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/bootleg/ - Carpathia Chapter 1-5 by Anonymous_Green (Derpy)
By BlueGemCreated: 2021-01-14 08:35:26
Expiry: Never
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--- 01.
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>You ordered a 'random selection' discount Chinese pony model.
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>There's a small hope inside of you that it will be something cool.
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>Probably not though, since you've heard how crappy these things are.
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>And a random selection model was all you could afford.
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>Finally, it arrives.
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>In a giant box with yellow masking tape all fucking over it.
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>It seems someone spilled a mystery liquid on it as well.
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"Well, let's see the damage."
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>You open the box.
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>Styrofoam peanuts everywhere.
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>There's a piece of paper with a bunch of Chinese moon runes on it.
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>Though, at the top there is some English writing.
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>'Model 0023. Derby Hoobs'
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>The paper falls out of your hands.
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"Oh God... What have I done?"
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--- 02.
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>You don't know why you did it.
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>No- you know exactly why you did it.
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>This never ending loneliness will make the lowest man howl at the moon...
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>Ah fuck, you're kind of drunk.
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>Well, the Derpy Hooves pony bot is finished.
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>She sits on your living room floor, still lifeless.
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>You have her plugged in to your computer, still booting up.
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>This 'Derby Hoobs' is a mess.
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>Her mane and tail are orange.
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>Fucking orange.
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>And one of her wings is missing.
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>You decided to attach the one wing, in the hopes she could still get some use out of it.
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>Okay, so for whatever reason, the Chinese manufacturers decided to put her model number on her head.
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>There is a bright red '23' stamped in the middle of her forehead.
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>And last but not least: her eyes.
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>Yes, they got the 'derpiness' of her eyes right.
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>It's the color that's all wrong.
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>To be honest, her eyes are creepy.
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>They are red.
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>Crimson red.
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>When you first plugged her in to the computer to boot up, they glowed, then went dark again.
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>It made your heart skip.
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>You hope they don't glow like that when she comes to life.
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>Another odd feature is that her tail is way too long.
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>It's like they forgot to turn the machine off that made her tail.
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>When she walks, it's going to drag on the floor behind her.
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>Oh well, maybe you'll trim it up later.
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>Right now, you just want to get her started up.
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>And another beer...
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>You get up to go to the kitchen.
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>Maybe this was a mistake.
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>There's no way this thing could come close to the ponies you've loved for years.
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>"HELLO!"
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>You almost piss yourself and drop your beer bottle on the floor.
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>Turning around, you almost piss yourself again.
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>Glowing crimson eyes are staring at you.
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>Well, one glowing crimson eye anyway.
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>Derby is smiling up at you, sitting on her haunches.
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>That cheery smile with the demon eyes is seriously making the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
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>But what really seems wrong-
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>"MY NAME IS DERBY HOOBS. IT'S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, ANONYMOUS."
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>Oh God...
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>Her voice sounds just like Gilbert Gottfried.
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>"I AM SO EXCITED TO START A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP WITH YOU. PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME FROM NOW ON."
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>No.
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>Fuck no.
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>You run back over to your computer and start going through the software settings.
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>You notice that Derby's derpy eye follows your movements while she stays facing toward your kitchen.
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>There is NO way you're going to have a damn Gottfried pony.
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>Finally, you find the 'voice modulator' setting.
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>It's actually preset to 'Gilbert'.
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>What the hell is wrong with China?
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>You scroll through a rather large list of voice settings.
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>At the top is the 'Derby Original' setting.
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>You click that like no tomorrow.
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>Looking behind you, you see Derby's eyes blink like traffic lights.
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>Did she just reset?
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>She looks down and her eyes suddenly focus.
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>You lean over your chair closer to her.
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"Hello?"
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>The pony slowly turns her head to you.
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>Oh fuck, that's probably the creepiest thing you've ever seen...
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>She's still smiling and her blood eyes are zeroed in on you.
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>She slowly stretches out her wing and raises it toward the roof.
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"Um, Derby?"
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>She tilts her head, still smiling.
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>"Is that my name?"
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>Well, her voice sounds normal.
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>At least, it sounds like the Derpy Hooves from the original episode when she talked.
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>Only, it sounds... Empty.
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>Despite the smile, there is a definitive melancholy in her voice.
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"Yes, your name is Derby. My name is Anonymous."
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>You should call her Derpy.
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>But, somewhere in your mind you hold on to a selfish notion.
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>That is not Derpy.
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>"Why am I here?"
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>That catches you off guard.
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>She flaps her one wing and reaches up with a hoof, touching her face.
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>"What am I, Anonymous?"
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>Damn.
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>You're going to need another beer for this.
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"You're... You're a pony, Derby."
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>You don't want to tell her what she really is.
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>She folds her wing to her side and nods slowly.
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>Her eyes go derpy again.
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>There's still that smile.
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>Maybe she can't not smile?
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>You get up and make to go for the kitchen again.
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>"Please don't leave me."
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>You stop and look back at Derby.
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>In complete silence, she moved when your back was turned.
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>You flinch back from the ponybot mere inches from you, looking up with those glowing eyes and that haunting smile.
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>Your eyes are drawn to the '23' on her forehead.
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>"Please, take Derby with you, Anonymous."
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>You swallow and nod slowly.
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"Okay. I'm just going into the kitchen to get a drink. You can come with, if you want?"
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>Derby just stares up at you, unblinking and smiling.
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"Oooookay."
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>Turning around again, you walk into the kitchen.
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>A quick look back and you see that Derby is following.
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>She is still attached to the computer by her cord, but it unplugs and falls to the floor when she gets far enough away.
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>She makes absolutely no noise when she walks.
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>Her wing hangs limply down at her side, grazing the floor as she goes.
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>Her tail drags like a snake behind her.
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>And that smile...
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>"Please don't leave me, Anonymous."
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>You give her a sad look and open the fridge.
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"I'm not going anywhere, Derby. I promise I won't leave you."
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>Derby sits down on the kitchen floor and her eyes focus on you again as you open a beer with shaky hands.
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>"Promise... You, promise Derby. Okay."
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>With a nod, she looks down at her hoof.
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>You take a big drink and watch her examine herself.
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"Are you okay, Derby?"
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>She whispers so softly, you barely make it out.
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>"I promise I am not experiencing pain..."
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>You freeze in place, the hairs on your neck rising again.
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"What was that?"
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>Derby looks up at you again.
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>Her eyes are looking in different directions.
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>One at the ground, one at the beer in your hand.
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>Slowly, the eyes move and focus on you.
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>It takes everything you have to not look away.
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>Her smile seems to get larger.
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>"Please don't leave me, Anonymous."
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>You sigh and take another large drink.
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"I promised I wouldn't, remember?"
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>Derby finally closes her eyes.
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>"I remember something. You made a promise. You promised, Anonymous."
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>Her eyes open again and seem to glow brighter.
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>"Anonymous promised Derby. Derby remembers. Please don't leave me."
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>You won't get any sleep tonight.
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--- 03.
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>A blanket is pulled over your head.
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>Only a bit of your face sticks out.
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>Enough to breathe and stare at your bedroom wall.
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>Behind you, you can feel them.
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>Those glowing crimson eyes are burning into the back of your head.
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>Derby seems to have one setting when it comes to personal space.
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>Magnetic.
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>Wherever you go, Derby follows.
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>Always asking you to please not leave her.
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>She crawled up into your bed when you went to lay down.
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>Because of the instruction manual being in Chinese (and having no damn diagrams), you don't know where Derby's power switch is.
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>Does she even have one?
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>How long does her battery charge last?
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>For twenty minutes now, Derby has sat behind you, watching you try to sleep in your blanket cacoon.
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>Just staring at you.
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>There's got to be some way to change her settings.
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>Tomorrow, you will mess with that.
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>But for now, you need to sleep.
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>You have work tomorrow.
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>As you think of work, your eyes begin to slowly close.
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>"Anonymous."
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>The soft melancholy voice snaps your eyes back open.
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"What is it, Derby?"
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>You feel her weight shift behind you.
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>Your cell phone charging on the bedside table creates enough light to cast a shadow of Derby on the wall in front of you.
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>You can see that she is stretching her wing toward the ceiling again.
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>It's an ominous sight.
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>"Derby thought you were leaving."
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>You sigh and pull the blankets tighter around your face.
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"I'm just trying to go to sleep."
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>Silence fills the room.
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>"Please don't sleep. Derby will be alone."
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>Damn it.
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>You sit up suddenly and grab the TV remote off your bedside table.
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"How about I let you watch something while I sleep?"
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>The glowing eyes stare back at you in the dark.
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>You turn on your small bedroom TV.
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>The History Channel is on, showing a documentary about The Titanic.
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"How about this?"
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>You look back to Derby.
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>She stares at the tv, both eyes focused.
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>It seems like she's entranced.
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"Derby?"
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>You wave a hand in front of her face.
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>She keeps on staring straight ahead, focused on the show.
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"Nice."
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>Laying back down, you pull the blanket comfortably up to your chin and sigh.
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>Finally, some sleep.
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>You stare at the ceiling.
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>Looking one last time at Derby, your breath catches in your throat.
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>Her head is turned back toward you.
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>Those red eyes glow like embers.
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>"I like this. Thank you, Anonymous."
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>You move your feet against each other under the blankets.
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"Uh, that's good. You should keep watching then."
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>Derby just smiles at you.
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>The glow from the TV behind her makes the sight even more unnerving.
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>"Goodnight, Anonymous."
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>Her head turns back around and she is hypnotized by the tv again.
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>You reach over to your bedside table once more, this time opening the drawer.
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>Pulling out your bottle of cough syrup, you open it and take a quick swig.
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>You want to fall asleep as quickly as possible.
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>Deeply asleep.
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>The faint noises of the Titanic documentary carry to your ears for a while.
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>Then the effects of the diphenhydramine start to take hold.
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>You feel Derby rest her wing on your leg.
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>As you fall into a drug-induced sleep, you feel a twinge of guilt.
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>It feels like you are leaving her, in a way.
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>The sound of your alarm wakes you up.
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>You turn it off and groan against your pillow.
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>A dreamless sleep.
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>It's time to get ready for work.
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>First, a shower-
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>You go to move, but now that your mind is slowly waking up, you notice a weight on your legs.
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>Between your legs.
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>You look down and are met with a red-eyed stare.
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>Derby lays curled up between your legs.
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>The TV is still on in the background.
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>Derby smiles at you.
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>"Good morning, Anonymous."
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>You yawn and hoist yourself up.
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"Mornin'. Did you sleep, Derby?"
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>Derby's eyes wander off.
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>"Yes. Derby slept for three hours, fourty-six minutes and eight seconds."
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>You chuckle and rub your eyes.
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"That's pretty precise. I hope your sleep-mode was enjoyable."
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>You get out of bed and stretch.
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>"Derby had a dream."
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--- 04.
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>As you smoke a cigarette out on your back balcony, Derby watches you.
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>It's been a long time since you have smoked.
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>Your nerves need it.
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>Just as always, she smiles.
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>Since you had one of those closed off balconys, you let the ponybot follow you outside.
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>She followed you into the bathroom when you did your morning routine.
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>It was kind of awkward taking a piss with her standing right behind you.
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>Luckily, she didn't try to follow you into the shower when you went in.
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>She just sat outside the curtain.
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>Smiling.
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>You tried to ask her what her 'dream' was about.
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>But she only stated she didn't remember.
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>It's hard for you to believe that she can even have a dream.
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>Maybe it's a pre-programmed response?
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>As you smoke, you watch one of Derby's eyes follow a bird soaring through the sky.
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>She turns her head to track its movement.
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>When it is out of sight, Derby extends her wing out and looks over at it.
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>You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
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>Maybe you should have just left the wing detached...
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"Derby, do you want to fly?"
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>The ponybot looks away from her wing and back to you.
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>The wing drops and hangs limply at her side.
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>For a moment she doesn't say anything.
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>Then-
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>"No. I don't like that."
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>Your brow furrows.
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>Shouldn't she be programmed with an 'instinct' to fly?
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>"Derby doesn't want to fly. Derby wants to stay on the ground, with you."
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>Oh, that's actually kind of cute.
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>It would be a lot cuter if she didn't sound like her pet fish just died though.
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>"Derby will never leave Anonymous. Derby promises."
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>You look back at the sky, smoke drifting past your eyes.
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"Yeah..."
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>You have to leave.
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>It's time to go to work.
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"Derby, I have to go to work now, okay?"
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>She sits on the couch, smiling at you as you put your shoes on.
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"Hey, I didn't think of this, but are you going to be fine with your battery life while I'm at work?"
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>Derby looks down.
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>"My charge is at seventy-nine percent. Derby will plug herself in to charge when battery life drops below forty percent."
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>Well that takes care of that.
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>You stand up and take out your car keys.
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"Okay, Derby. I'm going now. Maybe you should just go into sleep-mode until I'm back?"
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>She just stares at you from the couch.
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>You really don't want to leave her alone in your apartment.
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>Didn't really think of that when you decided to order a ponybot.
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"See you later."
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>You exit your apartment and close the door behind you.
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>Just as the latch catches, something slams into the door on the other side.
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>It makes you recoil away.
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>You can hear Derby slamming her hooves against the wood.
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>It sounds like even her wing is beating against it.
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>"Anonymous? Where are you?"
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>Her sad little voice is muffled through the door.
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>"Anonymous, don't leave Derby!"
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>You quickly open the door back up.
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>Derby sits smiling up at you.
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>"Hello, Anonymous. Welcome home."
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>You sigh and rub your temple.
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>This isn't going to work.
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>Thinking quickly, you enter the apartment and close the door behind you.
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"Derby, I have to go to work. But how about I leave the TV on for you?"
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>Derby follows you over to the couch silently.
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>You pick up your remote and turn the TV on.
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>Derby's attention is drawn to it immediately.
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>Both of her eyes zero in on the screen.
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>She's completely transfixed, standing in front of the couch.
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>With a chuckle, you bend down and pick her up.
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>She's light.
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>Maybe around forty pounds.
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>Her fur is soft, and her wings are covered by a surprisingly high quality batch of synthetic feathers.
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>But you can still feel the solidness of metal and polymer below her coat.
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>Her eyes stay fixed to the commercial on TV, but her front hooves wrap around your neck suddenly.
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>You can't place her down on the couch.
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>She has you wrapped in a tight hug.
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>Her head nuzzles under your chin as she watches the commercial over your shoulder.
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>Suddenly, you want to call in sick to work.
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>This is what you wanted when you ordered Derby.
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>You shift your arms a bit and return the hug.
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>Her belly is against your torso.
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>Unbreathing.
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>There is no warmth coming from her.
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>But the feeling of her squeezing you close and the feeling of her coarse mane against your neck makes you close your eyes.
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>'Don't leave me, please.'
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>No.
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>You have to go to work.
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>With effort, you grab Derby's sides and peel her away from you.
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>She hangs suspended in your outstretched arms, still staring at the TV behind you.
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>You place her on the couch, her long tail draping over the edge and down to the floor.
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"Derby, I'm leaving now."
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>She stares straight at the TV.
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>"I want to watch Titanic."
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>You raise an eyebrow.
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>Oh, that's right.
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>Last night she watched that documentary.
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>Luckily, you actually have a copy of The Titanic on DVD.
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>A gift long ago from your mother.
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>You go over to your DVD rack by the TV and find it.
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>Popping it into the DVD player, you grab the remote and set it up.
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>After a short explaination of the controls to Derby, you get ready to leave again.
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>Derby sits on the couch, lost in the world of the doomed ship.
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>Her eyes seem to be glowing in waves.
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>Like she's processing information.
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>After work, you will plug her in and see what you can do about some of her settings.
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>She lays down with her head resting on her front hooves, her red eyes never leaving the screen.
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>You open the front door and look back at her.
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"I'm going to work, Derby."
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>She doesn't move.
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"I'll be back around five."
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>Her eyes are one with the TV.
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>With that, you step outside and close the door behind you, locking it.
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>The only sound from the other side is the faint music from The Titanic, taking Derby to another world.
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--- 05.
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>Work was shit.
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>You work in a restaurant, as a cook.
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>It's not glorious, but it pays the bills.
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>Barely.
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>You drive home in your piece of shit car.
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>Right after work, you stopped at the corner store to pick up some stuff before going home.
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>Some fresh cigarettes, beer (Pabst, because it's cheap) and another bottle of cough syrup.
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>You feel sort of gutted about picking up smoking again.
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>It's been over six months since you quit.
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>And the Nyquil-
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>Well, it seems you are going to have to start leaving the TV in your room on for Derby while you sleep.
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>The Nyquil will help.
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>Derby was on your mind all day.
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>You pull into your apartment complex and park, flicking your spent cigarette out of the window before rolling it up.
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>Before you can even turn your car off, your phone starts going off in your pocket.
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>You cut the engine and dig your phone out.
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>The screen reads 'MOM'.
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"Damn..."
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>You light another cigarette before you answer.
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"Hello?"
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>"Where are you?"
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>Her voice is loud and you press the 'volume down' button a couple of times.
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"I just got home from work."
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>"Oh. I'm making dinner."
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>That seems like a blunt anecdote, but you immediately understand the implication.
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"I can't come over tonight. I'm too tired."
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>You lean your seat back and blow a big cloud of smoke at the roof of your car.
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>"You haven't been over in two months."
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>Has it been that long?
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>"Well, whatever."
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>She's annoyed.
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>"I have mail for you. Come get it whenever."
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>It's annoying that your mail still sometimes shows up there.
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"I'll come over this-"
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>"It's a letter for debt collection. How much do you owe?"
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>Your heart sinks.
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"You opened my mail?"
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>"It came to my house. Your father wanted me to throw it out. How much do you owe?"
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>You close your eyes and let the cigarette burn between your lips.
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"I don't want to talk about it. I'll come over this weekend to pick it up, okay?"
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>"When are you going to get your shit together, Ano-"
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>You hang up on her and throw your phone down on the passenger seat.
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>For a while, you sit staring out of the windshield at the cardboard dumpster in front of your car.
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>The cigarette in your mouth has burned out and a large portion of ash drops into your lap.
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>You groan and get out of your car, grabbing the plastic bag from the corner store and slamming the door shut.
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>Today was a shitty day.
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>Derby is exactly where you left her.
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>You enter your apartment and quickly close the door behind you.
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>Derby is still on the couch, staring at the TV.
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>The Titanic is still playing.
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>She must have watched it at least two times already.
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"I'm home, Derby."
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>Her eyes never leave the TV.
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>You walk over and pick up the remote, pointing it at the screen.
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>When it goes black, Derby hops right off the couch and slinks over to you.
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>She sits at your feet and smiles up at you, one eye drifting off.
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>"Welcome home, Anonymous. Derby missed you."
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>You set the plastic bag on your coffee table.
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"I missed you too. How was your day?"
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>Derby's wing suddenly reaches forward and brushes against your leg.
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>You stand still as her wing pats your knee.
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>"Derby doesn't remember."
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>She smiles up at you as her wing continues to slide around your pant leg.
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>Is she doing it on purpose?
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"Well, it seems like you watched Titanic a few times."
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>You pull your leg away from her and pull a beer from out of the bag.
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"I'm gonna make something to eat and then we can plug you into the computer, okay?"
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>She just watches you open your can of beer with her smile.
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>As you take a drink, your eyes are drawn to the red '23' on her forehead.
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>You lean down and brush your thumb across it.
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>Some of her mane slides over the back of your hand.
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>Her eyes cross, following your hand and her mouth opens silently.
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>The painted numbers feel indented, like they were roughly stamped into her skull.
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>"Anonymous, how was your day?"
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>Her wing comes up again and starts doing its strange patting motion against your wrist.
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>Now you are aware of what is happening.
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>Just as you were curious about the numbers on her forehead, Derby must be curious about you.
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>Her wing seems to be examining you.
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>You straighten up again and take another drink.
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"It was... Good."
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>You grab the bag from the table and walk to the kitchen.
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>Derby follows, her wing brushing the back of your legs.
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>It feels sort of surreal-
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>A robot trying to physically examine you.
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>But you don't mind.
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>You turn on the kitchen light.
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>It's a small kitchen.
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>A dingy kitchen.
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>The yellowed light makes it seem like the place is always grimey, no matter how much you clean.
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>You set your bag on your slightly tilted table and pull the cans of beer out.
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>In the corner is your small fridge.
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>You open it and place the beer inside.
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>Aside from the beer now, your fridge is pathetically sparse.
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>A carton of eggs.
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>Some pickles.
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>Some expired chicken breast.
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>'When are you going to get your shit together?'
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>You quickly close the fridge and sit at the kitchen table with your beer.
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>The light flickers overhead.
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>You sigh and stare at the scratched up table top.
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>Without thinking, you reach into the bag again and pull out the Nyquil.
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>Sleep is all you want right now.
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>You open the medicine and take a large drink.
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>It makes you shiver.
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>A sudden noise draws your attention.
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>Derby is pushing your other wooden chair toward where you sit.
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>She slides it across the linolium until it bumps against your chair.
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>With a smile, she crawls up on the chair beside you.
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"Derby?"
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>The ponybot takes a seat next to you and leans her head against your side.
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>Her wing wraps around your back.
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>She moves her head against your ribs, like she's nuzzling you.
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>"How was your day, Anonymous?"
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>That makes your chest tighten up.
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>You take another drink of beer.
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>With one arm, you reach around Derby and pull her small body against you.
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>Your eyes wander over to the counter.
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>Beside your microwave sits a stack of mail.
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>All of the letters state the same thing.
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>'How much do you owe?'
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>"Did you have a good day, Anonymous?"
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>You close your eyes and take another drink.
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"It was bad. But I'm doing better now."
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>Derby's wing pats your back.
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>"Derby wants to be better too."
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>You look down at the top of her head.
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>The light flickers again and for a moment only the red glow of her eyes light the room.
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"How are you feeling, Derby?"
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>In the silence that follows, you fill yourself with more alcohol.
-
>The cough syrup feels heavy in your gut.
-
>"Derby was lonely."
-
>So she does remember.
-
>That hollow feeling returns.
-
>"But Derby learned."
-
>Your hand brushes over her side.
-
>Across the notch where her missing wing should be attached.
-
"Learned what?"
-
>Her wing moves up your back and the feathers slide across the bare skin of your neck.
-
>Goosebumps spread over your flesh and you shiver again.
-
>"Derby learned that if she is lonely, I can press play."
-
>Press play?
-
>Ah, she means the DVD.
-
>It's a good thing you actually had that.
-
>You nod and finish your beer.
-
"That's good. I don't want you to be lonely."
-
>Finally, your pathetic kitchen light gives out.
-
>You are left sitting in darkness.
-
>Save for Derby's glowing eyes.
-
>"Can we press play?"
-
>You stand up, Derby's wing sliding down your body.
-
>You open the fridge and grab a new beer, throwing your empty one into the trash.
-
"Alright. Let me smoke a cigarette and then we can watch Titanic together, okay?"
-
>Her eyes stare back at you in the dark.
-
>"Anonymous?"
-
>You open your beer.
-
>"Are we lonely?"
-
>The sounds of your neighbors arguing next door come through the thin wall.
-
>You reach into your pocket and take out your cigarettes.
-
>A dog starts barking outside as the sound of police sirens scream past on the street below.
-
"Let's press play, Derby."
-
-
-
--- 06.
-
-
>It's hard to say exactly when you fell asleep.
-
>You don't remember.
-
>NyQuil will do that to you.
-
>The first thing you notice when you awake on your couch is the wetness on your waist.
-
>Second, the sun is trying to shine into your living room through the closed blackout curtains.
-
>Third, the wetness in your pants turns out to be from the spilled beer can that was in your hand when you fell asleep.
-
>Your waist and a spot on the couch are soaked.
-
>This is not the first time your couch got a beer bath.
-
>The fourth thing you notice is-
-
>"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?!"
-
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
-
>Your blurry eyes look up to where the SpongeBob theme song is playing on the TV.
-
>Derby is standing only a foot or so away from the screen.
-
>As she sings along, she shakes her butt from side to side.
-
>Her wing is held high and her long tail swishes on the ground behind her.
-
>"If nautical nonsense be something you wish!"
-
>Derby keeps shaking her back end in an awkward jig and sings back to the screen.
-
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
-
>Her singing voice is flat and morose sounding.
-
>But she seems to be happy, dancing and bobbing her head.
-
>Your head is killing you.
-
>And your stomach is sick.
-
"Derby..."
-
>The pony turns her head around while still shaking her butt.
-
>Her everpresent smile greets you.
-
>"Good morning, Anonymous. SpongeBob SquarePants."
-
>You take the empty beer can from beside your waist and place it on the table in front of you, where six other empty cans stand.
-
"Yeah. SpongeBob SquarePants."
-
>You grab your phone from off the arm rest and check the time.
-
>Two in the afternoon.
-
>Derby turns back to the TV.
-
>Even though the song is over, she still jitters a bit.
-
>Luckily, you don't have work today.
-
>Your head throbs.
-
>There's a nasty taste in the back of your throat.
-
"Ugh..."
-
>You grab your pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and take one out.
-
>Never have you smoked in your apartment, but right now you can't find the intestinal fortitude to make your way outside.
-
>So you light up right on the couch.
-
>"Derby likes this show."
-
>You lean back on the couch and look at Derby.
-
>Her head moves slightly, following the movements of characters on the screen.
-
>Without an ashtray, you grab the beer can you just set down and ash your cigarette into it.
-
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
-
>Today you will plug Derby back in and examine her settings.
-
>Today you will.
-
>But after a nap.
-
>You're soaked in beer and your head feels like ground beef.
-
>There's no point in trying to deal with this right now.
-
>So you take the half-empty bottle of NyQuil from the table beside the couch and have a drink from that.
-
>At least you don't have to work today.
-
>There's really nothing for you to do.
-
>So you finish your cigarette and drift back to sleep.
-
>The last thing you remember is the sight of Derby bouncing happily in front of the television.
-
-
-
-
-
>Today is the seventeenth.
-
>Your phone bill comes out today.
-
>The TV and internet comes out in two days.
-
>And the car insurance is today as well.
-
>One more paycheck this month and then your rent is due on the first.
-
>You sit at your kitchen table, looking at the sheet of paper where you've tracked bills.
-
>There's not much to work with in terms of money.
-
>It took a lot of saving to buy Derby.
-
>That's part of the reason why your fridge is so bare now.
-
>You put your phone down and creak back in your chair, sighing and running a hand through your hair.
-
>Derby watches from her chair right beside you.
-
>You take a drink of beer and pat her head.
-
"I have to go shopping, Derby."
-
>You are hungry.
-
>It's a bad idea to go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, but you desperately need food.
-
>It's a good thing Derby doesn't need to eat.
-
>"I want to go shopping with Anonymous."
-
>You finish your last can of beer and toss it into the overflowing trash.
-
"No. You have to stay here, Derby."
-
>"Please don't leave Derby alone."
-
"I'm just going to the store, I'll be right ba-"
-
>There's a sudden knock at your front door.
-
>No one ever visits in the evening.
-
>No one ever visits.
-
>You get up and go into the living room, with Derby following on your heels and her wing brushing against your legs.
-
>Going to the front door, you look out through the peephole.
-
>Your mother stands on the other side of the door.
-
>The sight makes a sinking feeling in your stomach.
-
>There is no way you can let her see Derby.
-
>So you pick the pony up and rush to your bedroom.
-
>Derby wraps her legs aground your neck and you almost run into a wall when her wing comes up to pat your face.
-
>"I like it when you hold me, Anonymous."
-
>You peel her off and set her down on your bed.
-
"Okay, Derby... Please stay in here. Don't come out until I come get you, okay?"
-
>Derby just sits and smiles at you.
-
>One of her eyes drifts down.
-
>As insurance for her compliance, you turn the TV on.
-
>Her attention is drawn to the screen instantly.
-
>It's still on the History Channel, so hopefully Ancient Aliens will keep her distracted.
-
>With that, you leave your bedroom and close the door behind you.
-
>Outside, you can hear your mom pounding on the front door.
-
>From the kitchen, the sound of your phone buzzing on the table reaches your ears.
-
>You bound over and unlock the three different locks on your door and open it.
-
>Your mother's grumpy face stares at you.
-
>"Why didn't you answer your phone?"
-
"I didn't know you were planning on coming over."
-
>You can see her eyes scanning the inside of your apartment behind you.
-
>Shifting your body in the door frame, you try to block her view.
-
>"I was out at my book club, so I decided to come by and check on you. So you're smoking again, huh?"
-
>You try not to glare at her.
-
>It's really hard.
-
"Yeah. Sorry, but I'm actually going to go to the grocery store soon."
-
>She is still trying to look into your apartment.
-
>"At nine at night?"
-
"I was asleep today. Walmart is open twenty-four hours."
-
>"Are you going to invite me in?" She snaps.
-
"I'm about to leave."
-
>She makes her impatient face and you can tell she doesn't care about anything you have to say.
-
>"I have something for you."
-
>You see that down in the parking lot, there are three guys standing near a car, smoking.
-
>They all look like tweekers and are watching you speak with your mother.
-
"Alright, come on in."
-
>You move aside and your mother rushes past you.
-
>Once the door is closed and locked, you turn and see that your mom is staring down at your coffee table.
-
>It's cluttered with the usual mess of papers, cups, knick-nacks and used plates.
-
>But now there are empty beer cans with ash on the tops, a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of NyQuil.
-
>"You're smoking in here?"
-
>You sigh and go to do damage control on the kitchen before she can see it.
-
"Only a bit. I didn't-"
-
>"That's disgusting."
-
>You roll your eyes and march into the kitchen.
-
>There's nothing you can do.
-
>The pile of dirty dishes in the sink.
-
>The trash overflowing next to the fridge.
-
>The mess on the table.
-
>So instead of trying to mask the filth, you just grab your phone.
-
>Your mother comes into the kitchen and makes a disgusted 'tch' sound.
-
>"I wasn't expecting it to be this bad."
-
"Yeah. I get it. I really have to get going soon. I haven't eaten today."
-
>She steps over an empty box of cereal on the ground and over to the table, acting like anything she touches will try to bite her.
-
>"Here."
-
>She places a slip of paper down on the table.
-
>You lean over and look as she takes a pen out of her purse.
-
"What is that?"
-
>"How much do you owe?"
-
>She starts filling out a check.
-
>Your stomach clenches and you lean back.
-
"Listen, I don't need-"
-
>"How much do you owe?"
-
>You know she's not going to give this up.
-
>With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair.
-
"Three thousand..."
-
>She looks up from the check and gives you a look.
-
>That look hurts more than anything.
-
>A mixture of irritation and disappointment.
-
>With a 'tch', she finishes filling out the check.
-
>"I'm not going to ask why. I'm not going to tell you how to fix what you have done."
-
>She folds the check in half and slides it in front of you.
-
>"Just get it together."
-
>You look into her cold eyes.
-
>"For the love of God, Anon. Get. Your shit. Together."
-
>The only thing you can do is stare at her with your mouth slightly open.
-
>Without a word, she hoists her purse up on her shoulder and exits your kitchen.
-
>You stare down at the check in front of you.
-
>It seems too heavy to pick up from the beat up table.
-
>The sound of your front door slamming makes you look up.
-
>You sit staring at the door of the kitchen in silence.
-
>"Anonymous?"
-
>Derby pokes her head into the kitchen.
-
>She smiles at you, one eye looking over toward the stove.
-
>"Is it okay for Derby to come out?"
-
>She's already-
-
>You offer her a weak smile.
-
"Yes, Derby. Thank you."
-
>The ponybot walks silently into the kitchen.
-
>Without a word, she crawls up into your lap.
-
>You shift in your chair, caught off guard.
-
>Derby wraps her hooves around your neck and hugs you tightly.
-
>Her mane slides across your face in an orange mesh.
-
>"I am your Carpathia."
-
>That makes you blink in confusion.
-
>Derby's wing wraps over your head.
-
>It almost feels like a hand pulling you closer.
-
>"I will save you from drowning, Anonymous."
-
>You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.
-
"Damn..."
-
-
-
-
-
>You were wrong.
-
>All wrong.
-
>The calculations were all wrong.
-
>There's less money in your bank account than you thought.
-
>It turns out you only have fifty dollars left.
-
>Fifty dollars to your name.
-
>After the phone bill and insurance, you don't even have enough to pay the TV and internet bill.
-
>And now there is even less after your trip to the store.
-
>After checking your bank account and finding your meager funds, you had to make a choice.
-
>So now, as you stand in your kitchen looking at your 'groceries', you feel drained.
-
>The box of ramen noodles and cans of beefaroni will have to last you for the next week.
-
>You can do it.
-
>Of course- you didn't NEED the beer, NyQuil and cigarettes.
-
>Of course.
-
>But you bought them anyway.
-
>You light a cigarette and take a drink of NyQuil as you listen to the sounds of The Titanic playing on the TV in the living room.
-
>The feeling of the syrup sliding down your throat helps.
-
>You ash your cigarette into the sink and look over at the table.
-
>Your mother's check still lays in the same place.
-
>Three thousand dollars.
-
>You can pay off your debt.
-
>Or-
-
>You could use some to buy food...
-
>No.
-
>You have to get your shit together.
-
>There's a vibration in your pocket and you slap your hand to your leg.
-
>Your phone.
-
>Taking it out, you turn on the screen.
-
>A text message.
-
>From your dad.
-
>With your heart kicking up suddenly, you open the message.
-
>'After you cash the check don't bother talking to us for a while. Thank your mother then handle your business.'
-
>You stare at that message for a while.
-
>Long enough to go through the rest of your cigarette and on to a new one.
-
>Putting your phone on the counter, you open a Pabst and take a good long drink.
-
>Through the wall, you can hear your neighbors start their yelling match.
-
>There's the sound of glass breaking and a woman starts crying.
-
>With your beer, you leave the kitchen and walk into the living room.
-
>There's no light, save for the TV.
-
>And Derby's crimson eyes.
-
>She sits on the couch, smiling at the screen.
-
>You walk down the hall and to your bathroom.
-
>Closing the door, you turn on the light and take another drink of beer.
-
>You catch a sight of yourself in the mirror.
-
>It makes you turn away.
-
>You get into the bathtub and sit down.
-
>In one drink, you finish your beer.
-
>Swallowing, you crush the can in one hand and throw it violently at the door.
-
>It bounces off and slides across the linoleum.
-
>You pull your knees to your chest and hang your head between them with your eyes closed.
-
>When is this going to stop?
-
>You are twenty-seven.
-
>When do things get better?
-
"It's too late..."
-
>The door to the bathroom opens.
-
>You don't look up.
-
>Derby walks into the bathroom and you know she is staring at you sitting in the bathtub.
-
>Smiling.
-
>You can hear the sound of her shifting around and a clicking noise.
-
>Lifting your head slowly, you turn to her.
-
>She stands smiling at you.
-
>Using her wing like a hand, she points the TV remote at you and clicks it over and over.
-
>Pressing 'play'.
-
>Finally, you cry.
-
>You sob like a baby, sitting in your bathtub with your knees pulled tightly to your chest.
-
>"What is wrong with you, Anonymous? Derby doesn't know... What is wrong with you?"
-
by BlueGem
by BlueGem
by BlueGem
by BlueGem
by BlueGem