The Collection

Sometimes I am afraid I will forget myself. That one day I will wake up and forget who I am, what I want, what my name is. Even now it slowly slips my mind. I have to remind myself I am Octavia. I don’t believe myself half the time, because maybe I have that name. Maybe I already forgot my real name. Maybe it was Daisy, or Heaven, or maybe even Rose. Maybe I was completely different and I just forgot. I don’t know, I wish I could remember. I’m afraid that what I know is a farce, it’s all fake. None of its real. I am a blip of life in the gap of the beginning and the end. Everything is real, and nothing means anything. All I know is what I know. I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m dreaming.

It was a marvelous day, and as a result, I wanted to explore my territory more. I made off, early in the morning, and I was planning on heading deeper South. Deeper than I ever went before. I began to pack. I took a knapsack, ready to fill it to the brim with goodies. For safe measure, I brought along a flashlight, in case I stayed up too late.

And I was off.

The wind, my friends, was chilling, and I felt myself relaxing as I went down my street, as I passed all the familiar places. I did my best to ignore the death. I was lucky, I went out early. The Natio Clock had yet to go off. I was making good time.

I eventually came across a road I never heard before, Martian, and I turned left. It was new, and it scared me, but the prospect of seeing new treasures encouraged me to continue on.

There was nothing down this street but bodies and stores on fire, nothing I could have searched through. The ashes polluted my nostrils, and I felt the need to sneeze. I reared back, and did such, and when I opened my eyes, something was at the end of the block. It was small, resembling such a small child, and my entire spine shuddered. And then it walked away. Left, down another street. Another pony. One like me. One I need.

“Little girl!” Too late. She was gone.

I followed her and my knapsack jiggled and I heard sounds of moving, but I turned left, I didn’t read the street name, and it was empty, no little filly.

My eye caught something. Light. And so I moved toward it, sticking with my hope of treasure and the light, and eventually I saw it was a sign. The sign said Pub in large neon green letters. I didn’t know what a pub was, and I was rather curious. And so I entered the pub.

The building was small, wooden, and ancient. It smelled of something strong, and as I opened the peeled white doors in the front, the smell only grew stronger. The inside was shocking to me, it was all new. It looked almost as if it was a restaurant, but I had been to too many of those and this looked nothing like that. A smell rose throughout the dusty air, and the fur stood up on my neck. Must be from the smell. I began to cautiously walk forward, each hoofstep cautiously taken. This was uncharted waters my friends. I looked at the empty tables, the empty chairs, and took a large gulp. I realized I was sweating.

To the left, there was a long…what does one call it? It was long, as long as a booth, but I had the idea it wasn't made for sitting. Perhaps, perhaps it was made as a table. Something was on this rather large table, a bottle. Glass. Sunlight filtered in, and I could see it was filled halfway with clear liquid.

Water.

Oh, let me tell you my friends how delighted I was! Water was scarce to come by, and usually had to haggle with Desond for a full tin cups worth. But this was perfect. Ripe for the taking.

I wanted to hold off, my friends. I wanted to bring it back, conserve it, make it last. But my throat was rather parched, and I had the chills, still, and water made me feel better. Despite the small amount of the dust in the water, it was generally clean. And so, with a big smile, I dropped my bag, picked up an overturned stool, and sat. I grabbed the bottle and oh my the fucking stench.

It smelled distastefully strong, as if it had been fermenting. My nose wrinkled in disgust, and I thought I was going to vomit. I felt myself wobble on the stool, and I almost fell off until I righted myself. Dust grew thicker.

I wanted to leave, throw the bottle away. My friends, I was disgusted, but still thirsty. It grew into a craving, grew from a small urge. Suddenly, I was glued to the seat, and my mind was clean for all but thirst. All but the drink. I needed to. For whatever reason, my friends, I needed it.

And so, with bated breath, I took the bottle, and made an effort not whif it. I brought the warm glass to my lips, and I let a touch of the liquid touch my lips, and eventually, I granted it permission into my mouth.

It had little taste at first, as all water should be. But as I swallowed, and it traveled down, it burned, and I was not expecting this. It burned me, made me feel warm, and it was unlike anything I ever felt. It was hugging me, it made me feel so loved as it emptied into my stomach. Things seemed less scary, and the prickling of my fur began to dissipate. Maybe, maybe this water was special. Maybe, it helped.

I finished swallowing, making a harmless grimace at the burn. It felt…

It felt like too much time had passed before I knew it. My next thought came to me sometime later, as I was no longer on the stool, but on my back, on the floor, staring up at the wooden ceiling, realizing just then there was a fan. A wooden one. Or maybe it was metal. Brown metal. I’m not sure. I do not know if metal can look like wood, but I was sure wood could in fact look like wood, so maybe, most likely, it was metal.

I did not know what happened to the glass. Perhaps, I drank all of the water. I wondered where I was. Wait. The Pub. Whoops.

Yes.

But maybe…

I don’t know what I’m thinking, each thought is a cutoff sentence-

Everything…

It feels like my head is on a pillow, a warm pillow-

Bleeds…

I wondered if I could have touched my nose with my bottom hoof.

Something…

It was cooler now, or hotter, it was hard to tell. I knew it wasn’t normal, the temperature. It felt off. It felt, wait. Wait a minute, now it's cold. Ok so it is definitely cold. I know something!

Something…

My tongue is hanging out of my mouth. My tongue hangs from my mouth. My tongue, my mouth, hanging, outside, hanging. Get in there you.

There…

I think it’s cool how everything lives together. Together. As I stared at the ceiling, the metal fan, I wondered, how did things get so good. I liked lying here, I like water. I liked living, even though my life is surrounded by those who lost it. I’m lucky. I don’t grieve. I have nopony to remember to grieve for. I have nothing to cry over except a lost treasure. I sit. I am the present.

Something there…

Wind, inside? It’s dark, the Nation Clock, it most likely struck already, it most likely went, it most likely went on, it most likely struck already.

Is…

How long? How long? How long? Been here? I drank so quickly, oh no, my stomach. I don't know how I am, I don’t know myself. It is all good my friends, I am not alone. I got myself. Myself. Myself is with me. Hello Myself. Myself stares at me from the ceiling. Hello Myself. Doesn’t change. Hi. Nothing. Say something but it does not, Myself does not at the top of the ceiling no it stares and leaves and it is staring no longer. It is staring no longer. It is staring no longer and yet…

Something is there watching me.

My head turns toward the entrance, and through the windows, I see the little girl. It is dark, it is night, and I am sleepy, but her figure is there. Her white ghostly white figure. It’s in a haze but she stood there, in the window, staring at me. I try to smile. She should not be afraid. I just had water, that's all. But she stares, and my haze dissipates slowly. And I see her.

Slowly, she comes more into focus. A little bow in her hair. A smile, a smile on her face. A smile on half of her face.

It was droopy, it was sick. It was sad as her face was gone except for the half. And she smiled at me with her half, and I felt so bad. I mouthed to her.

Hello.

She mouthed back to me. You are not scared.

Strangely, I was not. No, are you ok?

Shook her head. You can see me?

Yes.

You can see me?

Yes, are you ok? Are you ok? Do you need help?

Can you see me?

Yes, I said I could.

Can you see them?

“What?”

She pointed with ghostly white behind me and I looked.

Ghostly white ponies stood around me. Their faces were ruined, bodies maimed, minds destroyed. They were all staring at me, all white, and a scream lodged itself in my throat. I shouldn’t be scared, I told myself. But they stared. Fifty, no, one hundred, no, one thousand, no, I could not count. They all stared at me, all of them.

A stallion stood at the front, his face a mere skeleton, fragments of his eye clinging on his socket. His right hoof was mangled, bone peeking, skin twisted. I saw a headless body, and dotted with dried white blood. One was missing an eye. One was smiling at me, and I could see she had no tongue.

A stallion stepped forward, as I was now cowering against the table, shaking. I saw him come forward, a noose around his neck. It was puffy, swollen, I could see the pain. I could see everything. They started crying, and I tried to turn to see the girl, but I could no longer view her. My vision was blocked by the dead.

The hanged stallion spoke, which got my attention. I whipped around to see him open his mouth, and his bottom jaw fell out, and I saw sinews reach out, trying depretly to hold on to the piece. It failed, it fell to the bottom with no sound.

“Would you remember us?”

A scream, still there, would not come out. He came closer now, and I could almost smell the death.

“Would you remember?” he said with no jaw. And I could not answer him, I could not, and I winced, and I began to cry, and I was afraid.

“WOULD YOU REMEMBER???????” he yelled, and finally I screamed.

~

Ponies say it fades to black. For me, it was a jump cut.

I screamed, hoofs defending my face, when I opened my eyes a minute later. My friends, the room was empty. I gazed at the window. The girl was not there.

I looked to the left. The bottle, yes, empty, a small puddle at the cap. I tiredley hit it away. Never again.

To my right, a knapsack, my knapsack. Something I owned. I opened it up, and pulled out items. I took out a small toy monkey, a ballpoint pen, and my flashlight. I kept it and returned the other two. It was still dark and I hated being out in the dark. I did not want to sleep here though. I did not want to see them again.

I walked out steadily, my head pounding, my tongue feeling fat in my mouth. I felt so groggy, I felt sdo defeated. As I walked down the street, I shone my flashlight to try and jog my memory. Eventually I found my way back to my theater. I brought nothing, no glass, no mirror, no nothing.

As I trotted home, I made sure not to shine the light on the bodies.