Flutter May Shy
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It was a Sunday...
Screw it; I’ll just throw it out there. I hate Sundays. Goddamn boredom around every nook, every cranny, and even when I go outside, nobody’s ever here. I don’t know why I don’t just sleep in all day.
Well, I do, but I choose not to talk, or even write about it.
Anyway, I personally dislike Sundays. Makes me wonder if everypony else does. And hell, I already know the answer.
I mean, why else would there be no one around here on this totally not self-explaining lone island?
I swear, I’m going crazy here. If I was on my own, I would totally do what I said before, and just go to bed for the rest of the day. Just take a nap.
But I can’t, cuz I’m not alone. My father is here with me, and we were both planning on getting the hell off this rock. Today.
My history here is one that is quite simple: I’ve lived here, with my parents for about thirteen years; since my birth, to be exact.
Mom and Dad were banished to this deserted island for reasons they have yet to tell me, and this place wasn’t always deserted, no. There were other ponies here, just like me, and my parents.
Normal ones, just like us...
Normal mares and stallions you would read about in the Equestrian Inquirer; the nationwide pursuits to pretty much make celebrities’ lives utterly miserable.
And that’s the funny thing right there. All those celebrities and the like? They all fled here, to this very island, all to escape their ‘adoring crowd’.
So why would they turn right around and leave the only privacy they would ever have?
That brings me to question myself yet again. My mother vanished about five weeks ago, just, out of nowhere. I swore I heard the sound of a motorboat starting up that night.
Could’ve been her. Fuck it, I don’t really care why or how; it would just be nice to have her company back.
Me and my father. We’re supposed to escape this horrible place by means of watercraft; a ship. It wasn’t a big one, but it wasn't too small either. I guess he’s still sleeping; either that or he’s still packing his things.
My dad: he has this theory about this island is ‘uncharted’. And keep in mind; he’s a little crazy...
Apparently, in a far off land called Equestria, demons live. They climb from the depths of the Earth, dragging all things living down to hell as they themselves surface. They throw confusion, chaos and evil at the world, and whoever managed to survive the devil’s upbringing.
That’s right. My father believes in these sorts of things.
A sun goddess, as well as a goddess of the moon, a beast that goes by the name of Cerberus, some serpent-like thing with the head of a goat and a body comprised of all sorts of other animals...
Like I said, he’s just a little bit crazy, but I still love him.
And what’s worse than me loving a crazy person? I think I’m actually starting to believe his crazy stories.
I’m the type who likes to lounge around; take it easy. I try to live my life as easily as possible, but the stories kinda start to make sense as the days (that seem like weeks) go by.
I can hear, every once in a while, the booming, prolonging echo of thunder throughout the dark clouds that just recently started to pursue an eastward sky.
Now, Equestria is a supposed region far off in that same direction from wherever my father and I are at this very moment. It would be such a shame if his theory is true, because I remember reading about the place when I was eight years old.
Actually, my mother read the book for me. “The Land of Equestria.
“The clouds don’t move on their own, and Derpy saw that she was able skip across them with no trouble at all.” were the main, clustered keywords that really got me to listen. I mean, jumping on clouds seemed like a really fun idea, and I could do it since I’m a Pegasus. But I wouldn’t want to get electrocuted by an angry grey cloud anyway.
That whole place is supposed to be a heaven on Earth; the same place where all those dark clouds are headed. Now, I’m not one who believes in superstition, but it’s kinda hard not to think such thoughts when everything seems to be pointing at disaster.
My mom was a really sweet mare. I still can’t wrack my mind of any kind of answer as to why she just...left. At least, assuming that I wasn’t dreaming that night, she could have left on her own.
The entire collection of ‘normal’ ponies have been absent for going on five weeks; thirty-five whole days. I never knew any of them, as I was, and still am, a nobody compared to them, but I can’t help but feel like my father’s company isn’t enough. And he’s quite the blabbermouth.
I’m not even going to begin to think that my mom left disappeared along with them, although it is possible, just as coincidence, nothing more.
Now, I feel that I’ve written more than enough for this entry. I swear, I hate having amnesia. The only reason I can remember some things is because I have countless memoirs that almost completely chronicle the past eight years of my life.
All the time subtracted from that is a mystery to me.
I can’t remember what happened to me back then that caused me to lose my memory, but my past probably isn’t that important. With me, still being a stupid kid now, I was most likely the same way then.
And I guess I got sidetracked again, didn’t I?
It’s time for me to put this pen down and tear all these papers off my walls.
My name is Flutter May Shy.
And this...
This is my new story. My new life.
