Warning: No ponies till chapter 1!

In the blink of an eye, everything can change. So forgive often and love with all your heart. You may never know when you may not have that chance again.

I've always loved that poster on my wall. Its meadow landscape and cursive font clashed entirely too much with the more cold and dark vibe of my room. The walls are a deep black that seem to suck in any available light like the black vacuum of space itself. Any other poster or furniture in the room is of a darker hue, all of which just makes my favorite poster stick out even more. It really shouldn't be called a poster though. In actuality, it's a painting created by my great grandmother, made with such precision and feeling it would make Picasso ashamed of his work. Ok, I may be exaggerating, but its sentimental value makes it that beautiful to me. I've been told to never frame it though. It has something to do with the wear and tear of the piece making the words have a deeper meaning. The message was something that had been passed down in my family for generations, or so I'm told. I've taken the first half of the phrase to heart, but the second half depresses me. I guess it's the invincible young adult part of me that doesn't like to think about that.

I've been sitting in bed for about five minutes since I started having these thoughts. Ugh, it's too early for soul searching. If I keep at this for much longer without caffeine in me, I'll end up with a headache. Groggily, I peel back my blanket and slide slowly out of bed. 8 hours of sleep and I still feel like I haven't closed my eyes in weeks. I grimace at the alarm going off on my dresser. It's truly the perfect metaphor for a love-hate relationship. The alarm clock does everything it can to piss you off in the morning, but without it there, it'd be harder to be at your best, or at the very least, on time.

Normally I'd let the alarm run for a while and listen to my favorite morning show stars. It was a classy morning show with only the finest dick jokes and sexual innuendos. Although crass, it was a nice way to start the morning. Whatever conundrum or dark thoughts happened to enter your life the day before, it all melted away in the witty commentary on the arrest of a man who committed a crime so ludicrous and silly that the jokes practically wrote themselves. Despite that, I just want some peace and quiet this morning. The quiet suits me during summer break when all I want to do is relax. I've never had that exciting of a life and I grew accustomed to solitude.

I begin to stretch all of my limbs simultaneously, provoking a groan loud enough to be mistaken for a yell of pain. I chuckle as I think back to any sleepovers or overnight events where I had done this and caused everyone in the vicinity to come rushing into my quarters believing I was screaming bloody murder. To my family however, it's just a symbol that I'm awake. I admit that it is a bit too loud, but it's not my fault stretching feels so damn good in the morning. I inhale and exhale sharply as the process wears down.

Time to start the morning routine. This is literally my least favorite part of the morning. All of the tedious hygienic actions and precautions that need to be made in the morning are what tear me out of bed. All of it is necessary though. I think if everyone could just roll out of bed without needing to bathe and immediately get their coffee and bacon then start their day, the world would be a much better place. From bed to bacon. Perfection. Maybe I'd actually want to leave my warm bed if it guaranteed immediately receiving bacon.

I turn to my door and sigh. Another inevitable morning of inevitable mundane undertakings. Although it still takes time, I find that letting my mind go numb for the upcoming events makes it bearable. I proceed to walk towards the door and let instinct kick in while my mind sits back.

As I begin to slip back into cognitive thought, I take in my surroundings. I am back in front if my closed room door where I began. Only this time, I have dawned my normal black slip-resistant shoes, white socks, blue jeans, and a red (my favorite color, thank you subconscious) t-shirt with no logos or designs. My skin still feels raw from the ridiculously hot water I had no doubt bathed in. I always took scorching showers. It's not uncommon for me to find a blister or two on my shoulders caused by the scalding hot water. I couldn't tell you why I take such hot showers. Maybe there's some sort of "baptism by fire" metaphor about it. If my showers aren't hot I don't feel clean, which explains why my showers are hot, but not why they're flesh-peeling hot. I open my door and move to the washroom. Steam is still pouring out of the door like a sweat shop. I step inside and look at myself in the mirror.

I scoff as I realize just how long it's been since I've looked into the mirror. When I'm rushing to get ready for morning classes I may glance for a few seconds to make sure everything is where it should be, but it's been a solid 4 months since I last analyzed myself. The first thing I notice is my dark brown hair. If the room isn't well lit, my hair is dark enough to appear black. Right now it is styled in a tangled mess as I have yet to run a brush through it. I don't care or have a preference to any style hair really. I tell the barber to surprise me and I rock what I get. The next thing I notice are my eyes. To any passerby, my eyes look like any other pair of blue, but on closer inspection, one would notice that my left eye actually has a ring of white on the inner iris. Imagine looking at the planet Saturn. If Saturn was black and its rings blue, with space behind it being white, it would look like my eye. My lips are full but not large. They have a nice red color which has caused me to be accused of wearing lip gloss from time to time. Everything else on me is of average size in proportion to my head. I stand at roughly 6 feet.

Two disorders have caused me to not exercise or sleep correctly, and as a result my build is somewhat pudgy. Thankfully my wariness of my weight has kept me from ever becoming obese. I look older. When I first started the fall semester I had a bit of a baby-face still. It seems the stress of a studious college life and losing some weight finally chiseled out my features. Overall I would say I'm decent looking, but I don't have the social life to find out if this is true or not.

After running last checks and brushing my hair, I step out of the washroom and into the living room to be greeted by... no one? I sulk a little as I realize my mom and two sisters are still down south visiting their grandmother. Normally I would go, as no sane man would miss out on Grammy's homemade biscuits and gravy, but everyone made it apparent that it was to be a "girls only" endeavor. I find my phone resting on the kitchen counter and check it for messages. Nothing.

"Well, I suppose no news is good news," I think aloud.

My wallet is sitting next to my phone. I pocket both and begin to head out the front door. It's muggy outside as is to be expected with all the recent rain, but with the pollutants and pollen gone, as well as the cool morning air still lingering, it's easy to breathe. I begin to head down the street towards the nearby diner. It doesn't take long to get there, especially when I have something to think about. I open the front door and head inside. The first thing I'm hit with is the smell of food and the immediate response is a watering mouth. It's at this point I realize I skipped dinner last night. It's a cozy establishment, owned by a local family. The walls are lined with various newspaper clippings and vintage photos giving the place a 1950's look. A redheaded woman dressed on a blue Polo shirt and black shorts comes out of the kitchen.

"Hey Mark! Go ahead and sit anywhere."

"Thank you Heather," I respond.

Heather nods and returns to the kitchen. I head over to one of the booths next to a window sill. The restaurant is always cold and being next to the window during the summer helps. I take a look around the restaurant and take note of the patrons. A couple of faces I recognize, but I don't have a name for them. There are only 7 tables besides mine. Business here was never spectacular, but I guess it was enough to keep the place running. After a few minutes I look up to see Heather approaching my table with an empty mug and a pot of coffee.

"Well howdy Mr. College-man! Long time no see," She remarks with her slight southern drawl.

"Howdy yourself," I respond. "So what's new?"

"Oh," she begins as she pours coffee into the mug. "Not much really. Town's as dull as ever. You should know nothing ever happens here."

"Heh, why do you think I left?"

"Ugh, I would kill to be you, but sadly I ain't got the money or smarts to get a job that'll pay enough to let me out of this dreary place."

"You could do what Jessie did and become homeless. Move from state to state doing odd-jobs."

She laughs. "Yeah, and I suppose I could also lose all self-respect and become an alcoholic while I'm at it. No thank you. Anyway, you want the regular?"

"You still remember after 10 months?"

"How could I forget? Two fried eggs over easy, four bacon strips, two slices of toast, and a glass of OJ."

"Perfect."

"I know I am sugar, but did I get the order right? I'm just joshin' ya. I'll have it right out."

"Thanks luv."

She smirks and rolls her eyes at the pet name and begins to walk back to the kitchen. She had a bit of weight like I did, but in all the right places. Her shorts rode a bit too high on her thighs, but I couldn't complain about the view. She has always been relatively thick and as a result I developed a crush on her my sophomore year even though we had known each other since grade school. Despite her thickness she has been pretty lenient about the clothing she wears. Her shorts are often too short and when she's not working her shirts don't leave much to the imagination either. She's by no means a sleaze though. She didn't care about her image but at the same time respected herself enough so that she didn't sleep with any guy she didn't have a deep affection for. Needless to say, it was pretty hard to focus on studying when she was in the room. On top of that she's a redhead. My one weakness. Suddenly I begin to reminisce about my high school endeavors.

My reminiscing is interrupted by the sound of a plate hitting the table. I look down and see my food is being laid onto the table. I look up and see Heather smiling at me.

"Is there anything else I can get for you sugar?"

"A good porking."

My eyes go wide and I slap both my hands over my mouth as I realize what I just said. Heather just doubles over with laughter.

"I am sooooooooooooooooooooo sorry! I don't know what I was thinking! My mind was just somewhere else!"

"Yeah! In the gutter!" Heather gasps between bouts of laughter.

I feel my cheeks heat up and I look away. Oh god, why. My first time seeing a friend in months and those are the words that manage to slip out of my mouth. Real smooth Mark, real smooth. Heather sighs as her laughter dries up.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's not your fault I'm so hot. That's not even the worst I've heard. You just enjoy your meal, ok?

I nod and she turns to leave. I swear, she's swaying her hips even more now as she walks away. I turn my attention to the food. Despite my now lost appetite, I begin to mindlessly eat.

As I take my last bite I look up and notice that there isn't anyone else in the restaurant save me and the employees. I look over again to see Heather approaching the table with a black book in her hand. She arrives at my table, but rather than setting down the book, she sits in the booth across from me. Uh-oh. Social interaction.

"So I have to ask; what in the hell were you thinking about to provoke that kind of response?" She inquires.

Damn, I had almost forgotten about my epic fail.

"Well, I was thinking about high school, and I guess I managed to start thinking about the time we had dated for a week. Then you asked the question "

"Well if by date you mean the one week where we had an awkward dinner together followed by six days of you trying to convince me to sleep with you, then sure."

"In my defense, it was like the only thing we hadn't done yet as friends."

"God, you're terrible with women."

"And apparently ten months of being away hasn't changed that at all."

"It probably wouldn't have worked out anyway, especially now that you live a state away."

"True, that and I'm pretty sure if we were in the same room together for too long we'd end up killing each other."

She giggles. "Yeah, we've both kind of been a fire and ice duo."

I stand up and she follows suit, however, she stands a little close to me.

She giggles again. "And you know what you get when you put fire and ice together?"

"A puddle?"

She puts a finger on my chest and leans in far enough for her lips to be right next to my ear.

"Steam," She whispers.

Wow, they should really turn the air conditioner on. I swear it was twenty degrees cooler a second ago.

She straightens back up and puts on a wild smirk.

"Don't worry about the check. Think of it as a welcome home present. And if you're still feeling up to it tonight, give me a call. I've got another welcome home present for you."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Th..Thanks..." I say, almost a whisper.

"Don't mention it sugar."

She turns and walks away with the same emphasized hip-sway as before. I feel numb. Not from the idea of sex, but from the suddenness of it. Back in town for just 3 days and one of my best friends just offered to have sex with me. I snap back to my senses and leave the restaurant. I pull out my phone and check it for messages. One new message from mom.

Morning sweetie. Sry couldn't make it home. Something came up and we r staying for a few more days. Try not to burn the house down. Love you.

...

Jackpot

I begin the trek home and start flipping through my contacts. I find Kevin and hit the call button.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Kevin, this is Mark."

"Oh shit! Mark? Wow, what's up man? How the hell ya been?"

"I've been doing great. Listen man, I'd love to get together and catch up while I'm still in town, but right now I need a favor."

"Sure my man, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, I wanted to place an order. You got a bottle of Captûre Red?

"Mark! You dog! 'Bout time your boring ass got laid."

"Can it Kevin. You know this isn't the first time."

"Yea, but if I remember correctly, the last time it took 3 shots of tequila and a lost bet."

"Do you have it or not?"

"Of course! Even if I didn't I'd try and find it for ya. So who's the lucky gal? Or guy, depending on how well college is going."

"I don't feel comfortable naming HER. You still live on 27th?"

"Yep, just swing on by any time."

"Thanks, I'll be by in a bit. Talk to you then."

"Hey, before you hang up, if you had a pygmy marmoset, would you prefer it be purple or green?"

"Depends, what's it preceded by?"

"A yellow meerkat."

"Definately purple. Royal colors."

"Of course! Thanks man."

I hang up the phone and begin the walk to Kevins's. Kevin is an interesting man. He's an absolute party animal. Thankfully he has morals, or else he would never have lived to be nineteen. The biggest thing I admired about the guy was that he received more enjoyment out of watching others have fun than having fun himself. He never drinks at his own parties and refuses to let any drug paraphernalia in. If anyone gets too wasted he calls cabs, and he has an amazing gift in stopping quarrels between his patrons. He constantly has a blood alchohol content of .05. He runs on alcohol like a toddler runs on sugar, but unlike the afore mentioned Jessie, he never lets the drink make him belligerent, if it even can.

Once I was pretty sure I saw him down half a bottle of Smirnoff without even blinking. The next day me and Heather took him to the hospital and had them check his liver. When the test came back, it showed that it was healthier than most. He's also outrageously unpredictable. Eventually after hanging out for so long, it got to the point where his random outbursts could be responded to. For whatever reason, when he shouted something out of the blue, I knew exactly what he was referring to. Like the last comment he made. It was pretty obvious he was helping helping to plan a party for a child and was using pages in a coloring book. Probably one about more exotic animals instead of the average dog, cat, and cow. The only thing I don't understand is where he would find such a coloring book.

I get to Kevin's house in record time. The newly found spring in my step made sure of that. I arrive at the doorstep and raise my fist to knock on the door. Just before my knuckle can collide with the door, the door flings open. I brace myself for what I know comes next. Suddenly there is an enormous pressure on my midsection and all the breath is knocked out of me. I tumble backwards and manage to fling the body off that just collided with mine. Thankfully, my attacker didn't collide with my celiac plexus and I was able to recover my breath quickly. I stood up and found my attacker doing the same. We begin to circle each other with our arms up and ready to defend. We circle for a good six seconds but the anticipation makes it feel like an eternity. Finally, my attacker makes the first move. His mistake. He attempts once again to tackle me to the ground. Now that I can see him move, instinct kicks in. The moment he gets close enough I sidestep his attempt at a tackle. He attempts to counteract this by redirecting his weight in my direction so that he at least clips me. His second mistake. This action brings him closer to me and adds even more momentum for me to use. I manage to get my arm underneath him and my other on his back. Using his already forward momentum, I guide his body in a circular motion around mine. I bring out my leg in front if his own. When they collide neither are the Victor and both lose contact with the ground. This sends both of us once again falling towards the Earth, but this time, I fall on top of his body while he gets his face planted into the dirt. In the alloted time, I wrap my arms around his and place one of my hands on the back of his head. My legs pretzel around his, leaving my left leg on top of the pile of tangled limbs, making me in control. I've rendered all of his limbs useless. Now the fun part.

"Say it."

"Fuck voo"

"Say it."

"No!"

"Say iiiit."

"Fine! Unkuh."

"What?"

"Unkuh!"

I lift his head out of the dirt. "What?"

"UNCLE!" He screams.

I chuckle as I untangle our limbs and roll off of his back. I sit up and look over at him. He scrambles to get off the ground and finally manges to sit up. He begins spitting dirt out of his mouth brushing himself off. He leans over and punches me in the shoulder a little too hard.

"Thanks for the dirt sandwich, asswipe."

"Not a problem buttmunch."

....

....

We both begin laughing hysterically. It takes about 5 minutes for us both to come down from our adrenaline fueled laughter. Suddenly my chest begins to feel tight and I start coughing profusely

"Woah man," says buttmunch as he helps me to my feet. "Let's get you inside. Wouldn't want you to die as soon as you got here."

"Thank you Alex."

We get inside and Alex helps me to the couch. He leaves and then comes back with a glass of water. I greedily gulp it down between coughing fits. After a few minutes, the coughing and chest pain die down to a bearable level.

"Alex, *cough* how many times *cough* am I going to have to kick your ass *cough* for you to learn *cough* not to charge me."

"As many times *mocking cough* as it takes *mocking cough* for you to learn to start carrying an inhaler. You know I hate seeing you like this."

"I wouldn't need it *cough* if you didn't assault me every time I came to your house *cough*."

"Which reminds me, why are you here? I happened to be walking by the window when I saw you coming up the street. I knew I had to at least see if college was making you soft."

"*cough* I'm actually here to see your brother *cough*."

"That explains why he went to the cellar. Whatchya buying?"

As if on cue, Kevin emerges from the kitchen. He's holding a very familiar looking bottle.

"Captûre Red," He says with a smug look.

"Mark!" Alex exclaims with a stupid grin on his face. "'Bout time you got yourself some poon."

"Tequila party?"

"Doesn't count."

I roll my eyes and look up at the two brothers. They are twins, quite obviously, but unlike any other pair of twins I know, there is absolutely nothing biological to distinguish the two. No crooked nose, attached earlobes or even scars or moles. As a result, the two created their own way to help others distinguish between them. They both had natural bleach blonde hair. The difference was that Alex had a single dyed streak of cyan in his hair, while Kevin had his ends dyed red (though the lightness of his hair made it look pink). Both had lean figures which, when mixed with their dyed hair, gave them both a relatively feminine look. However, Alex crushed anyone who even dared question his masculinity, and I've known Kevin long enough to realize he's actually quite the lady's man.

They were both adopted at a pretty young age. Thankfully their adopted father took both of them. The man owns a quite successful online liquor business. After the boys turned 16, he started traveling the world for rare alcohol and tasty beverages. Although he'd deny it if asked by the authorities, after he had seen the level of responsibility Kevin showed when he threw parties, he agreed to allow Kevin to use part of his collection to supply the parties so long as he properly cataloged what was used. Kevin quickly became known as the town party animal. Alex was a track and field star. The guy runs ridiculously fast. Sadly, his laziness often made his grades slip and he never got to compete in any major events. Now Kevin makes money planning parties for individuals in and out of town, while Alex is a personal fitness instructor.

Kevin places the bottle in a brown sack and passes it to me.

"*cough* Thanks man *cough*"

"You sure you don't want to wait it out here?"

"Yep. *cough* The sooner I get to my inhaler, the better *cough* So how much do I owe you?"

"Not a dime. Just think of it as a welcome home present. And if you're feeling up to it later, give me a call. I've got another welcome home present to give you."

I cough loudly, this time I can taste iron. "WHAT?"

"You know, a welcome home party!"

I sigh in relief, provoking another cough, as the worst case scenario leaves my mind.

"Alright gentlemen," I say as I stand up and move towards the door. "Good day."

"See ya," both of then say simultaneously as I leave the house.

It's been 3 hours since I called Heather. She'll be here any minute. Right now I'm sitting in the living room. My heart is beating out of my chest. This is just casual, commitment free, non-intimate sex. Just two friends using each other to relieve stress and feel good. So why do I feel so nervous? It's no secret that I have had intimate feelings for her, but when I realized it wouldn't work out, I moved on from it. Or did I? What if I'm not over her? What if we have sex and after I want something else? What if she doesn't share the same feelings? What if I accidentally hurt our relationship? What if I accidentally hurt her? What if in the middle of it my chest bursts open and she's attacked by an alien? What if-

Knock knock knock

Oh shit. She's here. Ok Mark, you got this. Just be cool. Everything is going to be fine. You're just going to have a good time with a beautiful woman and no alien is going to eat her. You can do this. I approach the door and put my hand on the doorknob. This is it. I open the door and-

...

Wow...

Beautiful. That's truly the only word in the English language to describe her. All this time of seeing her as a buddy and a colleague, for probably the first time, I'm seeing her as a woman. She's wearing a brilliant red sheath dress that hugs, nay... caresses her body. Normally someone with her curves and size couldn't pull off such an outfit, but she makes it work. She has her hair down instead of her usual ponytail. It cascades down to her shoulders like a river of fire. The outfit is complimented by a black leather purse and matching dress shoes. Heels make her feel a prostitute.

"Is it too much?" she asks in her sultry alto voice.

All right Mark, say something witty.

"Brahoolamdufarp..."

Brilliant.

"Oooh, I knew I shouldn't have worn this damn thing. What was I thinking? I'm gonna go before I embarrass myself even more."

"No! Nononono. Don't go. What I meant to say was... you look... god... I can't even put it in words."

She blushes. Cute. "You're just saying that..."

"No, really. You look astonishing."

And also really uncomfortable. I've never seen her this insecure before. Could it be she's nervous too? No, there's no way. She's too headstrong to be nervous about being with me... right?

"So are we going to stand here all night while you just catch flies with your mouth?"

Aaaaand she's back.

"Sorry, come on in."

I put my hand on her shoulder and guide her into the house. When we get to the couch I motion for her to sit and she obliges. I head to the kitchen to retrieve the wine and glasses.

"The candles are a nice touch." I hear her say from the other room.

"Yeah, sorry if they're a bit cliche. I know you don't like anything romantic, but I wanted to set the mood a bit."

"Well as long as there aren't any rose pedals leading to your bedroom, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Thank god the florist was out of roses.

"So what are you doing back there?"

I step out of the kitchen holding both glasses in my right hand and the open wine bottle in my left.

"Well, the room helps with the mood, but I thought a bottle of Captûre would do an even better job."

"My my, maybe you DO know a thing or two about women."

I set both glasses on the coffee table and poor both roughly halfway. I set the bottle down, hand her one glass, and pick up the other before joining her on the couch. We begin talking and enjoying the deep red drink. With each sip of the drink, the gap between us on the couch becomes shorter and shorter. We've been talking for about fifteen minutes.

"You know, I didn't even know you owned a dress luv."

She suddenly moved her gaze away from me and tugged at the end of her dress. She really was uncomfortable.

"My aunt got it for me. I don't like to wear it that much."

It dawns on me as I watch her grip the end of her dress. She's used to not wearing much more than a tank top and shorts and the dress actually covers more than her usual geddup does, but a dress is more... accessible. True, the shorts revealed a bit more, but what was revealed was under her control. Wearing this dress means there's a literal gap in her armor. I put my arm around her and pull her in closely which prompts her to look up at me. I set my glass on the table and use my now free hand to brush a stand of her fiery red hair out of her eyes.

"Hey, it's just us here. You don't need to feel insecure around me."

She opens her mouth to object to the accusation, but closes it and sets her own glass on the table. She puts her hand on my shoulder and uses it to pull herself up to my level. She leans in and kisses me. For a moment, it's tender and affectionate, like a kiss you would give to your spouse of several years. The moment goes by and the hormones and alcohol kick in. The kiss moves from tender to wild in just a couple seconds. It doesn't take long for her to position herself on top of me and assert her dominance. She takes over the kiss almost entirely and starts rocking her body ever so slightly against mine. After another moment she breaks the kiss.

"You know, you could be a little more liberal with your hands."

I must have a dumb look on my face because she sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Put your hands on my ass nimrod."

"Oh.. right..."

My mind is still racing at a million miles an hour, but I happily oblige to the once-in-a-lifetime request. She coos lightly and reinitiates the kiss. This time I knead my hands into her and am rewarded every now and then with a soft moan. The massage finally gets to be enough and I feel all of her weight collapse onto me as she relaxes completely. I reach my hands further down and begin to pull up her-

Ring ring ring

Heather lifts her head and looks over at the table.

"Fuck. That's my mom's ringtone," she says bitterly.

"Just let it go to voice mail."

"No, I need to take it. It could be an emergency."

We both sit up and our positioning on the couch makes it so when we sit up she's positioned on my lap. I can't help but play with her rear-end some more as she fumbles through her purse. She pulls her phone out of the bag.

"Oh... fuck that feels good. Alright, stop, I need to answer. Hello?"

...

"WHAT!?" she shouts as she quickly stands up. "Woah woah, ok, slow down. Start from the beginning, what happened?"

...

"Shit... Ok... Ok... I'll be there in a bit."

She hangs up the phone and turns around to look at me.

"My brother was just in a wreck. They had to send him to the E.R. and they're performing surgery now."

I stand up. "Holy shit."

"I've gotta go. I need to see if he's alright," tears begin to fall from her eyes. "And my mom is probably a mess, and what if he's too injured? What if..."

Her voice trails off and I see fear flash in her eyes as she mulls over the worst case scenario. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into me. She's tense and I can feel her body quivering. After a few seconds she relaxes into me and digs her head into my shoulder. She begins to sniffle and I can deep the warmth of her tears. I stroke her hair and try to get her to calm down.

"Hey, hey hey hey... Everything's gonna be fine. Your brother's going to be ok. Look at me luv."

She pulls her head out of my shoulder and looks at me. I brush some more hair out of her face.

"Listen, your brother is in capable hands, but right now you need to focus on something more important."

She gives me a confused look.

"Yourself. You've been drinking a little and you're panicking and emotional. If you're gonna drive to the hospital, you need to have a level head and be calm. You're useless to your brother if you get in a wreck yourself. Just stop and think for a moment."

She takes a few deep, shuddering breaths and looks down.

"Ok..."

"Good, now, let's get you out of here."

She nods and I grab her purse and guide her out of the house with my arm still on her waist. We get outside and I take her to her car. I would offer to take her myself, but we could never afford to get me a car nor did I have a need for one. As a result, I also never attempted to get my licence. We get to the side of the car and I open the door and put the purse inside. I turn to her once again and put my hands on her waist.

"Now, promise me you'll be safe, alright?"

"Ok..." she says in almost a whisper.

"Good. And hey, for what it's worth, even though it wasn't for long, I enjoyed being with you."

She smiles lightly and looks at me with her deep brown eyes. I lean in and give her one more kiss before watching her get in her car and drive off. Sigh... As much as I hope her brother is ok, I can't help but feel a tinge hurt that the night had to come to such a grinding halt. I head back inside and throw myself onto the couch. I groan and slide my hands down on my face. When my vision refocused I see the two unfinished glasses of wine. Would be a shame to let them go to waste.

After finishing the glasses of wine and putting away the rest in the pantry, I find myself outside walking the sidewalk. The night is clear of any clouds and the moon shines brilliantly in the sky. It's full tonight. I look up and see the stars. I almost forgot how many there were. In the city, all the light pollution makes it so you can only see a few, but out here you can see everything. It's roughly one o'clock, but having such noisy neighbors in college turned me into a bit of a night owl. I won't be feeling tired for a couple more hours. The warm alchohol in my stomach counters the cool nighttime air. Right now I feel nothing more than a small buzz. Though it isn't anywhere near Kevin's, I have a pretty decent tolerance. After the night's events, a walk through the neighborhood sounded great.

The bright moon makes the landscape in front if me relatively easy to see. When I get to the end of the road, I take a left and begin to follow the creek into the green belt. When we were in middle school, me and my friends came here to get away from home. I follow the creek further into the greenbelt and eventually find myself in a clearing.

This is where all of us would come to share stories and forget about our responsibilities for a while. I can still picture the thirteen and fourteen year old brigade of troublemakers laughing and talking in a circle for hours. I smile as I remember the time Kevin had snuck out a bottle of Budweiser and we passed it around taking sips out of it. Everyone except Kevin hated it. He proceeded to slam down the entire thing which got us all to look all him in absolute shock. He looked at us and said "What?" We all watched him for several moments to see what would happen. When we realized nothing was going to happen we began laughing again.

The memory fades and I continue walking on.. I get to the edge of the clearing and-

Shit.

I feel my foot snag on what I assume is either a vine or a tree root. I begin to fall forward. Midway through the fall I realize how this is about to go from bad to really bad. I've kept my hands in my pockets and can't bring the up in time to catch myself. I collide with the ground face first, but just when I think it's over I notice another detail to make this go from really bad to simply terrible: I'm on a steep incline. The force of gravity takes control of my body and I begin to tumble downwards. Dirt fills my eyes and mouth as stones and sticks dig into my body. My entire being aches and I feel the earth relentlessly punching into me. Suddenly, all of the pain stops, save for one spot. I've stopped tumbling and on the back of my head I can feel a sharp and hot excruciating pain. It's like someone heated a hunting knife and was slowly digging it into my skull. I am on my back and looking up at this stars through the trees. I smile when I see my favorite constellation, Orion's belt. I'd love to meet him someday. I wonder if Heather got to her brother safe. Is the underloaf a real body part? Darkness begins to creep into my vision...

I wake up to the faint green glow of dawn. I sit up and am immediately punished for my actions by an immense pain in the back of my head. I reach back and put my fingers on the back of my head. It's warm and sticky. I look at my fingers. Blood. I wipe my fingers on the ground and... wait, dawn isn't green. What the hell? I look around me and notice that everything has a green hue to it. I stand up sluggishly grimacing through the pain. I look around me and try to find the source of the light. I make a slow turn around and make observations. Just some trees, a couple boulders, a giant glowing orb, some bushes. Nothing out of the usua...

I turn to the floating green orb and my jaw drops. The light seems to disperse as if it were being pulled apart from all directions. I step a little closer to the orb. I wince as a sharp pain shoots up my leg. It feels broken. I hop on my good leg to get a bit closer. I feel warmer the closer I get to it. I'm suddenly filled with a weird feeling. No, not a feeling, every feeling. It's hard to describe. It's separate from my own thoughts and emotions. In the back of my head, it's like a total other person going through a checklist of emotion. I focus on it. All the standard emotions are there, but the spectrum seems unbalanced. The happiness and positive emotions outweigh the angry and negative. I look down at my legs and realize I'm getting closer to the light. Interesting. It's not voluntary, but at the same time, I don't want to stop. I feel so warm. It feels better and better as I inch closer.

"Pretty light."

It's in arms length now, but I keep moving closer. I lean in and...

Author's Note

So, this prologue is pretty long. Chapters will vary in length considerably. There will be ponies in chapter 1. Also, please note that I am strongly looking for critique. Even though I view this as a side-project, I'd still like to improve on my writing skills. Updates will be infrequent, UNLESS, I get enough support for it.