//-------------------------------------------------------// A Purposeful Passing -by corythompson32298- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1: Things Will Get Better //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1: Things Will Get Better In the year of our Princess 4251, the Crystal Empire returned to Equestria after it’s mysterious disappearance a thousand years ago. Many of us knew little about the empire and it’s crystal residents. The tales about the Crystal Empire fell into myth and legend. They went from the history books to the bedtime books. I was only a young teen when we heard the news. The return was certainly surprising to us. But it was horrifying to the few who believed the empire’s existence. Even though I was skeptical of its existence, I was also a little scared. My sister would always tell me the stories when I was growing up. It was the only thing we had to distract us from the current situation. Our parents died after they caught grim reaper disease, a rare and deadly illness that has no cure. I was still a toddler when they died. My sister didn’t know what to do. She now had to manage the family farm all by herself and raise me at the same time. We used to own the second largest farm in all of ponyville, right behind an apple orchard that was not too far down the road from us. But after our parents died, the farm went completely under. It was way too much for my sister to handle. Soon we had to sell off land to new farmers to just help pay the mortgage and put food on the table. Eventually our farm got foreclosed; my sister and I had to move out. We lived on the streets in town as beggars. My sister would go around town everyday looking for work. Sometimes she would steal from our old neighbors just so we could have at least something in our stomachs to keep us from starving to death. Those were tough times for us. Every night, before we fell asleep where ever we could find a spot, my sister would tell me the stories about the Crystal Empire. I loved hearing about the Crystal Ponies. Hearing what food they ate, what they did for fun, what they looked like and so on. But the part I didn’t enjoy the most was hearing about the rise of the King Sombra. From what I know, King Sombra was once an ordinary unicorn stallion with a thirst for knowledge. He was always studying, practicing his magic, and trying to find to material to learn. Eventually his thirst drove him to a dark place where no pony dared to go. His thirst became his undoing. Sombra became mad with dark magic. His heart turned to black and his mind was driven by a lust for power. He took over the Crystal Empire with no opposition and enslaved the all the Crystal Ponies to mine in the crystal mines. I used to beg my sister to skip the part but she would always calm me by saying “don’t worry Sharp Edge, things will get better, they always get better.” Then she would tell me about how the royal sisters took down the wicked king but the king to the empire with him. Knowing that the royal sisters are always there for us to protect and help their subjects the best they can made think that things will get better soon. But they didn’t get better. One winter during our third year of homelessness, my sister contracted grim reaper disease. I was scared for her life. I tried to help her by going to every single door in town but no one would help. I tried going to the hospital but no one would help. I tried going up to everypony I ran into but no one would help. When I came back to her, she was only minutes away from death. I was crying my eyes out begging her not to leave me. She placed her hoof on my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry Sharp Edge, things will get better, they always get better.” With that she gave her final breath and passed away in my hooves. I gave out a massive wail that was loud enough for the ponies in Manehattan to hear me. I just sat their crying and staring at my sister’s dead corpse. I was alone now; I had no one to go to, nowhere to call home, and nothing to hold on to. What was I going to do? During my sobbing, I heard a deep voice call out to me from the end of the alley that we lived. “Young boy,” the voice called, “are you alright?” I didn’t answer, I didn’t want to answer. That stallion is too late. I guess that’s what it takes to get some help around here. The cries of a young colt after their family died to get everyone else to pay attention. The stallion came down the alley and tried to talk to me again. “Is everything alri--,” he stopped and saw my sister lying dead. “Oh my gosh,” he gasps, “I am so sorry.” For some reason, his apology turned my sadness into anger. Sorry? Why should he be sorry? “Why are you apologizing,” I said in my anger, “You could’ve done something but you didn’t.” “Son,” the stallion said, he got closer to put his hoof on my shoulder to comfort me, “I know what it’s--.” “NO,” I shot up as he touched me. I got a better look at the stallion, he was huge, had a red coat, an orangey-yellow mane, and a green apple as his cutie mark. But his appearance soon meant little to me as my anger sky rocketed, “Everyone always says they know what you’re going through but they don’t. They only say that to make you feel better. You never lost a sister and you were never turned down when you needed help. You don’t know what it feels like.” The stallion looked at me with sympathy. His eyes showed sadness and kindness for my situation. “You’re right,” he said, “I don’t know what you’re going through. My sister only left for Manehattan and she can return whenever she wants. But your sister is gone for good.” “Exactly,” I said, “now why don’t you just go on with your own business? I know that something you ponies know how to best around here.” I sat back down in my original spot and continued to look at my sister. The stallion didn’t go away though. He got closer to me and he put his hoof on my shoulder again. This time I didn’t flinch, I just sat there motionless. I no longer cared what he was going to do. All I wanted was for everyone to leave me alone. No one seemed to care for me before, so why should they care now? Why should they care for the poor homeless orphan colt who has nothing? No one ever cares for those who are so desperately in need. It’s everypony for themselves in this world. “Come with me,” the stallion said. Well that came out of nowhere. This giant doesn’t even know me and suddenly he is telling me to go with him? Like heck I will. “Why,” I asked, “What do you want with me?” “You look like someone who really needs a friend right now, let alone a place to stay.” I look up at the stallion; he smiles warmly at me as those we were brothers. But I look back at my sister. This seems too good to be true. Why does he want me to stay with him? He doesn’t even know me. “You don’t know who I am; you’ll be letting a complete stranger live in your house.” “Well we can at least start with our names. What’s your name?” I look up back at the stallion. Is he for real? But none the less, I give him my name anyway, “I’m Sharp Edge.” “Nice to meet you Sharp Edge, I’m Big Macintosh but you can call me Big Mac.” “Ok now we know each other’s names that still doesn’t make a difference.” “Well we can get to know each other a little better as we walk. Come on, I’ll show you to my home.” Big Mac started walking away from me but I remained seated across from my sister. I don’t want to leave her. I’m not going to leave her for some stranger would offer me a place to stay. I’m not going to leave her. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Big Mac comeback. He placed his hoof on my shoulder again. “Son, she’s not coming back,” he said, “She’s gone and you have to accept that.” Like Tartarus I will. “I’m not leaving her, I’m not going to leave her alone out here.” “Don’t worry I will make sure she gets a proper resting place. Now come, I think it’s time we get you off the street.” I don’t know what came over me but I just got up and began walking with him. I looked back and saw my sister get smaller and smaller as we walked. He doesn’t understand, her final resting place isn’t going to be some hole in the ground or some fancy tomb. Her final resting place was in the back alley of a store that sold quills and sofas. She deserved to die happily at an old age in a bed in her house or at least in a hospital. But she got a cruel one instead. Ponies say to never call a person happy until after they are dead. But how could she be happy after living three years on the street with me as a burden for her to carry? She kept on saying things will get better, but things don’t get better, they never get better. //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 2: A New Beginning //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 2: A New Beginning The short trip to Big Mac’s house took longer than expected. The road we took seemed familiar but it was hard to tell exactly where we were since all the land was covered in a thick blanket of road. But none of it mattered to me, all I could think about was my sister. Memories of us together began flooding into my head. My conscience drifted off into memory as I continued walking. I remember when I was little, about four years old, I would hide in the cabbage patches and she would come looking for me every time. She would find me most times but I was able to get away from her a few times. When I was five she began to homeschool me on most of the basic stuff. Like how to read, write, do math, all the stuff you learn to do when you’re in Kindergarten. I enjoyed every moment of it; it wasn’t often I got to spend time with her since she was always working the farm. When I was six and finished with my basic education, she began teaching me how to run and manage the farm. Getting eggs from chickens, milking the cows, harvesting crops and even trading with our neighbors. The one neighboring farm we traded with the most was the apple orchard that out ranked us. I don’t remember much of the trading skills she taught me since I usually played with a young filly that was about a year younger than me. I don’t remember her name but I do know she had an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail. Seven was when she began teaching me basic financial stuff, since it was around that time that we began leasing off land. That one never got through to me since it was pretty complicated. But I guess she wanted me to be prepared as best as I possibly could since I would probably end up helping out around the farm. At seven and a half we were kicked off our land and into the street. That’s when I didn’t see her as much as usual. She was always looking for work to make sure we had some food to eat. She would take on two to three jobs a day just to get a decent meal. There were some nights that I wouldn’t see her until very late or until the next morning. My conscience comes back to reality when we arrived at our destination. The path split off to an arch with a bunch of dormant branches wrapped around it. Hanging from the top of the arch was a big piece of wood with a giant, apple-shaped hole in the center. “Welcome to Sweet Apple Acres,” Big Mac said. “I know this place,” I said under my breath. I wasn’t quite enough since Big Mac could hear me. “How do you know this place,” he asked me with a puzzled look. “I used to come here with my sister to trade our crops for bits. I used to play with a young filly here as well.” I looked around the farm taking in all the familiar sites. I remember to the chicken house, the barren corn field, and the numerous apple trees that seemed to go on for miles. But the site that stood out the most was the unique barn like house. “Did this filly have an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail,” Big Mac asked. I turned around to look back at him. “Yeah, is she…” “My sister Applejack, she’s the one that I told you about. Like I said she’s not here, she hasn’t been here in the past two and a half years.” This puzzled me. Why hasn’t Applejack been back to see her family in two and a half years, not even to visit? Whenever we were together she would was very family orientated. She would always listen to her mother and father, never complained about any family troubles, and she even exclaimed her excitement about having a new baby sister. What made her want to leave? I was about to ask Big Mac why but he just continued walking toward the house, another time I guess. I followed behind him as he lead me to the front door. He opened up the door and welcomed me in. The front door lead to the living room, it was a nice warm environment. There was a green couch to the right of the room, a rocking chair in the upper left corner, and an old antique stove to upper corner. The walls were painted with bright, fall like colors and had family pictures hanging from the walls. There was a set of stairs that lead upstairs to left and at the upper wall of the room was a doorway that lead to the kitchen. In the kitchen I heard hooves clicking around and I there was an aroma trailing from the kitchen that smelled like an apple pie being baked. Big Mac shut the door behind us and that’s when a voice came from the kitchen. “Big Macintosh, is that you?” The voice sounded like an old mare’s voice. “E’yup,” was all Big Mac answered. The hooves came clicking toward the doorway. Coming through the doorway was an old mare with a green coat, white mane and tail both bound up into a bun, and she had an orange and white-spotted neckerchief around her neck. Her eyes went directly to me the minute she walked in. “Well hello youngin’, who are you,” she said in kind and hick voice. I was hesitant to answer; I’m not exactly the most social colt you will meet. Thankfully Big Mac answered for me, “Granny this is Sharp Edge, he’ll be staying with us for a little bit.” “Sharp Edge,” Granny Smith looked as if she was trying to remember me, “Oh yes, you’re Butternut’s little brother. I remember when you and your sister would come over and you and AJ would always play together. How is your sister doing these days?” That one question made me feel the most awkward and uncomfortable I have ever been in my entire life. How am I supposed to answer that question? “Uh Granny, we need to talk in the kitchen,” Big Mac and Granny Smith began walking toward the kitchen. “Just make yourself comfortable Sharp Edge,” he said turning back to me. I walk over to the couch that was right by a set of stairs and sat myself down. The two were talking for what felt like an hour. I only hoped that Granny Smith could be reasonable to let me stay. She seems like a nice lady but that was only first impressions. She could be insecure and not want random street ponies coming into her home. She could be insensitive and closes off her home to those who are desperate. My train of thought is interrupted when I hear the small clicking of tiny hooves walking down the stairs. Coming out from around the corner was a really small filly, probably no older than four or five, with a yellow coat and a bright red mane and tail. She had a magenta bow in her hair that seemed almost twice the size of her head. She noticed me the second she was down the steps. She walked up right to me and stared at me with a big smile and even bigger eyes. “Hi,” she spoke in a squeaky hick voice, “I’m Applebloom, who are you?” “Uh, I’m Sharpedge,” I answered awkwardly. It was pretty uncomfortable to be stared at with those eyes. “I’ve never seen you here before, where are you from,” she said persistently. “I’m from Ponyville, I live in town.” “Really? I’ve been to Ponyville many times and I’ve never seen you there before.” “Uh…well I--” “I really like your mane, it’s very pretty,” she said while playing with my white mane, quickly changing the subject. “Thanks,” I answered. “So where are you REALLY from,” and we’re back to awkwardness. “Um, I am from--” “Applebloom, quit making our guest feel awkward,” said Granny Smith as she and Big Mac reentered the room. Applebloom jumped off the couch and ran back up the stairs; I will probably never understand that fillie’s energy. Big Mac and Granny Smith both looked at me. “Alright Sharpedge,” said Big Mac, “Granny Smith and I have decided that you can stay for as long as you want.” My eyes widened and my heart leaped with joy, my days on the street were finally over. “We’ll let you stay if you help us around the farm, we could use the extra hooves.” I jumped out of the couch and onto my hooves, “Thank you so much, I will work as hard as I can. You don’t have to train me either, my sister taught me everything.” “Well that’s good,” said Granny Smith, “I’m happy that you’ll be staying with us Sharpedge.” “Come on Sharpedge,” said Big Mac, “Let me show you to your room.” Big Mac began walking up the stairs and I followed him up there. He lead me down a long hallway to a door at the end. Inside was a single sized bed in the upper left corner with its sheets untouched, a night stand with a lamp on top next to the bed, a dresser on the right side of the room with a window above it, and a tall mirror stationed to the left of the dresser. “This is our guest room, we don’t use it very often so pardon the dust all over the place.” I didn’t care about the dust, I was just so happy to finally have a bed to sleep in and not a concrete slab anymore “Thank you for all this,” I said, my eyes began to tear up and I got a little choked. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes; we’ll start work tomorrow by selling produce in town,” said Big Mac, “winter won’t be over for another two weeks. So be ready to go by 10:00 AM tomorrow.” I nodded in response and Big Mac left me alone in the room. I couldn’t believe that I was finally living in a house. After three years of living on the streets, I’ve almost forgotten what being in a house is like. I walked over to the bed and felt to comfort of the sheets. The texture was something I haven’t felt in a very long time. If only my sister could’ve lived to see this day. Just like that my happiness turned back into depression. My thoughts of what could’ve been if my sister had survived. She could be here with me and not stuck on the streets. She could finally sleep in a real bed and not in some alley. She finally be able to have food in her stomach and won’t have to steal to get it. If only she had survived. Eight months have passed since I was taken in by the Apple family. Since then, I’ve grown rather fond of them. Granny Smith has been the sweetest old mare I have ever met. We always find a new thing to bond over every day, from apples to some of the most random topics you can think of. Applebloom has almost considered me her second older brother, she remind me of myself when I was her age. She will run around out in the orchard and try to have some fun with me while I’m working. Big Mac is like a big brother to me now. He is always there helping me and supporting me. He has taught me new things about running a farm and has even trusted me enough to let me manage my own section of the orchard. I definitely feel like I’ve become part of the family. But it wasn’t long before a member of the family returned to Sweet Apple Acres. One afternoon, I was working on my part of the orchard, bucking the trees of their fruit. I was a little less than half way done when I noticed a figure walking up the path that leads to the front entrance. My section was a on a hill so I was able to see the figure clearly. Although, I couldn’t make out who he, or she, was. I was able to make out the orange outline of the figure. I then saw Big Mac come running out of the house and stopping half way to the figure. The two just stood looking at each other for a second and then ran at each other hugging one another. He then brought the figure inside the house. I figured it was probably a close friend of Big Mac that he hasn’t seen in a while. Once I got my cart full of apples, I strapped up and haled the cart back home. I stopped in front of the silo and was about to unload until I heard Applebloom yelling from the window. “Sharpedge, come inside quick,” she shouted. Her head shot back inside quickly. I trotted to the front door and went inside. The first thing I was a young mare with an orange coat and a blonde mane and tail, sitting on the couch by the stairs. “Applejack,” I questioned. She turned her head and saw me standing at the door. “Sharpedge,” she questioned in response. She got up from couch, came over to me, and gave me a big hug. “My goodness I thought I never see you again,” she pulled back from her hug and got a good look of me, “You look almost like that same gray coated colt I used to play with, except you’ve gotten pretty big, Big Mac working you hard?” I was little surprised she knew that, “Yeah, how did you--” “Oh they’ve been telling me about how you’ve been staying with them and helping out on the farm. Woo wee, you’re bigger than a Fillydelphia Eagle left tackle.” I always loved those little isms, “You haven’t changed a bit AJ.” She smiled at my comment “So why did you start living here, I thought you and your sister had your own?” When will that question ever stopped being asked? My heart began to sink when she asked that. I don’t want to relive that moment again, not after I just got over it. “I better get back to work,” I responded. I walked out the door and headed back to silo to unload the cart. My mind was swimming with memories of that day. I tried to block them out as best I could. I don’t want to return to that time. I’ve worked too hard to get over myself and I’m not about to let eight months of progress go to waste. I unloaded my cart and went back to my part of orchard to finish bucking. I continued to buck until the sun was nearly fully set. I had about four to five trees left buck and then I could end the day. I walked back to my section after my eleventh trip? I’ve lost count after about three round trips. I continued to buck the trees and the apples fell right into my cart. I was almost done when I heard Applejack call my name from nearby, “Hey Sharpedge,” she said. I looked back and saw her standing there giving me a small, gentle smile. “Hey AJ,” I said as I continued to work. “Sharpedge, they told me about what happened to your sister, I’m so sorry about that.” “It’s not your fault, there’s no need for an apology.” “Yes there is, I shouldn’t have asked you about your sister.” “You didn’t know she was gone, it’s not your fault.” “Sharpedge--” “Look AJ, I know you’re trying to make me feel better about the whole ordeal but my sister died eight months ago. The last of my family is gone and I’m alone now, I just have to accept that.” I bucked the last tree and the apples fell into my cart. I was about to make my way back to the farm until AJ stopped me by saying, “That’s kind of a ridiculous philosophy to live by.” “Easy for you to say, you still have your siblings and your grandmother. You still have a family.” “I didn’t always think that.” Confused, I dropped my cart and turned around to look at her, “what do you mean?” “You wanna know why I left for Manehattan? It’s because of this farm.” “This farm? But what can be so negative about the farm that made you want to leave? Didn’t like the lifestyle?” “No I loved being a farm filly, but this used to be my parent’s farm. They built their life on this farm and worked it every day. But they died when I was six leaving me, Granny Smith, Big Mac, and little baby Applebloom. I took their death the hardest. My ma and pa meant the world to me, losing made me feel more alone than ever. Just being here was too much for me because I couldn’t help but think of them every single day I lived here. That’s why I went to Manehattan, to start over.” “So what made you come back?” “After about three years living with my Aunt and Uncle Orange, Manehattan just didn’t feel like home. Every night I would always look out my window and wonder what Granny and Big Mac were doing right about then. It wasn’t until I realize that I had to go home, my parents may be gone but I still have my family.” Then right from behind her, a small light flashed from behind. AJ turned her head back and saw on her rump were three bright red apples. She had got her cutie mark. I was a little surprised and also happy for her. AJ on the other hoof was thrilled beyond comparison. She jumped up and down all around me and rushed back to the house to show the rest of her family her new cutie mark. I strapped the cart back onto my back and continued to walk back to the silo. I was proud for her getting her finally getting her cutie mark. She used to talk about how cool it would be someday to get her mark when we were kids. I used to be excited about getting a mark too but I lost interest in it real quick after all of the events of my past. But I still think it would be kind of neat to have one. What would it look like though? Maybe like a sword or, even better, an axe. That would be so cool. Later that night, I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep but for some odd reason I couldn’t. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, my eyes wide open unwilling to shut. I tried counting sheep, drinking water, staring at the ceiling, everything. It wasn’t until around 2 o’ clock that I finally drifted off into sleep. Then I found myself inside the worst dream in my entire life. I found myself in an area of pitch darkness. I couldn’t see anything, not even my own hooves. I looked around to see if I can find even the slightest hint of light. Then I heard a voice whisper from the darkness. “Sharpedge,” the voice called. It was a female voice and it had a haunting tone to it, making me feel very uncomfortable. The voice kept calling out to me saying my name over and over again. “Who are you,” I shouted in response. There was no response. Suddenly, a cold wind came out of nowhere; the chill crawled up my spine like spider. The wind grew stronger and eventually snow came with it. A full blast of wind and snow was given; I covered my eyes from the snowflakes. When I uncovered my eyes I found myself inside a dark alley that seemed very familiar. I looked around the area, calling out, “is anyone around here?” I looked down the alley and saw a figure, not far from me, lying down on the ground. I walked towards it out of curiosity. The closer I got, the more familiar it became. When I was near the body, I found out that this wasn’t any random body, but the body of my sister. Seeing her like this again over whelmed me with sadness. My knees gave way as I fell to ground crying. Suddenly, she leaped up at and grabbed my throat between her two hooves. I could fully see her face now. Half of it, the left side, was fine, it was still her normal white coat, silver mane and blue eyes. But the right side was half decayed, maggots crawling in and out of her skin, there was no eye in her socket, blood dripping from her face, and bone and muscle is visible. I was scared beyond belief. She opened her mouth and began to speak with a raspy voice, “why didn’t you help me?” I woke up shooting up right, screaming my head off as though I were being murdered. My body is covered in cold sweat and my breath is completely gone. I heard heavy footsteps running towards my room. Big Mac came barging in with a look of extreme concern on his face. “Sharpedge are you alright? What happened,” he said. I was so shocked I couldn’t get a word out, whatever did come out of my mouth was complete gibberish. Big Mac walked over and held me in his hooves to calm me down. “It’s ok, it was only a dream.” But it wasn’t just a dream, it felt real, it was real. I have never been so scared in my entire life. I couldn’t comprehend why that happened. I got over her death after eight months. So why is she coming back to haunt me? //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 3: Cabbage Crash //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 3: Cabbage Crash "How often have your nightmares been occurring as of late," asked the therapist sitting across from me. He's an older stallion with a blue coat, a light orange mane, and a cutie mark in the shape of a therapist couch. He sat on the chair with his hind legs crossed, a clip board on his right hoof and a pen on the other. His mane is pulled back and is glistens with product. I slouched in the chair across from him. Just something about these therapist chairs that make them extremely comfortable. "About twice a week, maybe three times," I responded to his question. "That's good, we're making progress," he said as he wrote on his clipboard, "Now, for the past three months we've talked about what goes on in your dreams, now I think we should try to find why you are having these dreams. The sooner we can rid you of this syndrome, the better." "Ok," I responded. I just want these dreams to go away. It's been three years since the first one and as time went by they became worse and more frequent. It got so bad that I began to walk around in my sleep. I would get out of bed and start hitting stuff in my room, I almost hit Applejack when she came into my room one night during one of my worst dreams. The Apple family took me to the doctor to find out what the heck was wrong with me. Turns out I have some sort of anxiety disorder called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD for short. I don't why I have it but I've got a hunch on why I am suffering from it. "Now you have been having these dreams for about three years. Has anything happened within that time that may have caused these dreams," the therapist asked. "No," I responded. "How about within the past five years?" "Well...there was one thing that did happen that I really don't like to talk about." "You don't have to share it if it's too hard for you, but just know that the later you choose to share the longer it's going to take to help." "No it's ok," I took a deep breath as I recalled the memories of long past, "My sister died almost four years ago." "I see," he responded as he wrote on his clipboard, "How did she die?" "She had Grim Reaper disease, something that my parents also died of when I just a little colt." "Did she die peacefully?" "No, I can remember what she looked like in her last few minutes," I got choked up as I remembered that fateful day, "Her eyes were lifeless, she was alive but it didn't feel like she was there. She as pale as the snow on the ground, she could barely move at all. Worst of all was the blood; she bleed from her eyes, her nose, and she even coughed up blood." Tears began to form in my eyes, "Her last minutes on this world were the worst of her entire life. No pony should ever have to suffer such a death as she did." The therapist continued to write on his clipboard, "Did she say anything before she passed away?" "She told me not to worry, that things will get better, they always get better," I felt two tears leave my eyes as I finished, "And that was it." "Do you believe what she said? Did things get better for you?" "Yes, no, I don't know. I thought things were getting better, I finally got a roof over my head and food in my stomach, but I still feel empty and these dreams don't make the situation better." "What about the Apple's, do you feel like a family that you can belong to?" "Don't get me wrong doc, I love all that the Apples have done for me but they aren't my family. I'm only staying there because they let me stay there in return for helping out on the farm. I have shelter and food because I work for it, not because I am one of them." The therapist continued to write down on his clipboard. He took a minute to look over his notes before looking up at me, "I've noticed a pattern in your dreams that your sister would appear and blame you for your death, am I correct?" I nodded, "Yeah that's right." "It would seem that you might have some sort of guilt because of her passing, do you feel responsible for her death?" Ok, now that crossed a line. I have never felt guilty for my sister's death. It's not my fault that she died, I didn't give her the disease. "Can we move on to the next question?" He was about to ask the next question until a clock sitting on a stand next to him went off. "Looks like that's all the time we have for today," he says as he silences the clock. I got up from my seat and made my to the door on the right side of the room. "I'll see you next week," he said as I opened the door, "And Sharpedge, don't feel like you are alone in this world, you still have family out there." I closed the door as I exited the building. As I made my way through Ponyville, I began thinking about what we talked about. But of all the things I could've thought about, that last question he asked me kept tugging at my brain. Did I feel like I was the one to blame for my sister's death? No don't be ridiculous, you didn't kill your sister the disease did. I am not the murderer here. But am I to blame? I've always wondered what would've happened if I could've just tried a little bit harder to get help for her. Maybe if I had just reached out a bit more I could've run into someone who was a doctor just getting off work or maybe... "Hey Sharpedge," I heard a voice coming from behind me, interrupting my train of thought. I turned around and saw Applejack running toward me. She seemed in a bit of a rush and looked a little annoyed as well, "Hey I need you to do me a favor." "Sure AJ," I responded, "What do you need?" "I need you to look over the apple cart till I get back," she pointed over the big wooden cart that had a counter sticking out of it. On top of the counter was a medium sized bag full of bits. "I have to rush to help out at the farm, a bunch of beavers dammed up a river near the east orchard and now the water is flooding the entire east side. I need to get a friend of mine to see if she can convince the beavers to un-dam the river." "Uh, did you just say she can convince the beavers," I asked, since when have beavers been able to communicate on the same level as Equestrians? "Yeah she can communicate with all animals." "How does that even work?" "Look I'll explain later I've got hurry before a quarter of our orchard is drowned," she then ran off towards the farm, "I'll be back as soon as I can," she shouted back as she ran. I've never gotten the opportunity to run the apple cart all by myself. I've been on a few marketing trips with Big Mac and AJ a couple of times but I've never actually sold an apples all by myself. Well it shouldn't be too hard, I mean how hard can it be to sell a fruit? I've just got to remember what Big Mac and AJ did when they were selling. "Come on folks, come and get some fresh apples straight from the trees of Sweet Apple Acres. I've got red delicious, golden delicious, red gala, macintosh, you name it we've got it." Education through observation does work because within a few minutes ponies were lining up to buy apples. Within a 30 minutes I sold about 200 bits worth in apples. I continued to sell and I was enjoying every moment of it. "Apples, get your bright and juicy apples, 2 bits a piece while they-" "LOOK OUT," I heard a voice screaming towards me. I looked around to see where the voice was coming from until WHAM, I was slammed across the town square. My body skidded across the ground until I was halted by hitting a nearby cart full of cabbages. The hit made me dizzier than a colt on an out of control carousel. My ears were ringing something fierce. I shook my head to get rid of the dizziness. My head spiked with pain from the blow. I looked around at the accident, cabbages spilled all over the ground. But right next to me was a cyan colored pegasus filly, she looked about the same age as me, with a rainbow colored mane and tail and a cutie mark that had a primary color light bolt coming out a white cloud. She was shaking her head as she stood back up. She looked down at me, "You ok there buddy," she asked. I nodded, "Yeah sorry about that, new trick. Here let me help you up." She grabbed my right hoof and pulled onto my feet. "It's ok," I responded, "You training for something?" "Nah, I was trying out some new tricks I learned. Hope I didn't hurt you too much." "No I'm fine, a little bump on the head won't kill me." Suddenly, a voice from behind us shouted as if he saw a murder before his eyes, "NO MY CABBAGES!" "Uh oh," said the filly, "Run!" We then proceeded to run away from the angry cabbage sales pony as he shouted at us and for the sake of keeping this story rated T lets just say that his words were exactly friendly. We ran back to my cart and stopped to catch our breath. "So, you got a name," I asked huffing for air. "Yeah, name's Rainbow Dash," she answered. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sharpedge." "Sharpedge huh? That's a cool name." "So you new to Ponyville? I don't remember seeing you around these parts before." "Yeah, me and my dad just moved here last week and on my birthday. We live in this big cloud house near the outskirts of town." "That's cool, so do you fly a lot for fun or do you compete?" "I used to fly for the National Juniors Flight League but now I just fly for the heck of it. I'm hoping to join the Wonderbolts when I get older." "Hold up, the NJFL, are you the filly that did the sonic rainboom at the Junior Flight National Championship?" "Yep that's me! It was really cool too. It was the last lap, me and this colt from Manehattan we're tied neck and neck. I flapped my wings as hard as I could, suddenly I felt this rush of energy come over me. It felt like a fire was roaring from inside of me. I began to inch further in front of him and then, BOOM, I blasted through the barrier, firing off a sonic ring color. I left my competition in the clouds as I tore through the finish line. After the race this baby appeared," she pointed at her rump showing off her cutie mark, "I knew that I was destined to racer." "That sounds pretty awesome." "Awesome? Try legendary! I am the first and only filly to ever accomplish a sonic rainboom. I am THE best flier in all of Equestria." Oh great, a pony with a bloated ego. "So what you, what's your cutie mark like?" "I don't have one," I replied, "I'm just an ole' blank flank." Having a cutie mark used to be exciting for me, I always wondered what it would look like. But after these past few years the dream has sort of died away. It still would be neat to get one but it's just not a big priority right now. "Wait, you're a blank flank and you're ok with it," Rainbow Dash said perplexed. "Yeah, nothing wrong with being a blank flank," I said as I started picking up the apples that fell out of my cart when she flew into me. "Well no but don't you want to know what you are meant to be?" "Not really, I'm not a big fan of a single mark determining your will in life. I believe a pony should be able to choose his or her own path. A little bit more independence in life than having a butt tattoo pulling the strings for you." "But your mark is a-" "RAINBOW DASH! Where are you," shouted a deep voice from above. We both looked up and saw a stallion pegasus with a purple-blue coat and a rainbow mane. "Down here dad," Rainbow shouted back. "It's time to come home sweetie, dinner time," said Rainbow's dad. "Ok dad, I'll be home in a minute," she looked back at me, "I gotta go, I'll catch you later Sharpedge." "See ya Rainbow." Rainbow turned around and took off into the sky. I watched her trail vanish right behind her. I continued to clean up the mess around my cart. She seemed like a nice filly, although the whole ego thing may get a little bit annoying. When I finished cleaning I saw AJ walking towards me. "Did you the whole beaver situation fixed," I asked. "Yeah," she replied when she got closer, "they removed their dam and our trees are saved. Unfortunately the beavers were anything but civil about the whole ordeal. So how have things been here?" "Pretty good, except for an accident with a new town member that just moved here. Flew right into me, throwing me across the town square and into that poor guy's cabbages," I pointed to the stallion who across the way, weeping over his crop as he cradled them. "Let me guess, was this new folk a pony with a rainbow mane?" "Yeah, how did you know that?" "Rainbow Dash is always practicing her maneuvers in my part of the apple orchard. She flown into so many trees it's a wonder that she doesn't have any brain damage. Her recklessness has caused many of my apples to hit the ground and turn rotten. That pony annoys me more than flea on a bull." "Doesn't sound like you're a fan." "No duh Sherbuck." She went over to the money bag on the cart counter to see the profits, "Well it looks like we've made a decent amount of profits for today, let's head back home." I was about a tied myself up to cart before AJ stopped me, "Oh wait I forget to tell you, Granny Smith needs you to go by the market and get some stuff for supper tonight, here's the list and some bits," she handed me a small list of groceries and a small bag of bits. "Ok, you think you can handle haling the cart back home?" "Sharp, asking me if I can handle this is like asking Celestia can she handle raising the sun. I'll see you back home later." AJ tied herself to cart and began walking on home. "Alright catch you later." I turned toward the direction of the market and began making my way there. Rainbow didn't seem that bad to what AJ said about her. Besides the big ego and the bragging, she seems like a nice filly. Although after meeting her and almost getting my flank chewed out by the cabbage guy, I think I've had my fair share of "interesting" characters for one day. Hopefully I won't have anymore interesting run ins. //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 4: Tuxedo Torture //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 4: Tuxedo Torture I walked through the market, searching up and down the rows while picking up the items on Granny's list. Just from the grocery list alone I could tell what she needed these items for. A loaf of bread, sugar, cinnamon, and white grape raisins, these are some of the ingredients she uses in her apple and raisin bread pudding. That dessert is some of finest tasting material your tongue will ever taste. The texture of the bread, the spice of the cinnamon, the crunch of the apples, the sweetness of the grapes, all wrapped into a single pan of heaven. The finest chefs in all of Equestria could never come close to Granny's bread pudding. I had almost finished most of the shopping but I still needed the white grape raisins. I looked around the market, searching everywhere until I laid my eyes on a dry fruit stand. I walked over towards the stand and as I grew closer, I noticed the immense amount of product the salespony had to offer. He had every kind of dried fruit, bananas, apples, strawberries, peaches, cherries, you name it. My eyes scanned around for raisins and I saw in a little basket by the register was a single box of white grape raisins. I walked up to the cashier and pointed at the box of raisins, "I would like those raisins please, how much are they," I asked. The cashier looked at me with a sympathetic look. "Sorry son," he said with gruff voice, "Those raisins have already been reserved by someone else and they're the last box I have." I looked at him surprised, how can a box of raisins be so important that they need to reserved? "I really need those raisins, I'll pay you double of whatever he is paying." "Sorry pal, but SHE told me not to sell it to anypony no matter how much they offer. And I do owe her, she did after all create my daughters dress for her birthday," he quickly glances over my shoulder and waves, "And here she comes now." I turned around and saw a unicorn filly, about my age, with a white coat, a dark purple mane that curled down at the bottom, a twisty purple tail, and a cutie mark in the shape of three bright diamonds. My jaw nearly dropped at the sight of her beauty. This filly was far more beautiful than the words could describe. My legs trembled, my heart raced, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I shook my head and brought myself back into reality. What you doing you idiot!? Stay focused, you need to get those raisins if you want that slice of heaven in your mouth tonight. She walked past me and conjured five bits from her pouch she had wrapped around her body. "Here you go Gruff," she said in an elegant voice, "Thank you for keeping these on hold for me." "Sure thing Rarity, this guy here tried to convince me to sell the raisins to him but I wouldn't falter." The filly, known as Rarity, turned to look at me, "Oh? And what do you need these white grape raisins for?" My thoughts scrambled as I tried to think of what to say. "I-I-I don't need them b-but a friend of mine n-n-needs them for a recipe." "Well I do too need these raisins for a recipe as well, unless your friend needs them more." I figured there would be no way I could reason with this filly. We both need them for the same purpose, whether she is making the same thing is beyond me. I knew I had to something, Granny rarely makes this dish and when she does the world becomes a much brighter place. There's only thing I could do now, "Listen I really need these raisins. I'll be willing to pay you whatever you want for these raisins. I'll do anything!" "Really," she said with a curious look, "Anything?" Her eyes began to scan my body. I regret ever saying those words. The last thing I need today is a filly looking for a fun time. She began to walk around my body, taking mental notes on my appearance, "Yes, you just might work." "Uh, just might work for what," I ask perplexed. She turned to look at the cashier, "Thanks for holding these raisins again for me Gruff," she turned back to me, "You come with me," and she began walking towards the north end of town. Before I followed her I looked back at Gruff, "Do you have any idea what she may want me for?" "Probably," he said, "But I should warn you that most of her subjects usually leave her place in pain." Subjects? Pain? Shit I'm about to be freaking experimented on. I began following her, regretting every step I took. If this is the price of getting heaven shoved in your mouth, I better get an extra large slice tonight. We walked for a few minutes until we came to this big, extremely fancy house that almost looked like a circus tent for the sweet and elite. To describe it will take a life time but for the sake of keeping this chapter within a few thousand words I'm just going to say it looks like a clown went to Canterlot, spending about a month among all the high class ponies. When he came back he was so inspired by the high class culture that he decided to construct a house that would combine the culture of circuses and the high class. He had to move out because the construction was so expensive it wasted his entire bank account. Not too long later, this filly and her family move in only because she enjoyed the fun and fancy design to the house. She walked me inside and the entire place is freaking boutique. If there is one place I hate the most it's freaking boutiques. Way too high prices for pieces of fabric that I can order from Ehay for a fifth of the price. Not to mention a lot of the dresses offered are complete eyesores and most really shouldn't be called clothes in the first place. Rarity points me over to a stand with three big mirrors around it, "Stand over there and wait for a moment." She dashes behind a set of curtains and disappears for a minute. I get on the stand and gaze around the room. The whole place is designed with dark purples, golds and whites. There are a bunch of curtain closed closets, manikins wearing dresses all over the place, and behind me is a curved staircase. Ok honestly the dresses here are not that bad, but I still don't enjoy looking at. Good for a distraction but not something I want to keep looking at. After about five minutes, Rarity dashed out here with a cart full of, ugh, tuxedos. As cool as they may look, they are not comfortable. I had to wear one last year because Big Mac took me to this formal public concert at the local park venue and Granny forced use to wear tuxedos. We were both sweaty, hot, and beyond uncomfortable. Since then we've vowed to never wear anything so uncomfortable again. Well I am about to break that because Rarity began putting on the tuxes and was taking measurements and writing down notes on a clipboard she had with her. Within fifteen minutes she had put five tuxedos on me, out of thirty and yes I did count the total. Each one of those suits made me itch and cringe in each fitting. She makes adjustments on each of the suits by pinning up sleeves or whatever else needed to be adjusted. "So," I said as she was putting the next suit on me, "Is there a reason why you want to shove me into some of the most uncomfortable outfits I have been in." That comment caused a pin to go straight into the right front leg, it felt like a wasp sting. While it seemed like she intended to seem like an accident, it felt on purpose. "Uncomfortable," she said in an offended tone, "I'll have you know my dresses have been some of the most comfortable clothing in all of Equestria." "Oh yeah," I said with a smirk, "What about tuxedos?" "This is my first time," she said as she continued to work, "I needed you because you are have the perfect body form for my suits. Every other model I've tried has either been too short, too tall, too thin or too fat. Your form is perfect for my suits, 5'9" shoulders, 16" neck, 31" waist, and a perfectly sized hind." "Excuse me!?" She began taking the suit off me after her adjustments were done, "I'm trying to expand my market by offering tuxedos to stallions. Like I said, every model I used here in Ponyville didn't work, but you are the perfect stallion for my suits." She walked back to the cart and searched through the other suits. "I'm not a stallion." She stopped and looked back at me with a curious look, "Oh, well if that's what you identify as, I won't judge," she then went back to searching. Hold up, does she think I'm a..? "What, no I mean I'm not a full grown stallion, I'm only 13 years old." She stopped searching again, looked back at me again but with wide eyes of amazement and her jaw dropped. The reaction is natural to me, anytime I tell people I'm younger than they think that look appears. "Amazing, how are you so large in size?" "I work for the Apple family, I buck the trees and haul the cargo. In return they take care of me and let me sleep in their house." She pulled off another suit and walked back, "Interesting, how long have you been working for them?" "About 3 or 4 years. They've been really nice to me and I'm really grateful for their hospitality." She started putting the suit on me as we conversed. "What about your family, don't they miss you?" "I uh...I rather not talk about it." "That's okay," she said as she was making adjustments, "It's not my place to ask." "So what about you?" "What about me?" "What's a young filly like you running a big place like this?" "Oh I'm not young, I'm actually 17." Remember that face of when ponies find out I'm younger, well that's my face right now, "Wait, you're 17?" "Yes I know, I look younger than I actually am. Guess I'm like you but opposite." "So why are you all the way out here by yourself, you seem like you fit better in Canterlot or Manehattan." "I used to live where ever my parents took me and my sister. My father and mother are traveling sales ponies. We would stay in one place for about two weeks average, we stayed in Maretreal the longest, almost month. When I was 16 I got a little tired of traveling all over Equestria, so I convinced my parents to drop me off here in Ponyville since I enjoyed the small town aspect of this place when we visited here once." "What about your education?" "Oh I finished my education when I was 15, I skipped a few grades." "So you've been living here all by yourself for the past year?" "Well I won't be by myself for long, when I turn 18 in a few months my sister will be staying with me." She continued to prim and adjust the suit on me, "That should do it, come now lets get you into the next suit." She removed the clothes from my body and and went back to cart to grab another suit, "How much longer until you're done?" "About 24 more suits," I let a pretty loud groan, "don't worry, it won't take long." Yeah that's a big lie, after going through 26 suits 3 hours of my life were wasted. By the time it was all over, my body had so many cuts from pins that I felt like a freaking connect the dots picture. The cashier wasn't kidding when he said that all of her "subjects" walked out of her shop in pain. But I guess it was all worth it since she held up her end of the bargain and gave me the much desired white grape raisins. We shook hooves and wished each other a good evening since the sun was just dipping down. I made my way home as quickly as possible before it became too dark. I just wanted to get home and go straight to bed at this point. The thought of having that bread pudding no longer mattered to me. When I got to the farm, I went inside and Applejack was sitting there on the couch waiting for me. The sun was half way down when arrived, so of course I was late. She looked straight at me, didn't say hi or anything just "Where were you, it shouldn't have taken you that long to get a few groceries." I looked at her and said, "Hello to you two." "Where were you Sharpedge?" I just walked over and handed her the bag of groceries, "Let's just say that to get these raisins was not worth 3 hours of being stuffed into 30 different tuxedos." She gave me a weird look, "What are talking," than she realized what I meant, "Oh, Rarity?" "Yeah," I turned and made my way to the stairs, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to cover myself in about a hundred band aids and I'm heading straight to bed. I have had about enough crazy stuff happen to me today." I made my up the stairs and did exactly as I said. I laid in bed and waited to fall asleep. Hopefully tomorrow can be a little bit normal than today was. Between getting thrown into a cabbage cart, getting cut with a hundred different pins, meeting the ultimate super ego, and getting dressed by the mare version of Ralph Lauren, I just hope I can have a peaceful and restful night. I opened my eyes and found myself in the middle of a wasteland. I look around and there is nothing but sand, wind and dark clouds. I walk through the land to see if I can find something or someone out here. The wind is harsh, each grain of sand that hits me is like getting blasted with a hundred knives. I can barely see out here, I squint my eyes to shield them from the sand but it does nothing to aid my vision. I continue to walk until I felt the wind turn cold. Suddenly a ghostly figure appears in the distance. "Hello," I shout to it, "Do you know where I am?" The figure doesn't respond. I make my way towards the figure but then a voice appears in the wind. "Sharpedge, help me," it whispers. "Who's there," I shout back hoping for an answer. No response. I ignore it and continue my way to the figure, actually figures now. A second figure is now standing next to the original. I ignore the second and keep making my way to the first figure. The voice comes out again, "Help me Sharpedge," it whispers again but clearer this time. The voice sounds familiar but I can't put my hoof on it. I ignore it and continue walking towards the now three figures? I stop, now this had me concerned. Where are these other figures coming from? I begin to think that these people might be trouble so I turn around with intention of walking away from them. But those three figures appeared right in front of me, scaring the living daylight out of me. I suddenly recognize each one them, all three had the spitting image of my sister. But each one had a symptom of the Grim Reaper disease. The one on the left is whiter than a ghost, the middle has blood red eyes and the right one has blood spilling from her mouth. All three looked up at me and started saying "Help me Sharpedge" in this high pitch, deafening voice. I cover my ears and shouted at them to get away but they kept on coming at me. Each scream felt like I was getting a sword shoved in my ears. I wanted it stop but no matter how much I beg it wouldn't stop. Finally, I woke up. My breath was heavy and I'm covered in sweat. I take few breaths to calm myself. What did I do to deserve this kind of torment? How much longer until I can finally be free of this curse?