A QUIET PLACE ~ EQUESTRIA GIRLS

PAX. C.S.P.B.

C.S.S.M.L.—N.D.S.M.D.

V.R.S.N.S.M.V.—S.M.Q.L.I.V.B.

Day 12

Limpid: to describe something as perfectly clear, transparent, or even simple.

Must’ve been very tired and exhausted. Nearly overslept and missed Mass. Our celebration of the Sacrifice is more limpid than the Low Tridentine and Novus Ordo, but only because of the dulcet silence. Those few of us Parish members still alive and attending remembered Our Lady of the Snows. When Beloved Rebel made it snow during the hottest month in Italy, exactly where she wanted a Church built for her Son to dwell. Fr. Redmane and I wrote some copies of his homily yesterday morning to distribute and reflect on today's memorial.

I was brought to the cellar afterwards, to get everyone else, especially those in charge, up to speed alongside Comet and Maud. We reported what we found, what was missing, and described how the lone drifter ran out of the hospital after busting the alarms. How it came without any reinforcements, despite all the noise. Almost like their hearing's too sensitive for that kind of intense racket. It’s becoming more limpid to us that such a lethal strength can have its own weakness. I’m trying not to imagine what might've happened if the backup power weren’t on for that to work.

Now Sparkler’s wondering what else she can do with all the surplus fireworks from last month’s Independence Day.

Since we had everybody present to hear all this news, Madame and Fr. Red decided to collaborate with Cadence in some sort of group talk. The former two started things off by sharing a couple of their own bouts of turmoil, sorrow and dread, including the notion that their respective messages that my group will carry won’t find anyone to receive them. Cadence spoke of her shared fears as a new mother among the others, then coaxed Armor to speak up about his own doubts and worries concerning his family, both absent and present.

We moved clockwise with those who stayed and were willing to partake. Came to Comet Tail who admitted he may not be up to traveling with myself and Maud Pie. He said how limpid it was to see the two of us as the calmest and most level-headed for the job. Made a point to emphasize how quickly and well we collaborated yesterday. She and I kept quiet, which, I guess, proved his point.

This prompted the mayor to ask for one, if not two volunteers for tomorrow's expedition. Big Mac was the first to raise his hand, assuring his little sis that it’s for the better he helps. Next came Miss Blush of all people, who timidly admitted she can gather plants, herbs and seeds along the way to help Golden Harvest start a garden. She added how she can move quietly around without anyone noticing. The fact that she survived the first two weeks at all sure adds merit to her claim. I just hope she’ll keep it that way.

I know, says the guy who got caught on a phone cable.

Slightly ticked that my cousins didn’t speak up throughout, but also glad at the same time. Not sure how well I could handle losing them in front of me too, or vice versa. Their names are Polish Gleam, Shoeshine and Fine Finish. Lots of childhood memories shared between us and our respectively deceased siblings.

After the meeting, Fr. Redmane and Madame Mayor had me and Pie stay in the cellar to spend the rest of the day in recuperation. Knowing how all that stress from yesterday can take its toll, with Tail as a limpid example, they insisted we stay and help care for the small ones, despite my disagreement. Fr. Red knows that I want to stay active after such high doses of adrenaline, stress and fear, which he said is why he wants me to stay. All that energy to help out downstairs, as well as ease some of the tension by interacting with the kids. He noted how limpid it was that the Cake twins, Pumpkin and Pound, have taken a liking to me. Pie made no effort to speak against this either, so any further arguments from me would be otiose.

Plus, the security cameras Sparkler set up are down there for us. We can watch out for any sudden or strange movements. She also jerry-rigged a sort of warning system with a switch next to the screens for the porch lights and light poles. So not to feel too useless, I can always take a turn as lookout, and give someone else a break from staring at the screens. They show the outside facing the main Church entry, as well as the school and rectory's front and back. Can see the front and back yard areas completely. There’s also one showing the school gymnasium and inside the Church at the nave.

We can see areas where pews are removed and replaced with unrolled rugs. Another is added to those already down the center aisle. For the sake of warmth and sound absorption in that echoic chamber, even with our bare feet. Salvaged rugs are rolled out on the gym floor also, where pews that are moved and tipped over can rest on them, offering a form of sleeping shelter for those of us here, and any other refugees that may come.

Though she doesn’t seem alert to what’s happening around her, Maud convinced me she’s far more observant than she lets on. So, she’s been taking shifts with the cameras throughout the day, having Mudbriar by her side as support for one another. Armor and some Flash Sentry character are seen slowly helping with a pew and rug project on the screens, while his wife and daughter sit in front of me and the orphaned twins. As time passed, this activity proved helpful to lower my anxiety.

“Seems you three have found a new family,” said Cadence, still with a gentle tone like everyone who comes to the cellar.

I said in kind, “Starting to look that way. See what happens, one day at a time.” The two rolled a stuffed ball between the three of us before moving closer to Flurry.

“Still call out for ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa.’”

The past ten days were spent having evenings with Pound and Pumpkin, helping to change, feed and keep them calm. Often seen looking around, eyes scanning the area as they’d cry out for their parents. Sometimes, I get the word ‘Pinkie’ from the toddlers. Try to use the feeding solution sparingly. A.) Since we're still in short supply of it. B.) Don't want the little ones start to get hooked on the stuff at such a young age. If keeping their head against my chest while humming a lullaby doesn’t work, then I have to take the drastic step of placing each in a sound-proof box, wrapped with blankets and oxygen masks for the night.

“What did you tell them,” Cadence asked.

“That they were taken,” I said, plain and simple. “Just like mine.”

“What else?” Flurry, Pumpkin and Pound started rolling around and climbing on top of each other.

“Said I know they’re scared and hurt. That they’re not alone.” I’m guessing she noticed how little I shared after relaying what happened.

“Do you feel alone?”

That question still rattles my brain, long after the fact. More constant and intense than that alarm at the hospital. Do I feel alone?

Why would I? I’m surrounded by other survivors with what’s left of their families and loved ones. I have my cousins. Got a couple of toddlers stuck to me like magnets now. My Parish priest is still alive. Godly Rescue the Anointed One is miraculously right there to receive Him every chance I can. Do I feel alone?

“Confused,” was my feeble answer. “Overwhelmed.”

“About?”

“Why can’t I seem to accept what happened was beyond me? Why did they have to lose so much just so I can find them? What am I supposed to do with them, since there’s no guarantee I’ll make it back? –

Other things I said I can’t transliterate.

Too much condensation to write.

The twins and her daughter grew aware of my predicament. Just went straight up to my lap, looking at me with those colorful pearls for eyeballs. So pure, so much genuine wonder inside them. Like the big sister and mother that I lost, Cadence came up and hugged me. The three little ones joined snuggly in the middle.

Why?

I just don’t get it. Why?

I can’t understand it. Amen.

Signed faithfully,

Solace Sheen A.M.D.G.