Days are grey, lifeless...
My days are long and slow… timeless. Then again, I don't know how much time has passed since my birth... If I was even born.
I know very little, I know not by what name I am called nor do I know what I am. I am simply there, watching life pass by in an endless circle of birth and death.
Who am I?
I am the shadow that lurks within the Everfree forest. A tall creature with a white coat, a black tail and no mane. A faceless shell of what has taken form as a pony, but in no other ways than shape do I share anything with the ponies of this world.
How many lifetimes have I spent just wandering around in this forest that has become so familiar to me? Two? Three? Or more?
I don't have any memories of me being other than what I am. Well, that is not true. I do have something, not memories per say, but, impressions, feelings of nostalgia from a past I no longer recall. It is like taunting echoes in my mind, always out of reach.
Most of my days are lonely, spent watching the animals, or the birds in the sky. The animals cannot see me, but I think they sense me, because whenever I get near, they flee.
My best days, the days I feel less alone, feel warm and just the hint of happiness, is when I watch the town known as Ponyville. I like watching the ponies trot around, like watching them do their daily routines, chatting, and playing. I especially enjoy watching them sing.
I wish I could sing with them, but I have no mouth, no voice to share with the world. Like the animals, the ponies don't seem to see me, but unlike the animals, they hardly sense me, not like I can sense them.
As mentioned, my shape appears to be that of a pony, but I am much taller than them, my legs carry me well above them. And so, I simply stand there, watching them go by as they live their lives. It has been my greatest source of joy in my grey and lifeless world, but also, my greatest source of grief.
It happened, well, I am not sure how long ago, but long enough that I know most of these ponies were not even born yet. Back then, I hardly ever left the forest, but, there was this school house. I often watched the foals play all kinds of games.
There was this filly, a big red bow in her mane, always smiling and laughing. She saw me. She really saw me. Unlike the animals, unlike the ponies, unlike any creature I had seen, she really saw me, and still, she did not run away.
She smiled, smiled at me, at me, of all ponies. Waved at me every time she saw me, every time she walked to school, every time she was playing beside the school, and every time she went home.
Though we never talked, it was the only time I felt like I had a friend.
One day however, she did not show up for school. Not that day, or any other. I could tell something was wrong, ponies, who I assume were family and friends called her name. Cotton Belle... She was gone, vanished, and though they suspected she was in my forest, they did not dare venture too far in to look for her.
But me? I lived here, this was my domain. So I looked...and looked...and looked.
I'm not sure how long, or how I did it, but I found her, Cotton Belle, my Cotton Belle.
She was laying in a clearing, leaves had been placed over her to hide her. Her mane was wild, her big red bow ruined, her coat dirty. She was dead and yet, it looked like she was just sleeping.
It was the first time I felt pain, grief. My heart was broken, and if I had eyes, I would have been crying. I wanted to scream, to cry out to whoever had done her harm, to hurt them.
As I held her in my hooves, the shadows grew stronger around me, the air grew colder, the trees splintered around me as the shadows became powerful tendrils, whipping and ripping everything around me out of pure rage.
My little Cotton Belle, my friend...
I could not return her to her family, I did not know enough, so instead, I laid her carefully at the edge of the forest. Tried to keep her looking as peaceful as possible. Those who found her were overcome by grief, and soon enough the whole town was.
I followed my Cotton Belle, kept watching over her, right until the moment they laid her to rest in the ground below. It was the last time I saw her, and I think I lingered on there for some time.
Then, by some unknown force, maybe by Cotton Belle's will, or maybe some higher power drove me, but I had a feeling, a strong fire burning inside me, something that led me to her killer.
A farm worker. A simple farm worker. He looked like a normal earth pony to everypony else, but to me, I could see, or sense something about him. I saw his dark corrupted soul, his rotting heart, and there was nothing redeemable about him, no guilt about what he had done.
He needed to be punished, he needed to suffer. But what could I do? I had never been able to interact with the ponies around me before. I could not speak, not touch, it was like I was in one reality, and they were in another.
Again, maybe by some unknown force, or maybe even by pure will, I made him see me.
He screamed, a terror filled scream that quickly attracted other ponies to him, but they could not see me, and no longer could he. It was then that I knew I could reach him, I just had to break down whatever separated us...
Over the next seven days I forced him to see me, made myself known. Each time I did I felt myself come closer, felt myself grow in strength.
He was terrified, maybe even going mad. He drew me over and over again. Whispered in the corner of his home, which he tried to turn into a fort, but alas, I found my way in. I always did...
Maybe it was fate that drove him to the graveyard on the seventh day, poetic justice.
But one night, we both knew I would soon be able to reach him, and no amount of begging would spare him from the fate that awaited him. He rushed to the graveyard, found her grave, Cotton Belle's grave.
He threw himself on the ground, cried, screamed, begged her to spare him from the monster that haunted his mind. Me. Of course, he would not know that sweet Cotton Belle was not behind this, she was not the monster, no, I was.
I stood there, watching him in disgust. How dared he beg the filly he murdered for mercy? Did he deserve any? No! Did he feel remorse? No, only when he knew his life was in danger did he regret, and at that point it was too late...
Yes, at that point, we both knew it was far too late for him.
He knew I was there, watching him, and we both knew what was going to happen. He was in my world now, he was no longer part of the world that held beauty and life. No, he was in my grey and sad world, and it was then he could fully see me, truly sense me.
He was frozen in place, looking at me with horrified eyes, fearing for his life. We stood there, looking at one another for maybe half a minute as my tendrils grew and grew, moving around his body like snakes.
I could feel his life, see what he had seen, hear what he had heard.
Of course, there was only one memory I cared about, and what I saw, what I heard. It will forever cause me pain, forever fuel the hatred that was burning inside me, and which caused my tendrils to tighten around him.
There was nothing more to do, the world would be rid of him, rid of an evil that should have never walked in the same reality as Cotton Belle.
The last thing the world would ever hear from him was the screams of terror coming from deep within the Everfree.
Now, now I am all alone again.
I had no Cotton Belle to cheer me up, and no purpose anymore.
And so I kept wandering in my forest, at times watching over the foals of Ponyville, never allowing them harm. For years I watched, protected.
Maybe that is my purpose in whatever life you could call this. Over the years others have seen me, some have drawn me, others see me lurking in the background in a photo. Although I have fallen into the scary myths among the foals, I feel happiness just knowing they are safe.
So, here I stand, at the edge of the woods, watching the foals playing beside the school house. Guarding them, making sure they are safe. I know them all by name now, I know a lot of ponies by name. I have watched them all grow up, watched them all become who they are.
So even if they cannot see me, or even believe in me. I feel a part of them now...
A small ball rolls over and stops a few meters from me. I watch as a little filly runs over to get it, coming over, she stops, about to take it when she suddenly stops, and looks at me.
I look back at her. She does not scream, nor does she run away, we simply look at one another. It's not until another filly calls her that she turns away. "Sweetie Belle, what are you doing?! You coming or what?!"
The filly looks to her orange friend and yells back. "C-coming!" Then, she looks back at me for what is maybe less than a second, smiles, and waves before she runs back to her friends with her ball.
I stand there, watching, and wave back...
Author's Note
Maybe it's cheesy, or something.
But I was a bit down, and decided to simply write something. This was what I was int he mood for, I hope you enjoyed this little short story. 
