Chapter Two
Side Effects
-Present Day-
It’s been eight years.
I rolled over in my half-asleep state.
Eight years. And you still have the same dream over and over, you stupid mare.
The blanket had slid off my leg. I sleepily pulled it back up.
He isn’t coming back. You can’t bring him back. You stupid mare.
He’s there. I can see him: his soft pale orange coat, his slightly shaggy blonde mane and tail with that one little green streak. His beautiful, twinkling, big brown eyes. And his smile. Oh, his smile.
I groaned and rolled over again.
Near, far, wherever you are,
I believe that the heart does go on...
Once more, you open the door,
and you’re here in my heart
and my heart will go on and on...
“No...” I moaned. His voice... It sang to me... I was falling asleep again...
You’re here,
there’s nothing I fear,
and I know that my heart will go on,
we’ll stay forever this way,
you are safe in my heart,
and my heart will go on and on...
I sat straight up, gasping. My heavy breath was all I could hear. His voice was gone. I fell back into my bed and groaned. Every night for eight years had been like this. I glanced at my alarm clock. Only five minutes before it went off anyway.
I flipped the alarm to off and rolled out of bed. The floor was cold, making me almost hop over to my desk and mirror.
The glass was cracked from the top of the left corner down to the bottom right corner. I had blasted it with magic one night in anger. I hated my reflection.
Why am I still here and he isn’t?
A photograph sat tucked into the corner of the mirror frame. I picked it up with my magic and looked at it dully. It was me and him. We were standing in front of the soccer field.
He loved soccer.
He fit in so well on that field. He had one hoof on a soccer ball and the other around my shoulder. He was so confident and smiling, as if he was the sun itself. I just stood shyly next to him, smiling in my own little way. I was so plain next to him. Yet we went together so well.
He loved soccer and I loved...
I shook my head and placed the photo back where it came from. I trotted into my bathroom and brushed through my mane. The curls from my filly years were gone, and my mane now fell flat and silky against my face and neck.
He had often commented on how much he liked my curls...
Now they were gone. Just like him.
I sighed again and threw the brush at the bathtub. It clanked against the tiles and knocked into the rose scented shampoo, before clattering into the bottom of the tub and lying still.
He liked smelling the roses...
“BUCK IT! JUST BUCK IT!” I screamed and fell backwards against the wall. Tears streamed down my face.
I don’t know how long I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried so much since his passing. Time was slipping by without me. While I sat and mourned the only thing I had ever loved, time was moving on.
I did love him.
“No, that’s stupid. He was just a friend. We were so young.”
But I did love him.
I lifted my head and stared at the ceiling.
You stupid mare. What does age have to do with anything? Love knows no limits. Why didn’t I tell him?
“Why didn’t I tell him?” More tears splashed to the floor. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know...”
What was the last thing I said to him? Last thing I did?
My mind went blank.
…
“…”
What should I have said to him?
That was enough for one morning.
As if something had clicked in my mind, all emotion was wiped from my face, leaving me with a blank, distant stare. I rose from the floor, washed my face clear of tears, and left.
Going outside was difficult for me. All my peers had grown up and gotten jobs around Ponyville. It was at a point where I couldn’t go out onto my front step without seeing someone who gave me a bad memory.
Thus, I found staring at the ground a wonderful antidote for such a dilemma. Today I only needed to get some paint in Ponyville. Then I could return to my hermit like house. I hated being in town. So many ponies looked at me strangely.
I wandered into the town, keeping my eyes down. Ponies were walking all around me and chattering away. Several nearly bumped into me. Eventually I made it the the little art shop. The door was shut with a closed sign. I sighed. Now I would have to leave my house again tomorrow. I turned and walked toward home.
No one ever remembers. What ponies don’t want to remember, they won’t. It’s just that simple.
Everypony makes fun of me for having a short term memory. Yet if you ask any of them what happened eight years ago, they’ll just look at you funny.
I remember.
I remember everything…
Please... ask me... make me tell you everything...
I turned sharply around the next building...
… and ran right into a stallion walking along to road.
“I’m sorry.” I said roughly without meaning it, as I picked myself up out of the dust. My eyes fell on him and my cold exterior faltered a moment. He was grey-blue with a black and bright green mane. His cutie mark was a bass clef with a set of headphones around it. He shook dust from his coat and looked at me. His eyes were like twinkling blue diamonds.
“It’s fine.” He said, smiling. Then he squinted at me. “I know almost everypony in Ponyville now. I’ve only been here a week, but I don’t believe I’ve met you yet.”
I felt a slight blush come to my cheeks. “Oh, I’m Easel Inkwell.”
“Storm Half-Note.” Storm eyed my expression. I’m sure it was a mixture of hunger and a lack of composure that rarely showed itself on my face. “Would you like to get something to eat?” He nodded toward Sweet Apple Acres. “The Apple family invited me to lunch.”
I smiled slightly. “Well...” I caught my smile and erased it quickly. I had never met any of the Apple family... “I suppose...”
Storm looked puzzled at my sudden change of expression but didn’t comment.
We turned and walked towards the ever famous Sweet Apple Acres. I tried not to look at Storm. Whenever I did, I got a funny tingly feeling in my chest. I remained silent the whole time, listening to Storm try to engage me in conversations: the weather, music, the Wonderbolts, the Gala, my cutie mark...
Eventually we reached Sweet Apple Acres. An orange mare with a blonde mane and a stetson was waiting for us. A little yellow filly with a red mane and a big bow was bouncing up and down around her.
The sight of the orange mare made me freeze. She looked like a female version of Sprint without the green streak.
Storm glanced back startled. “Is something wrong?”
I shook my head and cleared my face of any expression that might have been there. “No, no, everything is fine.”
Storm looked unconvinced but smiled as we approached the two ponies.
“Well howdy! Brought along a new friend I see!” The orange mare called out, smiling. She had a major southern twang. It was kind of funny. Storm nodded his head toward me.
“Yep. This is Easel. Ran into her in Ponyville and thought she’d like to tag along.”
I stood beside the stallion awkwardly. I was definitely not used to being around other friendly ponies.
“Ah’m Applejack and this here’s Applebloom.” Applejack began walking towards the big red barn a few yards away. “Come on then! Food’s still hot!”
The filly, Applebloom, cheered happily and ran off into the barn as we trotted behind her. Storm and Applejack chatted idly behind me. The area seemed friendly. Trees were everywhere and the entire place smelled sweetly of apples. Applebloom disappeared into the barn. I stopped a few feet away. I could hear ponies talking inside.
Applejack and Storm reached me. Applejack finished her sentence, smiled at me widely, and went into the barn. Storm came beside me.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice held genuine concern, something I hadn’t heard from anypony in a long time.
A sense of confusion came to me. My usual feelings of fear and disrespect for all ponies were mixed with old feelings of happiness and belonging. A faint blush appeared in my cheeks and I dropped my gaze quickly.
“Nothing. I’m just... shy.” The stallion shifted as I spoke. A quick glance to his expression showed he didn’t quite believe me yet he didn’t persist.
Storm sighed and smiled at me. “Well, come on then. Food’ll be gettin’ cold!”
I chuckled lightly at his improper language and followed him into Applejack’s barn.