The Trotting Dead

              I stared quietly at the cuffs chaining my wrists together, aware that my whole world was about to be changed because of one stupid lie....What was I even thinking? I had held ALL of it in for SO long and I...I just had to be so...... stupid.

My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the officers eye on me, he had turned the mirror, adjusting it to my face.

"Well," he started "I reckon you didn't do it then."

I looked over out of the window, trying to ignore the conversation.

"Does it really matter?" I said quietly, trying not to break out into a sob.

"Y'know I've driven a BUNCH of fellas out to this prison. Lord knows how many." I stared at the back of his blue and black mane, which rubbed up against the old, leather, car seat.

"Usually about now is when I get the 'I didn't do it." He continued, a small hoof gesture in the air, and he was done.

"Not from me." I replied, sulking slightly deeper into the back seat. He just looked at me, then continued to drive further to the prison.

Suddenly the radio came on, I carefully listened to it, seeking something to take my mind off of the present situation.

"We've got what looks like a 10-91E Near Peachtree exit of 285. All cars asked to keep on the lookout for a 91V in the area."

I looked at the rear view mirror, staring into his eyes.

"I've followed your case a little bit, you being a Macon girl and all." He said, breaking the silence.

"So you've got an opinion then?" I asked, awaiting an answer.

He looked at me.

"I've seen some cases in my time, yours isn't much different from all the others." He said, trying not to look into my eyes. I stayed silent.

"Oh..." I said, after a short state of thought. I had already knew what I did was horrible...

"Be advised of medical personnel on route to Hartsfield, various 10's and 20's coming in." The radio stated, I was confused on his lack of attention.

"I have a nephew up at UGA, you teach there long?" he asked, his pathetic attempt at a conversation.

"Goin on my sixth year." I said, hoping the subject would change.

"Your dad worked at the plant, up north right?" He said changing the subject. I suddenly wished he hadn't said anything. I stayed completely silent, my eyes drifting back to my handcuffs, which had now started to rub uncomfortably under my fur.

"....You wanna know how I see it?" He said. I had just noticed his tall hair rubbed against the ceiling of the cop car as he moved.

"Sure..." I sighed, awaiting his answer.

He began to speak, then saw my expression, he hesitated.

"Seems like you just chose the wrong thing to do." He said, ending our conversation.

"Riot in progress. All officers available for incoming 217's. Rolling calls and dispatches to all locations." The radio spoke again.

"...Any of that seem IMPORTANT to you?" I said, still confused by his lack of empathy for the current "riot".

"All of it," he said "that box NEVER shuts up. Sit in this seat and pay too much attention, and you'll drive yourself crazy."

He was right, I let it go and continued to sit in silence.

"I'm driving this man once, h-he was the WORST one. He wouldn't stop going on about how he didn't do it!" He continued his story "He was an older fella. Big, soft, eyes behind a pair of smart folk glasses, and he's just WAILING back there, says it wasn't him, crying and snottin' all over, right where you're sitting!"

I started at my seat, imagining the snot that covered it, I gagged slightly. He reached over and turned off his radio.

"Then before long he starts kicking the back of the seat, li-like a fussy foal on an airplane. And I tell him he's gotta stop, that's celestial property, and I'll be forced to ZAP him otherwise." I began to smile.

"So he stops," he continued "and having exhausted all of his options, he starts cryin of for his mamma. "Mamma, it's all a big mistake! It wasn't me!"

"Man." I said, laughing slightly.

"Yeah! They caught the fucker red handed! Stabbin' his wife, cuttin' her up as the boys came through the door! He sits in the back of my car, screamin' bloody murder that it wasn't him! I think he actually believed it himself.....It goes to show, ponies will up and go mad when they believe their life is over."

He was right....

My thoughts were interrupted by a figure in the distance.

A pony. Right in the middle of the highway.

"Oh I got another one for you! This one is a little less depressing and a little more HILARIOUS if I do say so myself."

The pony became closer and closer, he continued to drive, unaware of the figure before us.

"OH SHIT!!!" I screamed, but it was too late.

The car hit him, toppling us over off of the side of the road. I couldn't hear, I just watched in horror as the fall continued, trying to ignore the pain.

Then, I blacked out.