A Nightmare Night to Remember

Isn't it funny when you think back on the good ol' days, and you can almost taste the flow of memories rushing through in perfect clarity?

Life keeps drifting on now, and everything I have ever aspired to be is just unwanted cargo on a distant dinghy sailing off to some forgotten isle. I know who and what, but it's the why I can hardly recall. Why the hopes? Why the dreams? Why that night?

I feel as if everything's in focus now, like the years have peeled back the layers of truth for me to finally see. I feel as if I can finally just let it go and sleep. Goddess knows I need it.

But there's just one thing: this hunger. A raw craving eating away deep inside. I've unwrapped this nest of lies, and all that remains is a biting hunger. But for what? Is it companionship I miss most? That strength that comes from knowing you aren't stumbling through this alone? Having somepony to hold you, comfort you, tell you again and again it was never your fault, that you didn't ask for this - that no one asked for this - and there's no stepping back through the threads of time and doing it all over?

Perhaps… yes. Perhaps I simply need somepony to which I can recount this tale of mine… Somepony… like you.

So settle down now, and watch that broken foreleg - it will mend once the transformation is complete, but don't you go knocking it about!

Hush now, quiet now. Listen, and Auntie Sweetie Belle will spin you a yarn you'll keep 'til the end of your days…

We were just fooling around, honestly. See, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom and I - we were the Cutie Mark Crusaders - and we wanted something super special for Nightmare Night. Something to really terrify everypony in Ponyville. Or at least, that was Scoots' idea. I only wanted to be—

"A frilly princess…? Really?" Apple Bloom stared at me like I'd gone crazy. She and Scootaloo exchanged a look.

I sort of pouted in response, sticking out my lower lip as far as it would go. Like that would work.

Apple Bloom just snorted, and Scootaloo finally turned to me, sighing, "Can't you just get Rarity to sew us some zombie costumes or something? I can't find anything remotely scary here!" She paused meaningfully, then added, "Except maybe all the cobwebs everywhere!"

Oh that's right. I nearly forgot to mention. At present, we were in the basement of Carousel Boutique, rooting through Rarity's old stuff for Nightmare Night costumes. There was just junk, mostly. But the old room had a lot of clothing and fabric strewn about in tatters on mannequins that had cracks splitting their sides. Which, at the time, I thought was kind of weird. I mean, if you knew my sister - she's awfully particular about neatness and glamour or whatever - then you'd know she could never stand for such an untidy mess. But anyhow, I just brushed that thought aside. We Cutie Mark Crusaders were on a mission, and when that happened, we were undeterred from our goals!

As the other two fillies roamed around, poking at things, I found my attention captured by a certain mannequin. This one certainly wasn't like the other beat-up ol' things. This had a pearly sheen to it, and there were these itty-bitty gems of a deep blue as lovely as the sea set into where the eyes of the doll should be. They seemed to twinkle with some ethereal feel to it.

I slowly approached the mannequin, noticing the waves of silk fabric that clung to its sides. It was sort of pretty, I guess. Rose-red ribbons draped across the back in a woven lattice work, delicately entwining with strips of regal navy-blue. There were these gems that hung 'round the throat that looked reminiscent of raindrops. At the train of the dress, there was this ripple of sheer fabric that quite reminded me of misty mornings.

A nice effect, one ruined by a sudden nudge from the side. My heart racing a mile, I whipped around quick to see what it was.

"Apple Bloom!" I gasped. "You… you sc—"

"Scare ya? Ah always thought you should be the yella one," the infernal earth pony giggled, glancing at my pale-white coat to emphasize her point. When I only frowned, lips stretched tight, she said, "Hey, what's gotten in ter ya? What'cha lookin' at?"

I gestured toward the peculiar looking mannequin.

"Oh, that's kinda purty, if ya like that sort of thing. That yer costume for Nightmare Night?" She had that awful smirk again as she said those last words.

Really, it's funny when I think of how much she's changed since we first met. She was a lot more mellow and kind, for one, and she at least attempted to be polite.

I knew she was thinking the same thing, probably cracking herself up inwardly about how interested - well, obsessed - I was becoming in fashion, or, what she so elegantly described as "frilly fru-fru nonsense for uptight snobs". Well, I was Rarity the dressmaker's sister, wasn't I?

I shrugged off her cutting remark, saying, "Oh I dunno, I just think it looks nice. Kinda like those singers you see performing in Canterlot, you know? You're waiting in a theater of thousands, and all the lights dim 'til it's dark as night, then this single spotlight hits the stage. And then somepony in a flowing dress slowly floats to the stage, and she opens her mouth, and you can hear her voice like a beacon of light rippling through the hushed audience, and—"

"Yeah, ah get it, Sweetie Belle. Shucks, you'd think you'd be some fancy, prose-talkin' poet the way you go on like that, 'stead of a singer like what's on yer cutie mark." She had a funny look in her eyes; the rose-red irises were in half slits, and she had her mouth scrunched up in a frown. From behind us, I could hear Scootaloo sigh, and I knew she was thinking about being the only blank flank in school. It was a sore subject among us, so I tried to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"Uh, hey look! There's this thing beneath the mannequin." I honestly had no idea whether or not there existed such a convenient distraction, but thankfully a brief glance revealed a dusty book nestled in the folds of the dress that trailed on the ground.

I dragged it out and blew on the leather-bound cover. It was sort of squarish, and it had a date and year penned in purple, spidery handwriting. No doubt it was written by my sister.

"What in the hay is that?" came Apple Bloom's voice, a lot closer now as she leaned over to peer at my discovery.

I flipped to a page at random, flopping down on the dust-riddled floor to get a better look. A giggle ripped through me as I saw what the book contained.

"It's… it's… my sister's photo album of when she was in school! Everypony looks so much younger!" I shoved the tome toward her. "Hey look, there's my sister! She's surrounded by a bunch of colts who are all fawning over her. Typical Rarity."

I laughed at the snooty look on Rarity's face as she sat gracefully on a white bench, hooves folded neatly beneath her. I noticed some of the ponies crowding around were bearing drinks of various sizes. Although it was a black-and-white photo, you could tell that the drinks were all of vibrant colors. There were lots of pictures like this, even one of Rarity in the very dress I'd found the book beneath, and then there were all the notes meticulously recorded in the same elegant font as the front of the album: just little things like what boys she liked or hated, and what their habits were. It was kind of creepy to tell you the truth.

I watched as Apple Bloom flipped through the pages, occasionally laughing at some snide comment Rarity had written. "Hey," she suddenly said, "I wonder if mah sister's in here?" Then, just as abruptly: "Oh that prissy snob! How dare she call Applejack a 'smelly pig'!? She ain't even that smelly… Maybe a little when she's out in the fields or somethin'…"

Noticing that Scootaloo still seemed a little distant - she was brooding a lot lately, especially concerning her lack of a cutie mark - I said in a louder-than-necessary voice, "I wonder if maybe Rainbow Dash is in here? I know Rarity talked about her back when they were fillies."

It worked like a charm. One second the pegasus was slinking through the labyrinth of tired fabric, then suddenly, she was right by our sides, her nose pressed to the yellowed sheets of the photo album, a look of crazed elation lighting up her lilac eyes.

She eagerly thumbed through the pages, her forelegs an orange blur. "Ohmygosh!" she nearly screamed. "It's her!"

And it was. No mistaking that rainbow hair, even in black-and-white.

The photo Scootaloo was getting in a frenzy about was the largest I'd seen, covering an entire two pages, so that it creased in the middle. There was a heart traced around a cluster of ponies. Rarity was in the center, and she appeared to be having a group hug with a few others. I saw Rainbow Dash among them, and then some others I didn't recognize.

"Your sister was best friends with Rainbow Dash?" Scootaloo had this incredulous look on her face; her eyebrows were up in crazy angles, and she gave me a strange stare. I found myself tracing the penned words "Best friends" that was neatly printed beneath the photo, avoiding the orange pegasus' questioning glance. "Rarity must've been special if Rainbow left Cloudsdale just to hang out with her," she muttered.

"Yeah… um, seems like she also names her other friends here," I said swiftly. "Look, there's also Seabreeze, and Chocolate Kiss, and Chry… Chrysalis?" I had trouble with the third name, and my mind was preoccupied with the pronunciation of it. To be perfectly honest, it never occurred to me that it held any significance whatsoever until I heard a sharp intake of breath from my friends. "What?"

Apple Bloom's eyes were digging furiously into mine. "Don't ya know who that is?" I was frozen, staring at her. "Ain't ya supposed ter be the wordy one who remembers near everythin'?"

"Yeah, Sweetie Belle," Scoots chimed in, her eyebrows raised again. "Don't you remember? That wedding, a few years back? When there was that whole fiasco with those creepy insect things attacking Canterlot?"

My mouth formed an O of surprise, but nothing came out.

"Chrysalis is the pony-like one. She had all these horrible holes in her legs an' wings—"

"—And she almost killed Princess Celestia! Princess Celestia! Who's like the most all-powerful alicorn—"

"—An' Twilight Sparkle was the only one who knew what ter do. She knew it weren't truly Princess Cadance—"

"—And Rainbow Dash totally killed all those changeling freaks. Now that's what I call awesome."

Like I said, it all came rushing back in a flow of thoughts and recollections, and it was a bit of a nasty hit to the gut. I kept picturing that fateful day, and the lovely wedding tarnished with the stain of evil, a monstrous, sharp green that bled through the memories of soft white gowns and bright blossoms.

Corny as it is to say, I felt like that day really changed me. It woke me up to the reality of the world. It taught me that there will always be obstacles to everything you dream, and you have to shove and fight to claim your own. And even when the world tells you you're wrong, mercilessly beating you down, you've got to persevere. Just like Twilight when she had to face all her friends berating her and the princess practically condemning her for her suspicion of the fake Princess Cadance.

And I think it was then that I knew my fanciful frolics as a Cutie Mark Crusader were mere folly. I drifted away from my friends a little after that day. They were my anchor, holding me back from my aspirations, and inch by inch, the ropes that tied us together frayed ever so slightly. And years later, Apple Bloom's still tethered to her family farm, like we all secretly knew she'd be, and Scootaloo's still stuck to the dirt of Equestria, grounded and lost. As for me? I've been gifted with the voice of a songbird, free to spread my wings and fly. Or, I would be, if not for them.

But anyway, I was just sitting there, dumbstruck. The other two fillies were still babbling on, their voices rising higher and higher. I just pushed the book away, or maybe I kicked it somewhere. I don't quite recall. As my memories faded away, I think I got to my feet and stumbled a few steps.

"Sweetie Belle? You doin' alright there?" As if she were truly concerned. When I said nothing, she offered, "Should we go an' get Rarity? Ah can fetch her if ya want."

"H-hey," I said weakly, "why don't we keep this to ourselves for now? Don't want to make a fuss, you know."

After the other two nodded assent, we left the basement and dispersed, Scootaloo mumbling something about having to use last year's costume again. I didn't pause to watch them leave, merely went up the stairs and through a side door that led to my very meager bedroom. I plopped onto my tiny bed, thinking.

In the picture of Rarity's "best friends" - I shuddered just thinking of the phrase - Chrysalis looked completely normal. She was just a simple earth pony of dark fur and pale-blue mane. She was smiling, even, and it was a genuine smile. And it really made me wonder. Was it just an act? A ruse to get in with my sister and feed off of the love they shared? It sickened me just to think of it.

My mind was also plagued with questions of what-if: What if she really was just a normal pony? What if she had later become the freak of a changeling I knew her as? What if those friends of hers - and Rarity - had become changelings as well?

I didn't honestly know who to trust or what to think. So I hunkered down beneath my soft blankets, pulling them close around my body. Rarity had holed herself up in the sewing room for some big dressmaking commission, so she wouldn't notice if I missed dinner.

I wasn't hungry then, just tired. Exhausted from these thoughts, these doubts. My life was so stable, so… monotonous, and I felt like it was a plank a wood drifting nowhere in particular. Maybe all I needed was a little change...

AN: Made for EQD's Nightmare Night fic contest. Also my first pony fanfic. So please hit me with your critiques and suggestions and spelling/grammar fixes! There are sure to be tons as this was all written from 8 - 11 pm each night, and fatigue always makes my typing look funny. Oh, and um, hope you enjoyed reading this mess.