Gilda the Griffin

~Gilda the Griffin~
Chapter One - A Photo Finished

~Ponyville~

I close the door behind me, slowly looking around my room, still messy. It's how I liked it, felt just like... home. I went over to the bed and took out the photo frame; the one I kept hidden for so long, from so many. It was the only picture I had of my family. I glanced at it, then went over to my desk without taking my eyes off the picture, slowly sitting down on a small cushion in front of my desk. I traced the outlines of the photo, remembering each and everyone in it's gold leafed frame.

I had to thank Griffin, one of these days. He gave me so much, more than I could ever hope to give back to him. He saved me, we became friends... well... more than friends... he was one of the only few people that really... understood how I felt. With him, he had given me a chance to find out about my father. At first, I felt dead when I found out about... no, It's best not to think about it anymore. I still had to thank him, at least once, for everything. I wanted to do something special for him.

I placed the picture frame on my desk, laying my beak in my crossed arms on the desk, taking a long look at the picture, stretching out a talon to stroke the embroidery of the frame. I slid one talon over my mother's face. She had a beautiful smile, one that no matter what mood you were in, when you saw her smile, you couldn't help but smile with her. I missed that smile...

'Dammit... Why am I always sentimental about this kind of crap...' I thought to myself as I wiped away a stray tear from my eye. Looking at the picture again, I thought about how I would never see that face again. The face, the smile, the loving gaze. When I got hurt, when I was sad...

... when I was escaping the warren that had imprisoned me for over a year...

The door suddenly opened, I immediately clutched the frame to my chest. I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Gilda, you coming?" Griffin asked. He scared me half to death. I craned my neck over my shoulder.

"In a minute..." Dammit, why doesn't he ever knock first, "... just cleaning some stuff up." I smile, hoping that he bought it. He leaned to the left, trying to look at the picture.

'No, Not yet, I can't let him see it.'

"Hey..." Oh no, he saw it, "What's that?" I clutched it closer and closer to my chest. I had to think of something fast.

"It's nothing... just a little... memento." I turn around, hiding the picture behind my back and giving a nervous smile.

"Oh... alright..." He said warily, cocking his head to the side, "Hey... you feeling okay?" I realized I was blushing. Slowly I reached behind me and slid open the drawer on my desk.

"Nah, I'm good." I say, waving a claw to him. I gulped, hoping he bought it...

"Alright," His look slowly turned back to normal, "Well, I'm heading out. I gotta do a bit of shopping anyways. Meet you at the train station?" He turned around, keeping his eyes on me.

"Take your time..." I slip the picture into my desk and lean on it to slide it shut. "I'll be a while."

"Alright," He turns his head around to leave, then peeks back, "Remember, 4 'o clock."

"Pssh, like I could forget," I scoff and roll my eyes. He smiles and shuts the door behind him. I breathe out, realizing that I was holding my breath. After hearing the outer door close, I turn back around and pull open the drawer again.

'Maybe I should tell him about the picture...' I look at it again, 'No way, then everyone else would think I'm a clingy dweeb like the other... ponies...' Trixie, there's a name I won't soon forget. I remember when Griffin first asked me whether we should have busted her out of jail in the first place.

'I guess I am a bit of a dweeb, if I fell for HIM...' I look at a newspaper clipping of our concert in Canterlot, 'Him and all the weird, alien stuff that he does...' I quickly erased the thought from my mind.

'He's not THAT big of a dweeb, just a tolerable amount, borderline. Yeah, nothing's wrong with that. He comes from a place with bitching music like that, a look that says he could take on the world. That completely offsets the part of him that is a dweeb...' I start to smile as I look at a poster of our short lived band, made by the paparazzi, no less. 'Completely, it's like that part of him's not even there.'

'He probably knows that I was lying to him back there, that something really was wrong with me... and I was just too afraid to say it.' I take the picture back out, slowly my memories of when I was young seep back to me, reminding me of what happened several years ago that tore my family apart...