The imagination of a child is vast.
The school bell rings. She says goodbye to her friends. She says goodbye to her teacher, to the bugs, to the trees.
And then she begins the trot.
With outward thrusts of her hoof, things disappear. Click! goes a rock. Click! goes a flower. Click! goes a businesspony's tie. It's fun. It's harmless magic.
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
More things disappear. Earrings on a fashionable mare here, a vase near a door there. She can see ponies chuckling as they pass her. Chuckles of "how adorable", or chuckles of "how stupid"? Who was to say.
Click!
Click!
Click!
She sees two stallions fighting in the middle of the street. With two points of her hoof, they disappear, and she continues trotting along, adding a lovely humming to her journey.
Click!
Click!
Click!
Her stomach starts to rumble. Maybe she could grab a quick snack at Sugarcube Corner. She still has bits left over from her lemonade stand. Eagerly, she picks up the pace.
Click!
Click!
Click!
"Hi there!" an energetic voice calls. "I'll be right with you!"
The filly looks around. The store seems rather busy today. She spots a mare and a stallion fighting, with a colt munching away on a muffin.
Click!
Click!
They're gone, but the colt doesn't notice. He continues eating like nothing has happened.
"Sorry about that!" Pinkie emerges from the kitchen, with her iconic smile. "What can I get you?"
The filly looks at her options. She thinks about how many bits she has. She tells Pinkie she wants a chocolate cupcake and a frosted donut.
"Mm, good choices!" Pinkie says. "If you don't mind waiting, I'd love to make them fresh for you!"
Waiting...waiting is perfectly fine. The filly has time. She says no, she wouldn't mind waiting.
"Okay! Have a seat, and I'll bring your yummy sweets out to you!"
Looking around the shop, though, there's only one seat. Quickly, the filly claims it before anypony else can, and begins to pony-watch.
Click! goes one mare. Click! goes another stallion. Both were fighting and using bad words. She doesn't want to hear bad words.
She thinks about what else she can do after she eats. She didn't make any plans to hang out with friends, but maybe somepony else would be willing to...
...No. She should go home. She doesn't want to wander around in the dark.
Her hooves tap impatiently on the table for a while before pink flashes in the corner of her eye. "Here you go!" Pinkie declares, placing a plate with the selected pastries on the table.
The filly carefully asks for a bag. Once Pinkie heads back into the kitchen to retrieve one, she looks over her food and decides to take a bite of the cupcake. Bottom-first, just as her friend had told her -- that way, it doesn't feel awkward.
"Hey, a cupcake-bottoms-up pony! You don't see those every day!" Pinkie giggles and places a small white bag on the table. "Here you go!"
In exchange, the filly pulls her saddlebag off of her and takes out the necessary bits to pay for her food. Pinkie wishing her a "funtastic day" made her smile, though it didn't last for long.
Once she finishes with the cupcake, she tucks the donut into her saddlebag, slides it back on, and heads out.
Click!
Click!
Click!
More things disappear. A screaming mare here, a violent stallion there.
Click!
Click!
Click!
As she gets closer to her destination, her body tenses up ever so slightly.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
She stands on the doorstep of her home, only a quaint two stories. Slowly, she places a hoof on the doorknob and turns it, wincing as the door creaks.
No one appears to be here. She wipes her hooves on the mat and goes upstairs. Maybe it's a good idea to eat that donut after all. It would at least provide her some nourishment.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
She nudges the door open to her room quietly, and closes it behind her just the same. With a sigh, she takes off her saddlebag and sets it in the corner of the room, then takes out the donut and sits on her bed. Saliva coats her tongue, her taste buds eager to relish the taste of more food.
It enters her mouth. It's...good. But of course; it is fresh. Fresh things always taste better.
Once she's finished, she heads to the bathroom to wash her hooves, then goes back to her room and lays down on her bed.
A muffled voice resounds from the first story. She can't understand what's being said, nor can she understand the tone. She bolts up, as though waking up from a horrible nightmare.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
This is no longer imaginary.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Nothing is disappearing anymore.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
She has no power here.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Hoofsteps begin trudging up a flight of stairs. Calm, like a friend approaching a friend for idle conversation. Too calm for her liking.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
She looks around the room. Out the window. Under her desk.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Desperate clicks, doing nothing.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
She almost wants to scream. That's what her unicorn friends do. Put more power into it. But she can't.
The hoofsteps are moving down the hall now.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Her heart begins to race. Her body fully tenses up now. But she will not resign to her fate. Not yet.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Closing her eyes, she tries once more for the door.
"Click..."
"Click..."
"Click..."
Nothing happens.
The hoofsteps have stopped.
The door creaks open.
The filly straightens. Tries to make herself look as big as possible.
A mare, large for her size, with her coat a very light blue, her mane in white curls, bags under her cool green eyes.
The filly points at her.
"...Click..."
"...Click..."
"...Click..."
The mare sneers at her.
She made a mistake by clicking this time.
