Nakazaniye

Shortly after my train left Baltimare, it started raining again. The weather helped dampening my mood a great deal. Although given the season, I probably shouldn't have been surprised by that. Surprisingly, I did get lucky this time in some way. We pulled out of Baltimare at one-thirty in the afternoon, and wouldn't make a single stop up to its destination. At a time like this, most ponies were still out at work, and no-one needed to travel from one city to another. I ended up having an entire cabin to myself.

When I left the city behind, it didn't come to me as depressing as I expected. Even though I still felt like crap when thinking about my parents. Sure, there would be some way to track them down. But did I even want to do that? Did I want to see them again, anyway?

I decided that I probably did. After all, there needed to be some sort of reason why I came back here, even if I hadn't given my actions much thought. But seeing as they were gone now, and with no acquaintances but Sonya left in the whole darn place, I figured I'd best move on. Everyone else had probably done the same, by now. Everyone except for tramps and downers like her, who would just keep hanging out in one and the same place until they broke down or something. I don't know. I think she made me promise to come back that evening, but I couldn't say for sure. Not that I would have come back, in any case. It's just that my memory had gotten a bit blurry after drowning an entire bottle of liquor.

I really underestimated what that stuff does to an empty stomach. Sure, it was only halfway full when I drank it. But it still knocked me out for good. The last thing I remembered was myself drowning the bottle's remnants in three heavy gulps. After that, there weren't enough functioning brain cells left to even comprehend Sonya's pointless blabbering. So, in a way my plan worked out pretty well, but I really don't seem to recall what happened next. And there hadn't been anypony around for me to ask, either. The entire place closed down sometime during my blackout. When I woke up, I found everything to be dark and empty so I just tiptoed out. As for the payment...well, someone probably took care of that, already.

With no-one else to ask, I only had my own distant recalling to count on. And my memory worked incredibly slow that morning. I was way to hungover to comprehend anything too complex. Then again, I probably didn't even want to remember what happened. One part of my brain told me I gave Sonya my promise to return tonight. Another one stated that I yelled at her or beat her up or something. Whichever one was true, she probably took it dead serious, even from the words of a drunk. Sonya wouldn't get the difference, I could tell.

Judging from another, more distant memory, I started flirting with the young barpony at some point, then slept with him after his shift ended. I wasn't so sure about that one, though. There's some morals imprinted even in my brain, and he had looked much too young for me. Besides, I woke up without at all feeling sore in certain places, so chances were that none of that ever happened.

The train rattled on across the tracks, streams of rain constantly splashed onto the windows. Before long, they turned the outside world into an impenetrable, monotonous gray. There weren't any shapes for me to distinguish between out there, and I ended up alone with nothing but my own imagination to keep me company. Though I promised myself for so many times to avoid the topic, my thoughts kept drifting back to whatever might have happened to my parents. Truth be told, I hadn't really thought about them in years. They were only blocking my path, I kept telling myself. Obstacles with no other purpose than to hold me back.

But returning to the old cottage and standing on that porch again...I don't know. I sort of had a moment, there. Ever since, even while talking to Sonya last night, my mind kept going back to this one subject. It wouldn't leave me alone so soon, I could tell. Which was bad. Because the more I kept thinking about my parents, the more I felt like breaking down and crying. I really didn't need to do that in public.

It didn't matter so much where they went. Most cities in this country were one and the same, anyway. And my chances of finding the correct one were incredibly slim, so I wouldn't even have to start with that. Something that rather mattered to me was asking how they were holding up. Neither of them took my absence to hard, I would think. But then again, how could I know? Most of the time, I couldn't even tell where my next meal was going to come from.

But still, that subject was something that kept bugging me. Were they happy? And why would they be in the first place? What did it even take to be happy in life? I often asked that last one myself, but I never had any answer coming to mind. Maybe they even thought of me as annoying as I thought of them, and were secretly glad I left?

I couldn't really tell whether I even wanted that or not. Not being missed doesn't exactly lift up a pony's mood, and I wouldn't make an exception. Then again, most ponies who still remembered me probably felt nothing but disappointment at the thought. I did hope for my parents that they just forgot about me all along, and built up a new, better existence for themselves. The idea was disgusting, but what it described probably really was the best solution for everyone. In a way, it was all my fault, anyway. Wasn't it?

All in all, it was me who ran away, and now I had best stay gone. It was the best solution for everyone, like I said. I can't even tell why I bothered coming back to Baltimare. It had been a stupid decision, of course it had. And I could consider myself lucky about only some random douchebag having opened the door to my family home, instead of anyone I actually knew. This way, there was no harm done. And before anything bad could happen, I decided to ditch Baltimare altogether. Immediately after getting up that day, I gathered my things and headed for the next best city that I actually knew a thing or two about. One that was still close enough for me to reach with my limited budget, however.

That city would be Fillydelphia. My train pulled into the central terminal at about four or five in the afternoon or something like that. I probably wouldn't have noticed our arrival in the first place, weren't it for the outside rain suddenly stopping. Well, it didn't exactly stop, but Fillydelphia Central has the pleasant advantage of being all placed under one and the same roof. Seeing the huge and dimly lit terminal outside the nearest window, I decided to quit my napping and get going. Strapping my saddlebags back around my waists, I headed for the exit.

By the time I left the train, there were already two dozen other travelers assembled outside, waiting for me to clear the way so they could get on. I had no idea where the city's sudden Exodus came from, but it was probably because of the regular working hours ending somewhere around that time. And speaking about employment, I was running low on bits. There needed to be something done about that.

One of the more individual aspects at Fillydelphia Central was a vast foyer that bordered all sorts of smaller businesses and shops. It was almost like a tiny mall, really. Including the stench and being crowded like cattle with hundreds of others and stuff. In other words, I hated it. But I also needed to gather up a few items first, and the only alternative would be heading out into the rain. I didn't exactly beam at the prospect.

There was a duty-free store somewhere around here, which I also passed by at some point. It didn't really stand out or anything, but they were selling liquor there. Needless to say, that sort of caught my eye by default. But it also made me question the logic of why such a place even existed, and why here. It wasn't like there were any international connections going out from Filly or coming in. Not from its train station, anyway. Except maybe when going to some weird griffin place up north, but I couldn't say whether any border regulations or custom control applied for that. Equestria's borders had always been more of a pretty vague concept, anyway.

Long story short, I didn't get that store or its purpose. All it did was sell cheap alcohol for a higher price than any other business would, and still get away with it. That was one reason for me not to pay it any attention and move on. The other one being my own hungover self, and a stomach that really couldn't stand the sight of any brown bottles, right now.

Instead, I headed towards a small department place close to the main exit. From what I could tell, they sold mostly groceries and magazines over there. Since I was hoping for a fresh paper to pick up, it seemed like the place to go. Some serious kind of news source, that was. Not that I cared about current events or any of that, but only those sorts of papers tended to have an employment column hidden somewhere inside. The trash cans didn't seem to contain anything useful at first sight, and I really didn't want to go digging any deeper than the top layer. I'd rather pay one or two bits extra, and still keep that part of my dignity.

Much like I had expected, the store did indeed sell the kind of newspapers I was looking for. My choice eventually went for the day's edition of the Fillydelphia Herald, which seemed to be one of the few reliable sources from around here. Tucking it away in my only saddlebag that was left functioning, I paid up and returned to the main foyer. From here, I soon had no choice than to head for the exit. I wasn't so sure on where to go next, but it didn't really matter.

Whatever. I still needed a place for me to sleep tonight, and that sure as hay wouldn't be some crowded terminal building. I'd gone for that in Manehattan, already. And after two nights of improvising a place to sleep, I was hoping to get myself at least something halfway decent to rest my bones on tonight. There weren't any hints for that kind of thing anywhere in the building, and unfortunately so. The walls were all plastered with ads for fast food and expensive clothing, neither of which had ever been among my main fields of interest.

Flinging open the entrance hall's main door, I left the crowded atmosphere behind me. The streets of Fillydelphia immediately greeted me with some fresh air and a liberating feeling, which unfortunately wouldn't last for too long. Only a split-second after my first, deep breath of cold air, my face was greeted with a cold splash of water into my face. The rain was coming down more heavier that afternoon than it had done in months, and I shuddered and groaned at the mere sight. After no more than the first twenty or thirty seconds, my coat and saddlebags were both dripping wet, and I assumed I might as well trash the paper whenever I'd first get the chance. Illegible probably wouldn't even start to describe the state it now was in.

Now, I had been to Filly before. My memories and orientation failed me just as much as usual, and the rain didn't help in any case. But I did know a thing or two about the city's outline. That of the downtown area, anyway. And if I remembered correctly, there had to be some sort of commercial district clear across the street. A place like that always contained at least two or three affordable hotels. Or at least, some place for me to stay dry. Well, to not get any more wet, really.

In any case, I decided I'd better get going. Head hung low, and a scowl of frustration across my muzzle, I started crossing the wide avenue that lay almost abandoned in this weather. Of course. Nopony in their right minds would possibly go outside with hundreds of gallons of crap dripping down on them with every passing second. That privilege was reserved for morons like me. At least, I thought, I'd have my sweet solitude reclaimed. And I'd prefer just about anything above a crowded place like the terminal. For what it was worth, I figured I'd still made the right choice by coming out here.

Needless to say, I thought wrong again.

As soon as I'd crossed the first two lanes, I heard an ear-splitting screech coming from my left. A screech accompanied by the sound of somepony shouting "Look out!" The latter was easily lost in the rain, but I still managed to catch it, just so. And even though I usually don't care too much about my own safety, I decided I should still take a look. Turning my eyes in the direction the noise came from, I started wishing I hadn't.

The first thing I spotted was a stallion rushing towards me with remarkable speed. From a single glance, I could tell it probably wasn't the only thing remarkable about him, but that didn't matter, now. Truth be told, his speed was actually starting to worry me, right along with the panicking expression on this face. Wherever he'd been headed, he must have been in some sort of a hurry, given the speed with which he dashed towards me. He also slammed his hooves into the street top right then, trying to somehow come to a stop. I suppose there really was no other way for him to avoid hitting me. Given the street's wet surface however, even that didn't work. It didn't work at all.

Oh, right. Did I also mention the carriage that was strapped to his back? It was open on top, and I could recognize dozens of wooden crates stashed on the inside. Up to the top, quite literally. It all looked pretty heavy, to be honest. And dangerous for anything or anyone it might collide with. And it was flying towards me at a pace that should really give me one or another reason to be concerned.

Still a good fifty feet away, the driver finally slipped and fell to his side. As he did, the carriage spun around and crashed onto the concrete surface with its side. Before I could even move, the wagon spontaneously decided to send all its cargo flying freely in my direction. And numb with shock, I didn't even consider moving away. For a moment, I might have also been a bit preoccupied with the driver, who cried out in pain when hitting his foreleg against the edge of the sidewalk.

It was a shame, really. Seeing how handsome he looked, and all. But my attention automatically shifted to what was coming towards myself. It was a bit more important, too. The last thing I could make out was the spinning, wooden wreckage quickly filling in more and more of my peripheral vision, until even the edges of my sight were filled with nothing but those darn crates. I wondered where this mess was possibly going to end.

Then it hit me.