When It's Time

by Green_Hooves

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Romance
Length: 1022

I need your voice, as a key to unlock all the love that's trapped in me.

This is a fic based off of the song "When It's Time" by Green Day.

After so many months, being happy as can be and having the time of your life with your mare friend, Jazzy, it all comes tumbling down on top of you for unknown reasons.

Day after day, you spend your time at the local bar, sitting in the smoky air polluted with the shouts of angry drunks, hoping that some day you will realize where you went wrong.

Rated teen for alcohol and drugs.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-26 21:51:07 UTC

All I want is for you to know....

Walking down the street, taking in the spooky decorations that ponies have put up celebrating your favorite holiday, nightmare night, you hear some wings flapping energetically behind you.  Deciding that this flapping was meant for you, you stop in your tracks, and turn around in a manner that wasn't very urgent.  You had no where in particular that you needed to be at this moment, after all.  Your vision filled with brown and white, as an energetic Pegasus collides with your face, causing you both to tumble to the cold cobblestone in a heap of feathers and fur.

Ever since you moved to jingle town, you have been seeing more and more of her, and that certainly wasn't bothering you in the least.  Her frizzy brown mane and the off white color of her cote was a sight you welcomed every day with open arms.  The two of you have grown closer over the past few weeks, to the point where you would consider her a sister to you.

The feelings you two shared for each other where not easily explained beyond that.

As you two were walking down the street, idly chatting about this and that, she seemed to be bothered by something.  You didn't notice at first, but slowly, you saw the nervous glances she was throwing your way, she would even occasionally start talking to herself.

"You got anything to tell me Jazz?   You seem a little upset about something."

"Well, I wanted to ask you something, actually..." she looked visibly shaken as she struggled to let the words escape her mouth.  "Do you want to go... to a nightmare night party tomorrow?"  Quickly regaining her composure, she sighed with a sigh of relief, as if she had just dodged a bullet.  Her pause in words told you that this was not the original question intended, regardless, you couldn't turn down this invitation, and responded with a simple "Yes."

...

The day of the party has arrived.

The location was only a five minute walk from your house.  Dressed up as a drunk pony, you received very odd looks and glares from most of the ponies that crossed your path.  Maybe it was the traffic cone on your head?

You enter the room with great caution, knowing that you are not very good at parties, or socializing.  Scanning the room, you don't recognize any faces, so you just decide to grab a soda and sit on the couch.  The music was heavy, and full of bass that seemed to make your bones vibrate.  Judging by the speed of the beats, it sounded like your stereotypical rap song.  The kind that you hate.  "Where the hell is Jazzy?" you think to yourself.

Minutes pass

then hours

Time passes so much in fact, that you fall asleep waiting for her to arrive.

...

You wake up on the couch, there is a warmth on your shoulder that wasn't there when you fell asleep.  Curious as to what it is, you check your surrounding.  Drunk ponies everywhere.

Assuming that one of them had latched on to you in your sleep you shake them awake, only to find out that it was Jazzy, clinging to you.

"Why didn't you show up?" you ask annoyed.

"You were at the wrong party..." she says half yawning and talking at the same time.  She was obviously still very tired from last night.

Deciding to take advantage of her delirious state, you choose to ask her about her question a few days ago...

"I asked you *YAWN* , If you would like to go out with me some time."

"Eh, it couldn't hurt to try..."

Words get trapped in my mind

WHEN IT'S TIME

...

"Hey Tender, gimmie another soda, will ya?"  you beg of Tender Heart, your friend and bar tender.  Knowing full and well that it wasn't soda he was serving you, he reluctantly passes you another shot of "soda".   Throughout your life, you have vowed to never consume alcohol, as you have seen what it can do to some ponies.  You much rather prefer to call it "soda".  It is much more innocent that way.  Adjusting your rear, you get comfortable in the worn and beaten bar stool, preparing to indulge in your dirty habit once again.

*GULP*

"One..."

*GULP*

"Two.."

*GULP*

"Threee..."

*GULP*

"Fer"

*SPLASH..*

"Fiv..."

*THUNK*

"Oush..."

Needless to say, you can't hold your liquor very well.

...

You wake up on the filthy floor of the old bar, clutching on to a clear bottle of soda like it would save your life.  Tender is sitting there, cleaning the dingy mugs behind the counter.  "What time is it?"  you ask, the words struggling to escape the confines of your brain, eventually making the daring escape past your drooling lips and into the air of the bar that smelled of beer and sadness.  "About time for you to be getting home buddy, I think you have overstayed you due." explains Tender.  "It's not that I don't enjoy your company or anything, but you were here all night, mumbling in your sleep about some jazz music or something.  You need some rest.  Without alcohol."

You cringe as you realize what you were talking about in you drunken slumber.  Even at the place where memories come to die, that one still persists to haunt you.

"Yeah, well thanks for letting me sleep on the cold floor.  At least it wasn't covered in beer this time."  You jokingly remark to your friend. Well at least I'm sober enough to talk straight.

Leaving this horrid place was the best part of your day.

...

At home, you sit on the battered couch, watching the Macy's Day Parade on your old television, appreciating the powers of unicorn magic.  What would you do without it?  Not be watching television, that's what.

You take a sip from your "Big Ass Coffee Mug of Fuck You", appreciating the off white color

You have taken this same routine for the past few months.  Bar, T.V., Coffee, Bar, repeat.  A bit redundant.

Taking a break from the abnormally redundant thing that is your life, you decide to use your almost pristine bed for once, and just skipping the bar entirely.  Your dreams take you away to a time when you where happy.