The life and times of Lafayette Ryder

Heat, blistering, searing heat is all that I can feel. Why’s it so damn hot? I look around but only see darkness; the warmth begins to fade as I realize why it’s so dark. I open my eyes and for a moment I think I’m still in my Humvee at the back of a convoy tearing down a dirt road somewhere in Iraq. Wind and dust whip at my face and nothing looks like home, or anywhere else I’ve been for that matter. But wait a second… this isn’t some back road in the middle east, this is…

“Shit.”

My brain hits overdrive as things begin to click; obviously I’m not in Iraq, that heat could only have been fire, and this wind isn’t from driving sixty miles an hour. No, it’s from free falling at terminal velocity. Now I’m not very good with math but I can tell that I’m no longer accelerating and I know what that means. I can also tell that I have just a few seconds before I hit the ground. I know I’m falling; I know the landing will not end well, what I don’t know is where I am or just how the hell I got here.

Thanks to my goggles I retain some of my vision as I plummet, I can see a small village beneath me, I can see the clouds pass me, I can hear the screams above me… wait what?

I had been falling belly down but now I flip to try and see what made the noise, the only things above me are massive clumps of oddly shaped clouds. No way was anyone up there. I must have mistaken the howling of the wind for a shriek. I ignore the shrill shouts of the wind and spin back holding my limbs out wide trying desperately to slow my descent. I can clearly see buildings with foreign architecture and people with bright, gaudy clothing now. I feel bad for whoever will have to clean up the mess after I land.

More shouts meet my ears, the wind is too loud to allow me to understand them but apparently someone on the ground has seen me. I can see people stop and look up towards me, I can see them point and hear muffled voices. Suddenly a voice calls out that I can hear clearly.

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

I flip once more to see who would say such a stupid thing. What I saw confused me. A young woman outfitted in a metal breastplate, cargo pants, and combat boots is following my descent closely, close enough for me to see the bag of chocolates stuffed under her armor and the golden tips of her outstretched it is at this moment that one of two possible explanations occur to me: A. being that I’m about to die and a punker angel is here to see me off, or B. that I’m hallucinating and that this is all just a very lucid and very bad trip. Honestly I’m hoping for option B. She’s still speaking, not that I’m listening, and I stare at her for a moment.

“That last step was a doozy wasn’t it?” she calls out to me, “See ya later!” before I can object or even comment her wings spread out to their full span and the air caught in her feathers whisks her away.

“Well, option B’s got a strong case here…” I muse aloud.

I waste a precious moment looking back at where the girl went before logic reminds me that angels rarely talk to me and I return to my previous position. The ground is getting closer and I can see the people better, but they don’t look right. They look like…no that would be insane…

The thought is ripped from my mind as I see how near to the ground I am. I say a quick prayer to any deities within earshot and let loose a mighty scream, maybe this will be like a belly flop and hurt worse if I have a chest full of air. Or maybe this will be like a free fall to my death from a thousand feet and hurt no matter what I do. Either way there’s no stopping now, I cry out to god, to any god, just as I collide with a dirt road.

That mention of how to do a belly flop without hurting yourself, I know that little trick from experience. I remember jumping off a diving board and hitting the water stomach first, I recall the sudden pain as the air was forced out of my lungs, and I most certainly retain the fear of almost drowning. Fortunately my friends, the same ones to dared me to pull the stunt, had dove in and saved me.

My friends aren’t here to save me now. I don’t think they could save me even if they were.

The pain of that failed belly flop returns to me a thousand fold or so as I land. I thought I would bounce, I once saw a man jump from his apartment building and bounce five feet after the initial impact, but I just lie there in pain. I feel as though every bone in my body has been shattered and every organ liquefied. I had expected to connect with the earth and black out immediately before the real pain could hit. But of course that isn’t what happens; nothing ever goes the easy way for me.

I gasp for breath to no avail, my vision is reddish, partly from the impact and partly because I lie in a pool of my own blood. I try to swallow and find where the blood originated from, I must have bitten my tongue when I fell, speaking of which I can see part of it in the puddle of blood. My vision blurs and starts to fade; I can’t breathe and I’m probably bleeding badly. At least I won’t die in some Godforsaken desert. I guess a minute has passed since I landed, I can see the crowd around me but I can’t hear them. All I can hear is ringing, and not that of a tolling church bell but more like that of an annoying cell phone.

I finally force a gasp of air in, wincing as I do. I pick my head up to see those around me, grimacing as I do. My confusion returns as I prop my head on an arm. With my other arm I run my hand over my side and chest, strange, no apparent breaks but pain everywhere. Just poking my gut is enough to force me back down and into the fetal position.

I’m still alive but I don’t think that will last very long.

With that last thought I close my eyes and drift away.

So, there’s the bright light I’ve heard so much about. Wait, two of them? Oh hell, do I have to pick one? I begin to panic until the sound of rubber wheels and the smell of antiseptics greet me. I’m not dead; I’m just in a hospital.

Everything makes sense now, well more sense at least, I was in the convoy when we were ambushed, I got hurt, I was hallucinating, per option B, and now I’m at the hospital on base. Soon enough a doctor will prescribe me some nice painkillers and everything will be back to normal. Maybe I’ll even get to go home, see my family and…

A jolt of pain meets my torso without warning and I groan as muscles spasm and contract suddenly. After a few deep breaths to ease the agony I open my eyes, expecting a nurse or a doctor to be there and explain what happened. Instead I see bags of liquids suspended in air with tubes snaking down into either arm, my legs in transparent tubes of blue goo, and my chest bandaged tightly. I take another glance, this time around the room rather than just at myself, and I see balloons on a dresser, all my gear including my rifle and sidearm on a desk, and someone sitting, no lying, across from me with their nose buried in a thick book.

I grunt slightly, coughing under my breath as I ease myself into a sitting position. It must have been louder than I thought as the person reading looks up. As far as I can tell this is the second angel I’ve seen today, and by far the fairer of the two. Her hair is long, swirled, and a deep shade of purple, almost black, with streaks of lighter tones every few strands. Her skin is dark violet, and her smile… her smile is radiant.

The ringing in my ears persists but I can hear her voice, soft and sweet, as she introduces herself.

“Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle.”

My head falls back swiftly unto my pillow and I drift back to sleep. Surely the doctor has taken the liberty of already doping me up on painkillers.

I’m not sure what he used or how much, but I think it’s safe to say that it worked.