The Machinest

by Spastic Foot

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Comedy
Length: 834

So you want a story? I think I have something a bit better. Let me tell you about how I died.

My life, and the whole of my death. It's all here. From beginning to end. So come and listen as I tell you my tale before I die.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-31 22:40:24 UTC

An Entrance

So this is how it all ends. It's funny really, they say when it happens you won't feel a thing. Well I feel a whole damn lot right now. The regret, the fun, the sadness, the pain.My life in all it’s glory. My dying moments fade as I look back at the past. Stifled giggles and a pain in my chest. It was a ton of fun.

Now you may wonder who I am. Talking to you about what is happening. It may not matter much ,to you at least, but this is my dying moment so I could care less if you are wondering. I am...well I would be getting ahead if I told you who I was. All part of a plan you see. Or is it plot? Never mind that. So here we are, I'm dying slowly and you're here, to listen to my story, my life. Now where to start.... How about at the beginning, the very beginning.

I was born, like most ponies, in a room of white and chrome. Doctors all around and my father nearby. Unconscious of course, Celestia knows that stallion can't handle blood. Anyways, I wasn't particularly strange, being an earth pony. Rust red hair, a bronze looking coat. Nothing out of the ordinary. Doctors said I was as healthy as I could be. Dad told me to be proud of the fact. Never did give me a reason why.

Mom didn't make it though. She died giving birth to me. Dad never blamed me for it, at least he didn't act like it. I asked about her over the course of my foalhood. He said she was the nicest pony you could have met. I would have liked to meet her, might be able to soon. Enough of that though, it's still hard to talk about. Especially for dad, that whole month was hard for him. He said the first week was the worst.

He went on a bender. Left me home alone, not returning until it was morning. I was left to my own devices and like any foal, I wound up wounded, severely. I cut off a part of my left ear. Blood was everywhere and dad wasn't there. He returned of course and saw the scene. Being drunk at the time, he thought of it as wine or ketchup. Anyways to make a long story short, he found me crying holding my still bleeding ear and something snapped in him. Said that it was his parental instincts finally kicking in. He called me the 'silver lining that set him straight.' So ever since then I was Silver Bearing.

Silly story for a silly name but I like it. Gives it that whole 'tragically beautiful' vibe. Anyways I grew up, in the city of Manehatten. South side of Bucklynn. And let me tell you it was a crazy place. Thugs and bullies, everywhere. I tried to stay out of it, but you know how it works. I was young, very young, and very emotional. Things were said and the beatings became rough. So I fought back as hard as I could. Let me tell you this, I was good. Very good. My small size kept me nimble, and I glided around my opponents. But after a time I grew anxious for the next fight. I became power hungry.

All it took was one thug to put me in my place. Just one. I thought I could take him, I thought I was the best. Like any other foalish colt, I thought wrong. He had a knife to back him up, and more experience. It was a short fight, or rather a short beating. I got hurt something fierce. He never did stab, just slice. It hurt and I ran. All the way home. Dad did his best but I ended up with a few scars, nothing too noticeable. After that dad said it wasn't safe to stay. Luna knows he was right. Bucklynn was never safe, only less dangerous.

Looking back now I had a huge rough and tumble foalhood. All those fights and late nights. It's no wonder I ended up the position I'm in now. Guess those power hungry tendencies rose up again. Anyways where was I? Oh yes, after the thug.

We moved around after that. Stayed in Trottingham, then Baltimare. We've been just about everywhere. Modern day nomads I suppose. It was a few years before we settled down again, I was about six or seven at the time.The town was a small place, probably no more than a few hundred ponies living there. Everything was completely different than the cities. Dad said it felt like home, this wasn't any home of mine. I didn't like it, not at first. Everything was all sunshine and rainbows here. But I get ahead of myself. I think a little more detail is needed. So if you aren't sitting happily, get comfy. My life won’t wait for you.