A Nightmare For A Good Dream
Alone you are. You’re all alone standing over your grave. The tomb lay completely empty and the audience gathered around your coffin is at a total of one person. That one person being the priest saying his last words on your death. You lay in the coffin. No one to remember you. Nobody loved you.
The nightmare ends. You shake yourself awake from the recurring nightmare. Your pegasus wings flutter as you try to confirm that you’re still in reality. Your hooves move up to your face and rub it back and forth, removing any material that may have gotten stuck in your fur overnight. Your apartment: completely empty.
Though you’ve acquired a good amount of money through being a book salespony at the local bookstore, you find that the larger-sized complex made you more and more eager to work. You find that your job gives you comfort that eventually you will find a friend and that someone will appear at your funeral when you finally do pass. However, it draws no comfort and you continue to have that nighttime horror.
Convinced that you must find some companion, you make your way to the pet store. A pet was easily the best option. They were simple animals, something that you could concentrate on, something to make you forget life’s worries, and perhaps the keys to helping you get over your terrible nightmare.
The door to the doorbell rings as you enter the pet store and a clerk helps you over to the section where you are allowed to obtain a pet.
Going over the characteristics of each animal, you search for one that seems the greatest match.
“The most common request we get is for a dog,” reported the sales pony, “Are you interested in a dog?”
“Let me take a look,” you examine.
The clerk guides you over to the dog’s section of the store. To your surprise, none of them move to greet you, and none of them gave you a good feeling. Staring down at them, you feel sorry and unhappy. There was nothing about them that made you want to adopt them.
“You’re not a very big dog fan, are you?” asked the clerk.
“How can you tell?” You answer.
“The dogs will be able to tell whether you like them or not,” explained the clerk, “and they don’t find a lot of interest in you. Let’s try another pet.” the clerk guided your attention away from the dogs. There was no bother in getting an animal that didn’t like him.
After many animals, you find yourself being able to describe the animal flaws that you see in a single word or phrase. Parrots: too noisy, cats: too needy, lizards: don’t do anything, snakes: creep you out, tarantula: don’t even get you started… After many hours of looking through the shelves of strange animals, you decide you’re getting a turtle. The turtle seemed the best option for a pet for you, but still doesn’t make you feel as if you are going to enjoy it. The turtle yawns in your hooves as you stand at the counter and get ready to check out and adopt.
The wait for a simple animal becomes unbearable before long. the turtle, the food and the tank become heavy in your hooves and you start counting the ponies standing in line in front of you.
When you count all the way up to four ponies, you lose your count when the dogs in the cage directly adjacent to the checkout counter start in a riot towards the edge of their cage before stopping and whining. Each animal seemed to be begging for something and you look to see what it was that the were after. According to what you can find, there was nothing they should be after. You ignore the issue and look to count six ponies in front of you in line.
The issue with the dog still racked your mind even after two minutes had passed. The dogs kept whining, the cats purred non-stop and even the turtle in your hooves seemed to be pawing at the edge of its tank.
You take another look around and your gaze finally lands on a yellow mare with a pink mane. She stood mostly near the edge of the gate at the dog pen, but took mostly to herself, petting a dog every once and a while before looking off toward the entrance for the majority of her time. She was likely somewhere in the age limit of 9-10 years old, but had something about her that interested you and made you want to be around her.
Curious, you take a step away from the line to ask the mare a question.
“You’re a natural,” you tell her gleefully, startling her, “how do you do that?”
The filly turned, slowly her face seemed scared, but beautiful without a doubt.
“Oh, sorry. I Uh…”
“No, that’s okay little one,” you comfort, “what’s your name?”
“I-I…” She responds.
“Where’s your parents?” you ask as her adorable cheeks start to become invisible behind her long mane.
“They’re...m” the ‘m’ in her statement coming out in a short burst.
She was clearly blushing, and her eyes closed with pain before hiding behind her mane. You can’t help but like seeing the filly. Even in her saddened state before you, she’s completely adorable.
“Are you okay?” you ask, startled.
The filly ended up being so caught up in the moment that she forgot to check the entrance. Moments after she ducked behind the new mess of a mane, a rather mean-looking mare jumped into the pet store.
“I can help whoever’s next!” called the clerk of the building. You realize you’re next, but instead leave the turtle in its cage at the line where you stand and then walk over to the poor filly it seems that you have upset.
You pet her mane out of the way and speak to her.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you,” you finally tell her.
She raises her head out of her fur for a moment. She inhales and opens her mouth for the shortest time before the mare that entered the store moments ago called at a tone that the whole store could have hear just as easily as you, standing right next to her.
“Come on, Fluttershy!”
Your ears just about ring with pain. Being under the same aura as that sound made you eager to run away.
“Are you her mother?” you ask, turning to meet her.
“Caretaker!” the mare shouted, definitely not in the best mood on earth.
You looked over your vocabulary for the word caretaker. The name of the filly at your hooves name was Fluttershy. She was an orphan. The small mare slipped herself away from your hoof and gathered herself to go over to the mare waiting for her.
Immediately when her mane left your hoof, you felt empty inside. She meant something that you just couldn’t quite obtain.
“Sir?” asked the cashier at the register, “Are you next?”
You couldn’t respond at the moment. Something inside you forced you to watch as the angry guardian took the stranger far away from the pet store.
You needed to go after them. There was something that you needed to do with them.
You run out of the pet store at full speed. You look left and right to get a reading on where they are. They are stopped at a crosswalk half a block down the street. The sign turns to a walk signal as you watch them. The filly in the arms of the caretaker struggles to loosen the grip of the angry master, but to absolutely no avail.
Struggling, you flap your wings to gain speed on them. They eventually approach the opposite side of the street where a building layered in dust reads “shelter.” It was rare one would ever see an orphan, so it is understandable that it would be a general shelter rather than orphanage.
As you gain on the two mares, you start to overhear the older one rambling: “I swear, this had better be the last time you run away to look at animals! Why, Fluttershy? This is getting OLD!”
Your ears hurt again as they approach the entrance to the shelter. You cut them off last minute as the cruel caretaker prepares to open the door.
“And what’s this?” she asked.
You pant for a moment as the mare places her hoof down and gives a sharp squeeze around the wrist of the filly beside her.
“I...I’d like to adopt this young filly?” you ask, with a weak face.
The angry mare throws Fluttershy at you and starts to walk through the door.
“Keep her!” she yells, “I’ll make-up the paper work! Forget this!”
Fluttershy wept in your arms and you hold her head close. You notice the three butterflies of her cutie mark on her flank. To think you were raised on a garden with many butterflies. You were meant to see her here.
You tell the filly it’s all right. You’ll never hurt her.
Your nightmares ended. Long after you’ve adopted the mare, though, the nightmares were replaced by the same recurring dream. You’ve dreamt this dream many times. You dream about how you found the mare you’ve came to love more than anything a pony could love.
Many years pass and your small filly finally became a mare. She’s still the most beautiful thing that you’ve ever seen.
You go out to read the newspaper. Your filly, your Fluttershy has made it on the cover. She’s saved Ponyville from nightmare moon and made so many friends. Your darling Fluttershy whom you’re so proud of already.
Author's Note
If any of you have suggestions on how to make this better, please tell me and I will fix it. A dislike tells me:... nothing... And as always, like if you enjoyed, bye!
Thank you,
The Derpy Doctor.
