Life and Death

I slowly came to my senses, greeted by a dim light bouncing off of grimy concrete walls. A dull pain crept through my body, aggravated by the barren concrete bed I found myself lying on.

Where am I? I slowly adjusted my weight onto my hooves and began to observe the situation. Above me hung a single dim light, hung off the low ceiling by a short, rusted chain. The dim, pale light bounced off the concrete walls and gave the room the appearance of being a tomb.

I slowly cantered around the tiny room, which was just about large enough for me to sprawl out on the floor with not much space leftover. I observed the cell carefully, with the hope of finding something that struck me. Nope, just iron and concrete. The only thing I saw of any note was an iron portcullis which bridged my box to the rest of the complex. I pressed my snout against the cold metal and tried to get a glimpse of what lied around me, but alas, the lighting was too dim and the corridors too winding for me see anything of note. I was truly alone.

Perhaps I should yell for help. Maybe somepony will help me. I backed away slowly from the gate.

No… I am clearly a prisoner. Who in their right mind would help a… prisoner. I tried to wrack my brains for some clue as to why I was here, but I couldn’t remember anything. Not the slightest detail came to mind on how I found myself in this gloomy predicament. The only thing that I could think of was a menagerie of strange facts and tidbits that had no personal relevance.

All ponies have a cutie mark though… maybe that will give me some insight into my memories. I glanced back at my dark brown flank, and my heart sank. A quill on a skull? That is as cryptic as this situation… I let out a deep sigh.

How is it that I can remember what a cutie mark is but have no idea who I am? Was I that unimportant? Was I just another pony cantering around Equestria with but a semblance of a purpose? I hung my head and slowly pulled myself to my bed and let myself fall against the concrete with a dull thud.

Did I have a love back where I was from? A family perhaps? I pondered carefully, but the emptiness in my heart told me otherwise. No… I had nothing, I was a loner. Perhaps I’ve never had anything but myself. My heart continued to sink and I felt a chill descend upon my body. I slowly dropped my head, shifting my body so that it would land on my crimson mane to protect my face from the dampness of the cold stone.

How does anypony survive without love? If I remember one thing, it is that everypony is striving to find somepony to include in their life. Strong pangs of loneliness assaulted my senses and I pulled my body tighter. This sense of emptiness and loneliness is so strong, certainly I have faced this emotion for a long time if it is this oppressive. I began to feel tears well up in my eyes as I pulled even tighter upon myself. No, I cannot cry… I mustn’t. If I have survived all these years with myself, certainly I can make it a bit longer.

A harsh clanging interrupted my depressed reverie, and I heard a drawling voice speak with a hint of snideness. “You finally have come to your senses, eh? Well, I was ordered to bring you some food.” I loosened my body and cocked my head just in time to see a gray stallion slap a tray of food down, causing a bit of the mush to spill onto the dusty floor.

“Where am I? Better yet, who am I?” I blurted out. The stallion simply rolled his eyes and gave a quick snort before walking away. So I really am no one…

I again lifted myself out of the cold bed and sniffed the tray, not out of hunger, but out of curiosity. It reeked of a mixture of sludge of vomit, and turned any sense of an appetite that I may have had away. I again scanned my new abode, desperate for a window to materialize out of thin air, or anything for that matter.

Is this what it is like to be stuck in purgatory? Neither here nor there, just waiting for when they will call your name and release you. Is this living? Or even at that, is this death? Is it possible for one to be both dead and alive at the same time? Are they really mutually exclusive? The thoughts raged through my mind incessantly, until in a moment of calmness hit me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I certainly was a bit of a thinker, where ever I was before,” I muttered with the tiniest fraction of a smile on my face. But I can see the allure of thinking. How can one be focused on sadness when one can focus on the peculiarities of life? Maybe that’s how I survived alone. I lived with my thoughts, and maybe these thoughts are company enough.

I began to get lost in thought again, but I was suddenly struck by the creeping pain that was slowly getting worse. The dull pain was beginning to turn into an assault upon my body that, if I kept pacing around, would surely becoming unbearable within no time. I dragged myself to the cold bed once more and laid myself down, this time closing my eyes and clearing my thoughts. The thought that perhaps tomorrow, I would have a better clarity of self eased my soul and put me to sleep.