Just Smile

Prologue

“Mom?” the young colt called, standing alone in the pouring rain. “Dad? Where'd you go?”
He took a few steps forward, hooves splashing in the mud. His ruddy auburn mane was plastered to his head and neck, his tan coat soaked through. He shivered and whimpered as the wind lashed out. His hooves were numb, his body tingling. “M-Mom?” he tried again, voice growing weaker.

The colt stumbled, unable to keep his balance in the growing strength of the storm. Trees bent, their branches twisting and reaching like long, gnarled claws. The world was masked behind a thick sheet of warped glass, refractng colours and shapes. Unknown figures loomed up around the colt like monsters, watching him cower. The small pony coughed, finding it more difficult to get air into his lungs. The rain poured harder, [ifaster, and he felt like he could swim through it. Like maybe if he tried, he could float to the top, find his mother and father and all would be well. Everything would be normal again.

He started running then. Running from the monsters, the unknown, the terrifying shapes that threatened to devour him in the night. Ran to get away, to find shelter, to see if he really could swim through the storm. Panic and fear washed over him. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Lightning flashed overhead, splitting the sky in two. Thunder roared, rattling the air, shaking the earth below. The colt ran harder, at full gallop, weaving around trees and ducking under branches. He couldn't stop. He had to keep going. Had to get away.

The world was pulsing around him, clattering, roaring, whirling. He didn't know where he was, where he was going. He just kept running. Faster and faster and faster and—

He stopped. Skidding on the sodden ground, losing his balance and smashing aganst a fallen tree. He coughed up mud and water, struggling to stand up. He could see her—just barely. Her thin frame illuminated by the weak stream of moonlight still leaking through the clouds.

His mother.

Her fur was torn, her body battered and bruised. A foamy puddle of pink stained the earth benieth her. Her mane was ragged and her eyes, once a calming deep blue, were now half-open, glazed over and staring at nothing. “Mom?” asked the colt, his voice sounding feeble. “Mom, a-are you okay?” He nudged her with his muzzle, trying to prod her awake but to no prevail. “Mom!” he called, jumping up and driving his front hooves into her side. She didn't move. He tried again—and again—and again, crying now, screaming for her to please, please wake up! Until finally, he collapsed. Laying on her body, burying his nose into her drenched mane. He cried. Softly at first then louder and louder until his entire body shook with every breath.

When his sobbing finally subsided into a soft whimper, the colt felt a hoof on his shoulder. He looked up, tears indistinguishable among the raindrops already staining his face. It was his brother, looking down at him through reddened eyes. He looked like he'd been crying too but it was hard to tell.

Suddenly, his brother's hoof felt heavier, pressing down on his haunch, pinning the colt to his mother. “It's your fault,” the older pony snapped. “It's always been you.”

He struggled under his brother's weight, gasping for air, coughing, rainwater entering his lungs. It stung in his throat and made his chest ache. He tried to yell, to scream, to cry, but no sound came out. He gargled and choked in the muddy water, kicking and bucking, trying to break free. He felt another hoof on the back of his head as his face was pressed into his mother's fur. He struggled but his brother was too strong, too big. There was nothing he could do.

Helpless, the colt gave in. He stopped struggling and laid still, his breathing ragged and painful. He closed his eyes tight. “I'm s-sorry,” he wheezed, unsure if he could even be heard. His voice was rough. It hurt to speak. “I'm so sorry.”

His brother let go.