tell me! Where is she!”
He raises his voice, pointing a finger at you. “I'm not telling ya--”
“Why!?”
“Because you don't want to hear it, An--”
“Yes! I want to, I need to know!”
“Anon please!”
“Why won't you tell me!”
“You don't get to ask questions here Anon! I am the one who--”
“You're the one who knows nothing! Who are you to claim to know anything about her?”
He steps forward. “Anon, I'm not repeating this! Y'all sit down this instant, and--”
“I'm not sitting down until you answer me!”
“I ain’t answering your questions A--”
“Do you KNOW where she is?!”
“Yes we know--”
“SO YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS?!”
His face is red at this point. “Yes we know!”
“WHERE IS SHE?!”
“ANON!”
Your throat is sore. “WHERE IS SHE!”
“A--”
“WHERE IS SHE!!”
“IN THE MORGUE! THE MORGUE IS WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW!” He snaps at you, two inches from your face. “THE FUCKING MORGUE, ANON!” He turns around. “THERE!” He raises his hands. “HAPPY, NOW?!”
...What?
“She was flying above a forest,” he continues, looking back at you, “and there was a damn hunter down there! He mistook her for a fucking duck! That dumbass looked up, saw something, and shot it! That's what happened, Anon! That's the last person who saw her! That's the evidence we got, her fucking corpse!”
You stand here, dumbstruck, while he goes back sitting on his chair.
“You wanted to know, Anon? Now you do.” He rubs his face and you sit down. “That's why you're so important, Anon. You're the last, the only person to have interacted with her. And apparently, you've even talked to her.”
You hold your head in your hands.
“Everything you remember is goddamn important, and you know it. Because we might never have this opportunity again.”
You rub your eyes.
“So please, tell me, what did she tell you.”
You put your hands down, and stare at your knees.
“She said…” You whisper. You're shaking.
“She said she'd come back soon…”
It's funny, really, how a colorful talking horse can change your life.
It only lasts a moment...
...and then it's gone forever.
And it leaves a mark, there, inside your head, into your heart, onto your soul. It's nothing, barely a dream, a little slice of life that you're glad to share, and that you're glad you shared.
You told them everything. The crying pony in your garden. You inviting her to come inside. You exchanging your names, making fun of each other. Cheering her up...
It wasn't much, really. Come to think about it, it shouldn't have affected you more than that. But she was lost and in need of a caring friend. And you happened to be what she exactly needed: a hint of hope in the unknown.
Did you learn anything out of it, except maybe that aliens exist?
Probably not.
Did it matter?
Probably not anymore.
You were given a day to rest after that, and then everything went back to normal, as if nothing had happened. One year later, you'd probably forget about it, if not a month...
No
You decided she deserved more than that.
You decided she deserved to be remembered.
You decided what happened deserved to be remembered.
You decided to make her go down in history.
You decided to write her story.
As you grab a pen and a sheet, you say out loud the title of the story that would change the world:
****
Rainbow Mash
The flying, talking horse
****
FIN
Author's Note
I should say that I am sorry
And yet, here I am, extremely proud of it.
