Ten Degrees Above Parallel
Ten Degrees Above Parallel
Ten Degrees above Parallel
I have a pretty good life, and I know that there are alot of ponies that have it worse than me. But something is missing, something is always missing. I spent most of my days not carring about things that I didn't understand. But now I cant get it out of my jumbled head.
After so many long years of feeling incomplete, as if something wasn't quite rite, I finally found what I was searching for, and then she was gone. Poof. Nonexistant to everypony but me. As if she was never real at all.
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It all started when I had first moved into Pony ville. The first thing that i saw, was a living, breathing, peice of fluffy cotton candy. I thought that I was crazy, as it turns out, it was just the local baker that I had heard so much about. This became painfully clear to me as soon as I saw those stabbing blue eyes.
I used to have lots of friends that lived in Ponyville. Never had one pony been spoken so highly of, that bright pink mare, with the cotton candy mane and bright blue eyes. Those beatifull blue eyes. Those stabbing blue eyes.
It was so odd, to hear of somebody like that, and only be able to imagine what makes her so great. As soon as that bouncy pink pony came prancing down the street to meet me, all of my questions were answered. As will say anypony that has had the privalage to meet her, it's something that you simply can put into words.
She throws spectacular parties, as I later found out. The streamers and the balloons, the confetti and the music, it all left me speechless. I was expected to meet lots of ponies there, but I didn't. There were plenty of ponies to meet, but my vision was totaly transfixed on those stabbing blue eyes. Those happy blue eyes.
Every time I saw those eyes, I fell deeper, in what I couldn't say, but nonetheless, I fell. And fall hard I did.
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It didn't take very long at all for me to realise that I loved her. It was love that I was burried eye-deep in. We were friends for a good twenty or so days before I came to that shocking revelation.
My head had finally cracked under the immense pressure of my brain screaming at me to tell her. She was absolutely ecstatic, and so was I. I loved her, and she loved me. Everything was perfect for once. I had filled the empty space in my life. But it felt like trying to fit a square peg into a circular hole, it just felt, out of place.
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We were married a year after that fatefull day. Ironically it was the only party of hers, and for her, that she had not planned her self. Needless to say, the wedding wasn't as fantastic as we had hopped, but I insisted that she shouldnt have to worry about a party for once in her life.
The honey moon was fantastic, and I couldn't have hoped for more, less I become a greedy miser. The food was great, the relaxation was great, and the well needed rest was the greatest of all.
As we crawled into the soft white sheets of the bed, I felt urgently ill, but not so bad that I wanted to bother my pinkie pie. Mine, she was mine, and I was hers, for ever and always.
The pain and unesieness subsided soon after we were comfortably acquainted with the pristine sheets. And just before I had drifted to sleep, I saw her eyes. Those stabbing blue eyes.
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I woke up in the plush white bed, but it felt bigger. Why was it bigger? I couldn't feel her warmth either, but i could still feel her hug. This is really wierd. The bed seemed to grow around me as I lazily opened my eyes. I was stuck in a box, and it wasn't pinkie hugging me. I was being forced to hug myself.
I was insane.
I was in a padded box.
I was wearing a strait jacket.
But there were still those peircing blue eyes.
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It slowly dawned on me who those stabbing blue eyes belonged to. I looked out of the tiny window, into the night sky, speckled with Lunas beautiful stars. I saw something less pleasing to the eyes as I was backing away from the minuscule portal into the outside world. I saw my reflection, and I saw my eyes. They were mine. They were my stabbing blue eyes. The stabbing blue eyes that had watched as my only love was killed, murdered, assaulted, stabbed.
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It came as a sudden rush, like a title wave of emotions that washed over me, filled with jellyfish. What I could only assume to be my sanity returned to me. I could still be insane, for all I know. I don't really know how it feels to lose my mind, but right now, I feel normal.
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I think it is obvious to see that if I did regain my state of mind, it isn't all the way back yet. I'm having a bit of trouble trying to talk in the right tense, or other grammatical errors. Or chronologically for that matter.
So in case you didn't understand what happened, pinkie was stabbed to death, while you sat there and watched. You eventually went insane with the grief. I tried to write the from the mindset of an insane person, thus the lack of description and horrible writing structure and what not. Most mistakes that I made where intentional.
If the idea of the story gets enough positive feedback, I will write I more detailed and correct version of this. Perhaps one story for every "scene" in this.
Any and all constructive criticism is very welcome.