“Cinnamon! Wake up, you don’t want to be late for school again.”
Cinnamon’s eyes fluttered open and stared vacantly at the ceiling. Despite going to bed early last night she still felt the effects of fatigue washing over her. Groaning in displeasure, she groggily dragged herself out of bed and trudged over to the bathroom. Making her way towards the sink, she turned to face the mirror and gazed at her reflection.
Her auburn mane was tangled and unkempt, fraying in erratic directions. Streaks of dirty blonde ran through her bedraggled hairdo. Frustrated at the state of her hair, Cinnamon rummaged through the contents of the nearest drawer before fetching out a standard grey comb. Lifting the comb to her mane, she began her work.
Cinnamon’s coat was a much lighter shade of her hair, and a cutie mark of a beaker full of a blue liquid adorned her flank. Her disheveled tail hovered slightly above the floor, a single streak of tarnished gold running through, and two minuscule wings graced her sides. Cinnamon gritted her teeth as she worked the comb, attempting the task of straightening her mane. The comb was handled unprofessionally, and only seemed to worsen the condition of her hair.
Setting down the used comb, Cinnamon gazed at the mirror triumphantly. Her mane hadn’t appeared any more orderly, but Cinnamon was content with it. She hastily exited the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, and rushed down the stairs. The sounds of clinking utensils and running water grew in volume as Cinnamon descended.
“Cinnamon, you slept in. I made you a muffin for breakfast but eat it fast because -oh my goddess!” Cinnamon’s mom turned around and practically dropped the bowl of batter she was mixing at the sight of her daughter. “Cinna…” she whined. “Can’t you fix your hair nice once, for me?”
“But, it looks cool like this.” Cinnamon said, barely audible enough for her mom to hear.
“Talk some sense into your daughter, will you.” Cinnamon’s mom swatted a stallion sitting at the end of the table with her spoon, getting some batter on his muzzle.
“She’s a growing young mare, let’er have her fun.” The stallion spoke, not looking away from the newspaper he was buried in. Cinnamon’s dad tsk’d, a grim look coming over his features. “Another break in,” He added, “Some no good kids beat a mare within an inch of her life.”
“Another pegasus?” Cinnamon’s Mom had a worried expression. Her father nodded slowly, his expression darkening. “Where did it happen?” she asked.
“Maple street.” he said.
“Goddesses!” Cinnamon’s mom cried out, grabbing her daughter and embracing her tightly. “That’s only a block away!” She gazed worriedly into Cinnamon’s orchid colored eyes.
“Mom, I’ll be fine, I swear.” Cinnamon uttered, struggling against her mom’s vice-like grip.
“That’s what you said last time!” Cinnamon could have sworn her mom was almost ready to cry.
“I-I’m going to be late.” Was the only thing Cinnamon could think of. Her mom took a deep breath before finally releasing her.
“You’re right,” Cinnamon’s mom spoke apologetically. “I’m sorry, but it's my job to be worried about you.” She said while ruffling Cinnamon’s already messy hair
“Moooooom, I spent all morning getting my hair right!” A sincere laugh escaped Cinnamon’s mom.
“You kids with your crazy hairstyles.” Her mom remarked to herself, finally done with her fit of laughing. “Okay, I won’t hold you up any longer. Have a great day at school, and if you see any strange ponies, run the other way.”
As Cinnamon dashed out the front door, the glare from the morning sun had her avert her head and grimace. A cloudless sky loomed over her and the gentle ambience pervaded the otherwise silent suburb. Cinnamon briefly nodded at her mother, who waved back as she took off down the street.
Cinnamon galloped downhill along the road when the laughter of ponies resounded, causing her to come to a screeching halt. The laugh was distinct. It was a laugh she’d come to known. Shaking away the painful memories the laugh bore, Cinnamon hesitated before sighing and turning towards the origin of the noise. She heard a voice call out.
“Well, well, well, if it isn't midget wings. How's flight practice been going?” jeered a conceited unicorn as two grinning earth ponies encroached on Cinnamon. The unicorn’s white mane was well-groomed, and his dark blue coat gave the impression of a starless night sky. His stubby tail was amusingly short, but well maintained, and a cutie mark of a constellation complemented his fur color.
The unicorn’s horn radiated an indigo hued aura, and a few feet away from him the silver helm of a town guard was being lifted by the unicorn’s magic grasp. An intoxicated guard stumbled toward the helmet, lacking any headwear with his disheveled black hair exposed. The guard sluggishly lunged at the helmet only for it to be levitated out of reach.
“S-s-Stohp, in the name of the, of, in the,” The guard hiccuped. “Law!” He leaned to the side, about to fall over before catching himself. “Ye, you bastards, don’t make me come o’er there an, an,” The guard didn’t finish his sentence, the three ponies simply laughed at the stallion.
Upon the laughter ceasing, the unicorn once again turned his attention towards Cinnamon. “Hey Cinna, can you help me figure this out? There's this really, and I mean really dumb pegasus that goes to our school. Girl’s too stupid to realize that she could just fly there instead of walk. I’m trying to figure out why she just doesn’t save everyone’s time and just drop out already,” The unicorn paused momentarily. “Think you can help me with that, hmmm?” Cinnamon took a moment, choosing her next words wisely.
“So when are you going to stop beating around the bush and ask me out, Midnight?” she replied, bluntly.
“Excuse me!?” The unicorn named Midnight blanched at the statement and stared in disbelief. The two earth ponies with him backed away, giving him some space. “Are you implying that I would ever even think of dating one of your kind!” he snorted, the premonitions of anger coming over his features, the helmet lowered in his telekinetic grasp as his focus was directed completely towards Cinnamon.
“Sure, why not? Mom always said the colts who pick on you the most are the ones that like you a lot.” her eyes shifted and landed on the guard. They locked eyes. She nodded to him and a moment later he nodded in understanding. Despite the alcohol dampening his agility he sprang into action alarmingly fast, snatching the helmet out of the unicorn’s grasp with his teeth, not even sparing the unaware unicorn a second to respond. The unicorn glanced at the guard then stared back at Cinnamon.
“Did you..?” Was all he said before getting cut off by the slurred voice of the guard.
“Now, Now yer all gettin’ thrown into the slammer, ya hear me!” He attempted to tackle the unicorn but he easily dodged him being fully aware now.
“Did I what?” Is all she responded. The unicorn’s eyes widened in anger after realizing he was just played the fool. He pompously stuck his muzzle in the air before declaring.
“Fine, enjoy your cheap hat guard. We have much better things to do anyway.” He and his two lackeys pushed past them, the unicorn named Midnight whispering a quick “Watch your back, pegasus.” before disappearing down one of the many streets in town. As Cinnamon watched the three ponies vanish from sight, her ears perked up at the voice of the drunken guard.
“H-hey, thanks, thanks a bunch for a, a helping me here, yeah. What, whach’s your names anyway?” the tipsy guarded stumbled closer to Cinnamon. With the way his forehoof was out it looked like he was trying to wrap it around her shoulder, but she was able deftly dodged it.
“Cinnamon Bun, you’re welcome.” Cinnamon curtly responded.
“Good,” The guard paused to hiccup a few more times. “Good name, yeah. My name’s Brass… Brass Blade. I owe ya girl, just you know, call, whenever ya need me.”
Cinnamon watched the guard stagger off into the distance, her thoughts still clouded with todays events. The distant ringing of a school bell dispersed these thoughts as she snapped back to reality and a mental alarm went off in her head.
She was going to be late.
Author's Note
co-written, proofread and edited by Thaums a bretty great guy.
“This is the second time you’ve showed up late, young lady.”
Cinnamon Bun shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze still locked with the professor as his stern voice resounded in the room. The stares of seemingly the entire class were fixated on Cinnamon as the scene unfolded. Cinnamon started to speak, but her words stammered. Her body tensed up as the Professor slammed a hoof on her desk, agitation coming over his features.
“Young mare, if you have the audacity to hold up this class then you should at the very least have the decency to explain why.” The professor's eyes bored into Cinnamon’s. She tried to match her teacher’s stare but just couldn’t hold her gaze against him. Shaken, Cinnamon started to speak.
“I-I overslept, and there was some unicorn who tried to shake me down on the way here.” Cinnamon stuttered out, averting her eyes from the professor.
“Oh, so we’re blaming this on a unicorn now are we?” The remark earned Cinnamon a few sneers from unicorn classmates while others cringed knowing how poor of a decision blaming a unicorn was. A malign grin formed on the professor’s expression. “Well then, why don’t we get this supposed aggressor's name?”
She was in a bind. Midnight Star, the son of Moon Chaser, mayor of Harvest, the man most likely in charge of her teacher’s salary.
“It was bad that it was a unicorn already, but why’d it have to be him?” Cinnamon thought to herself, quickly mulling over her options.
The situation was a lose, lose. She could either tell the truth and be called a liar, or not answer at all and still be called one.
The professor leaned in towards Cinnamon. “Well?” Cinnamon gulped. Her mind was telling her no but…
“Midnight Star.” she whispered under her breath only audible to her.
“What was that?” the teacher said almost mockingly as he cupped a hoof to his ear and edged closer to her.
“Midnight Star.” She said again, just loud enough for everyone to hear in the quiet classroom. she could have sworn someone in the back of the room winced so hard it was audible. The teacher stood idle for a moment, seemingly dumbfounded by her answer when suddenly he spoke.
“Blaming your superiors now are you?” his eyes narrowed and his voice dripped with cold malice.
“But!” was all she managed to get out before the teacher swiped his hooves across her desk, knocking all of her books to the floor. Every earth pony and pegasus in the room felt just a bit more unsafe.
“That boy is a prodigy and worth more than anything any of you pegasi will ever amount to in your pathetic lives!” The teacher yelled, momentarily lashing out at all pegasi in the room, not just her. All the ponies in the room flinched at the professor’s sudden incursion. Cinnamon saw him as not far from a snake. The mental image of his hissing forked tongue made her quiver before she saw something out of the corner of her eye and shifted her attention to her right.
Her gaze met with an earth pony on the far end of the classroom. His coat was a bright columbia blue and a hazel mane draped over his forehead, a single streak of red running through. They briefly exchanged looks before the condescending cough of the professor had her quickly turn back to the front. The professor glared at Cinnamon before beginning to speak.
“You. Are. Dismissed.” He said through gritted teeth.
The deafening roar of students conversing filled the cafeteria. Cinnamon had taken her seat at a table secluded from the rest of the hustle and bustle of the lunchroom. Her eyes were fixated on a pink slip that laid motionless on the wooden surface of the table in front of her. She didn’t bother looking up when she heard someone take a seat across from her.
“You really blew it this time,” chided a familiar voice.
“It’s unfair and you know it, they can’t just punish me like that!” Cinnamon stared moodily at the pink slip as she pawed it in between her hooves. “You know, Notes, I read a book about Princess Celestia. I doubt she’d like any of this.” she mused. Brushing the slip off to the side, she lifted her eyes towards the pony sitting across from her.
Fiddling with a pencil sat the same colt she had momentarily exchanged looks with before being kicked out of the classroom. He eyed the slip inquisitively. “What’s that?” he pryed.
“Detention slip.” She said unceremoniously. “I’m supposed to stay after school for however long Mr. Page sees fit. From how mad he was I’m guessing that’s one, two, maybe three centuries.”
“C’mon, stop sulking,” badgered Notes. “Besides, have you heard? The Timberwood Library got a rare alchemy tome added to it’s shelves. I think it was called ‘The Book of Neighbon’.”
Cinnamon’s eyes widened as she exhaled loudly. “Don’t tempt me Notes, I’m in a lot of trouble already.”
The cyan colt simply shrugged. “Well I mean, it probably won’t be around for tomorrow.” he added wryly. “You know how those rich folk are.”
Cinnamon twitched.
“What do you want, Notes?” queried the sullen mare. Notes let his pencil fall from his hooves before speaking up.
“Well, you know, your parents are bakers, right?” He inquired, edging closer to Cinnamon. “And you know how I’m taking cooking classes, right? So here’s the thing; I’m really bad at cooking.”
“Notes, I haven’t cooked a day in my life, unless you count toast.” Her expression deadpanned. Notes gaped.
“But, your parents…” He trailed off in disappointment.
“My parents cook all my meals for me, I never had to learn,” she explained before pointing an accusatory hoof at her friend. “By the way, are you a good politician?”
“Uhm, not really. My dad’s the mayor’s assistant though,” he affirmed.
“Isn’t that the same thing as being a politician?” she reasoned.
Their conversation was cut short by the sharp buzzing of the school bell. All the students began to rise from their seats and file back to the classrooms.
“See you after detention!” Notes jeered as he followed the crowd of students.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re there with me next time!” She retorted, going her own way.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Cinnamon grimaced as she toiled at mopping the classroom floor. Mr Page surveilled her from his desk, never letting her leave his sight. He idly toyed with a key in one of his hooves as if showing it off before sliding it into one of the compartments of his saddlebag.
“Don’t miss a spot young mare, the janitor doesn’t deserve to clean up after you.” He crossed his hooves looking sternly at her.
“Isn’t that his job though-” Cinnamon tried to get a word in before Mr. Page yelled.
“No talking! I won’t hesitate to keep you here all night if I have to.” He threatened but with the tone of his voice it sounded more like a promise. But the promise of rare books left cinnamon undeterred.
“What if we made a deal?” she asked.
“What did I just tell you!-”
“Hold on, just hear me out for a second.”
The irritated professor’s ears perked up slightly. He stared attentively at the pleading mare before giving a defeated sigh and gesturing for her to continue. The silence was broken by Cinnamon once again.
“What if I gave you... a billion bits.”
There was not a trace of detectable sarcasm in her voice.
“A billion... bits?” Page asked incredulously as his eyes narrowed in uncertainty.
“Yeah, want a billion bits? Just let me go for the night.” She gave a smile that seemed to annoy the teacher if nothing else.
“How about instead of that, you actually finish mopping and then you get to go home?” The teacher replied, his anger rising.
“Look, it’s easy, not hard. I just take out a loan and give it to you, it’ll be my problem after that.” Veins had started to bulge from Mr Page’s forehead and his cheeks were flushed with anger. Getting up from his desk, he walked right up to Cinnamon and brought his face so close to Cinnamon’s that their muzzles were almost touching.
“Why don’t you just do what you’re told for once in your miserable life before I hit you?” he said in a voice audible for only her to hear.
“Mr. Page, I think you’re missing out on a seriously big windfall.” Cinnamon kept smiling and gave her teacher a pat on the shoulder and back. He struck her with his hoof once, knocking her to the floor, yelping.
“You’ve earned yourself a caning, young mare!” he yelled with barely restrained rage, walking out the classroom door and slamming it, knocking over a pencil holder and spilling its contents all over the floor. Papers scattered like leaves over the room.
“You stay in there and don’t move.” He said, muttering something under his breath. He paused to reach for his key to lock her in.
His blood ran cold. By the time he noticed his key was gone, he heard the sound of the door locking from the inside. Through the window stood Cinnamon with a triumphant smirk. In her hoof she jangled the keys mockingly.
“Hey, really sorry about this teach but there's this new book in town that probably won’t be around-.”
“Let me back in this instant!” Came the muffled screams of Mr. Page as he banged his hooves on the door, his breath fogging the glass window in it’s center.
“Will do.” she said walking up to one of the windows on the adjacent side of the room and unlocking it. “All open for you teach, sorry about this, you can keep me after class tomorrow but I gotta be somewhere today!” Cinnamon said ecstatically as she threw the key to the floor and climbed out the window, going airborne momentarily before plummeting head-first into the ground, the soft grass cushioning her fall.
Pulling herself up, Cinnamon took a moment to brush aside some dirt that had been caught in her coat before the sound of the door breaking down had her snap back to her senses. She made her escape, sprinting across the schoolyard and into the streets. The distant yells of her teacher could be heard but she was too far away to make out anything comprehensible.
The sun made it’s slow descent beneath the horizon. Cinnamon’s gallop eventually eased into a trot as the school receded off into the distance. A thrill accompanied the familiarity of the situation. As she navigated the city streets, a massive building came into view. The structure was very practical, efficient, and built with the utilitarian flavor of earth ponies in mind. The exterior was made of unpainted cement. The words “Timberwood Public Library” were displayed on a wooden sign hung above the entrance. It didn’t try to impress, and if you wanted a book there was nowhere else to go.
Behind a window the Book of Neighbon was on public display in the library. Her attention was drawn to the many signs bolted onto the building’s walls. One depicting the words “No Pegasi Allowed” stood out among them.
“Gonna pick you up soon, just need to get a few things,” she mused, resuming her walk. Her pace quickened with each step as she drew nearer and nearer to her home.
The sun was barely visible on the edge of the horizon when Cinnamon halted, panting. She had taken the long route home to pay the library a brief visit, and she was beginning to regret it. Her surroundings had began to become increasingly familiar. Out of breath, she slowly pushed onwards. “Home is just around the corner,” she thought.
Her house came into view. The relief she felt was fleeting as it came into focus. Something was off.
The door was slightly ajar, as if the house was left in a hurry. The windows were shattered, shards of glass debris littering the ground. But what scared her the most was the silence.
There was no one to greet her at the door. No one to yell at her for being late. Only uncomfortable silence.
Cinnamon checked to make sure this was the right house before hesitantly pushing the door open and entering.
“Hello?”
A stygian darkness obscured the room. An unbearably pungent odor made her wince as she peered into the blackness. Straining her eyes, Cinnamon could only make out the faint outlines of the interior. Blindly running her hoof against the wall, it stopped upon coming into contact with what felt like a light switch. She paused, a foreboding sensation coming over her, before flicking the light switch on.
As the kitchen illuminated, Cinnamon’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her home was in a state of disrepair. Chairs were tossed to the wall and a table was flipped on it’s side. Kitchen utensils littered the floor along with pieces of broken plates. Something else caught her eye, though.
Lying on the floor in bloody heaps were the lifeless bodies of her mom and dad.
