Oblivion

Summer Sun - Year 1561

She left yesterday. It didn't feel right. The wind reminds me of yesterday. Maybe she'll fly through that wind just to get back here. I'm waiting.

She was awesome. It wasn't like Twilight, who I have known for so long. She still whispers in my ear—memories flutter in and out like a sudden jump in time where the only things you can keep within you are the emotions and lines that curve at just the right slope, or make you feel like you are cloud nine, forgetting about the world. She told me that she left, though. I wish I forgot that moment, sitting on a cloud, watching others go by—can dragons float on them? I can't believe I forgot that too.

Maybe Twilight can help me figure that out. Maybe she can tell me how easy it is to move on, take a cloud and zip out of here. You know? Carry me away to a far distant land, where it showers just right and shines most of the time. A land where drought is nearly non-existent, a natural occurring event stretching due to the fact that nature can only block so much of the hatred and evil out; a projection of death through nature.

It sounds weird, thinking like this. I never was like this. I remember, vaguely, that when I sat down before them—they were red, I remember—I would count them—forgotten how many there were—she came in—she hates me now.

Holding my head, I walk into the lobby, or what I call, the living room. Filled with books, a place where business and luxury collided. I sound smart when I describe it like that. Maybe those little red ones will take me to her again.

I smile and sit on the couch, waiting for little Ms. Friendship to come down and greet me. I want to give her a hug today. I think I can remember why I want to, though. Today was her day, when she... did something. No—don't tell me, I did not forget today! What is today! What is today!?

Groaning and moaning in pain—a memory flashing before my eyes—another—another, tears falling down her face. She came, she left, another day lost in the winds of time, a door flew open, curse words fluttering in the breeze before creating havoc in the one I lo—she didn't like that.

"Spike!"

I watch as little Ms. Friendship came down the stairs, her eyes wide and her brows twitching in agony. A spur of mumbles and concerned, yet meaningless jargon flew out of her mouth like a rapid fire cannon, one like Pinkie's but slightly less energetic, the splurge of words throwing recklessness to the wind. She does care, yes. She says she wants me to be safe, she says she wants for me to remember. Something about her, a her? Not one I know of? Is it her? Yet she does not tell me. Whenever I ask, she just tells me to think hard into the past. She doesn't drop a hint, not even a slight one. I want to know, but can you show me—it hurt just letting her waste away.

She nuzzles me and holds me in her wings. "Spike, snap out of it!"

Shaking my head, I bring myself to. "Yes?"

I could tell Twilight doesn't like that response. She shivers, slightly, and a momentary twitch of her ear gives way to the truth. "I'm really worried about you, you keep doing this every morning!" Another shiver, is it mine? "I don't like seeing you suffer anymore!"

Suffering is a metaphor... "From what? And I do this every morning? Weren't we outside before?"

I hear her whine while a few tears graze down my spines. "That was yesterday, an exception to the early morning, Spike."

"Early?" A nod gives me nothing but trouble to look at it. She gave it, I received it. Another confusing day. "Am I... a problem?'

She shakes her head. "You're not the problem..." She mutters something incomprehensible near me, something I couldn't quite understand. Is she okay? Why was she muttering? Was what she said about me not being a problem just a cover up? A hoax? A dirty white lie to make me feel better?

Is she...

"Then what is?"

She stutters—a faint breeze flows into the library from the open window Twilight had kept open, a bird tweets just outside the second floor window, a coffee pot simmers on the range, and the rest fell silent, except for her—and falls into the brink of sanity, where she thought she should be, but failed to meet their standards for so long. Pulling back, her gaze meeting mine, I see those trails of tears, where the hurt stumbled upon the roots, where several died at the hooves of others. She holds onto this feeling forever, or maybe I just—forgotten.

Her eyes don't look the same anymore.

"Those... gems."

She told me about this before. I never let them go. They are red. They remind me of that color. She had them. Had them once. She has them still? I don't know. Rarity is a good reminder too. She loved me. She loved me so much. I think? Maybe. She never did? I'm not sure about that. Someone told me that the thought of being loved by another meant that they cared about you. It was like Ms Friendship, but she didn't love me like... she did. She...

She was beautiful.

Something about her—more red than a garnet, more shiny than its surface, more dazzling than any gem on the market; she was above all gems. Even Rarity didn't meet her. I guess? Maybe. Rarity mustn't be the one. I can remember her. Who am I forgetting!?

Have I met her before?

"Spike?"

Another daydream passes; I see Twilight again. "Twilight?"

A distant memory fades into the darkness that hung over us. "You... want to go see her?"

"Where did this come from?" I ask immediately. My heart is pounding in my ears.

Twilight frowns. "You were muttering something about her being beautiful..." Those wings let go of me. "I think you miss her."

"When did I do that?" Another question I couldn't help asking. "Who is she!?"

"When you spaced out again, Spike. And..." She pauses, a hoof twirling in its owner's mane. "I can't tell you that. She's told me not to tell you."

I... "But if I don't find her, I'll lose her forever!"

Twilight smirks--a face I haven't seen in a long while. "Then look in front of you when she comes..." She gets up, and turns that confident smirk into a smile for the ages. "May I get you something to eat?"

My mind is racing, my stomach is speaking French—fries?—and all the thoughts of her flood into my head all at once: a pleasant sunrise where color hovered around the sun's form. As the day passed, however, the colors dissolved into one blue hue. She loved making them.

Wait... she loved making what?

Forgotten.