GREEN
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1380 7.35 KB 117
1380 7.35 KB 117
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>The chilly late night air nips at your ears; small puffs of breath escape your nostrils.
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>In hindsight you should’ve opted for a coat or at least a hat instead of just a scarf.
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>You pull it higher and tighter around your muzzle as a shiver courses through you.
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>Not like you make good decisions anyways.
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>You’re Miss Eri after all, the saddest pony in Equestria.
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>More like the entire world…
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>Most avoid you after the first meeting and not that you blame them either.
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>You tend to be a bit… grim, so to speak.
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>If Equestria is a canvas of beautiful colors, then you’re the ugly gray smudge of a mistake.
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>Never asked to be like this.
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>Heck, you’d avoid yourself too if you could.
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>Enough with the loathing, that is not why you are out here tonight, you do enough of it at home.
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>You’ve chosen this rare occasion to escape yourself.
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>One of the few times where you venture from home voluntarily.
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>The windows of the homes you pass are darkened, ghostly in their appearance.
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>Their occupants safely tucked away in a peaceful slumber.
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>Often blessed with being surrounded by the ones that they love and love them back.
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>Don’t have that yourself
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>A rare few homes have a sole light on inside, likely a night owl or some pony trying to do something.
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>Or in your case, a night walk.
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>And what a night is.
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>You keep finding your attention drawn to the sky as you trot through the streets.
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>Some wispy clouds lazily drifting across it, but for the most part it is clear.
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>Stars twinkle ever so high above and the moon bathing the land in a gentle glow.
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>Even with her return, Luna’s night is still underappreciated.
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>It’s all just...
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“Beautiful.”
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>One of many ways to describe such a sight like this.
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>Such a strong word at that, one you try not to overuse like many do, much like the word love.
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>Feels like you could spend a lifetime writing poetry on the night itself and still have more to write.
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>You’re never going to be a great poet though, not that you intend on stopping.
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>It has always been a way to express yourself: both deep and personal thoughts; feelings laid bare upon paper.
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>Even if no other ever sees them, they exist as a mark of yourself upon this world.
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>One like all things will eventually fade away with time.
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>You’ve reached the park at last and are getting closer to your final destination of this walk.
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>Lamps light the way, the few benches scattered along the path coated in dew.
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>In the distance unseen but heard by your ears are crickets and other insects calling in the night.
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>At times it aligns into a symphony that could soothe one’s soul.
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>Despite the light of the moon, almost everything is faded out in a reflection of your reality.
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>As you pass by the pond, you recall when you would come here with your parents as a filly.
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>Things were better back then, life was so much more full of vigor.
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>Had friends, went out more, and even felt confident.
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>What happened to you Eri?
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“I changed.”
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>You weren’t like the other foals your age.
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>Didn’t smile or laugh as much, though did you more than you do now.
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>That is to say-
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>No, not again.
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>You’re letting those thoughts you were trying to escape pull you down.
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>Always trying to drown you in them, falling deeper and deeper into the black abyss.
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>You try to ignore them and focus back at the journey at hoof.
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>Going to have to deal with them later when you get home.
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>Thankfully you don’t have much more to travel as you reach the end of the path.
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>Growing up, many would say that the woods were dangerous at night.
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>While there are many things unseen in the dark with shapes that aren’t really there, they’re nothing compared to your inner turmoil.
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>It’s like a sick sort of peace.
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>As you step on a twig and it snaps, a bat flies overhead squeaking.
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>You shake your head, don’t need anything else to add to this stereotypical spooky atmosphere.
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>The clearing is up ahead, then you’ve got a hill to climb.
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>You remember how you found this place.
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>It was when you were younger and still living with your parents.
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>You were running, mostly from yourself and home.
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>Didn’t want anypony to find you, so you ran into these woods.
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>That was a poor choice because you immediately got lost and your sorrow was replaced with terror.
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>The woods themselves felt like some kind of monster trying to claw and drag you into it’s maw.
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>Stumbled about for who knows how long in the dark of night.
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>A rare smile crosses your face as you remember your naivety.
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>Almost at the top, not much further.
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>Eventually you had found the clearing by random chance.
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>You were whimpering like some foal, galloping up that hill and coming to a stop once you realized it ended in a cliff.
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>As you looked down, a part of you begged to jump down and be done with the torment at last.
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>Still swear the abyss below called to you in it’s sweet melody enticing you so.
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>But you didn’t.
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>You hesitated for some reason.
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>Fear, the will the live? You’re not sure.
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>What you are sure of is that as you stood there, you saw the place had an amazing overlook of the land below.
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>Speaking of which.
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“Finally here at last…”
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>Been here many times since that day and your breath still hitches like it did then.
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>A calmness had washed over your young self as you looked at it all, eventually falling asleep from exhaustion.
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>When you woke in the morning, you made your way home.
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>Things didn’t exactly improve from there (no pony knew you were gone), you returned here every so often.
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>You sit down on the edge, letting your legs hang off, eyes slowly going across the land.
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>In the distance is the city of Canterlot, though it’s not very visible right now.
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>Never been there and likely never will.
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>None of the houses below are lit up anymore, it’s all completely dark.
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>All the hustle and bustle of the day extinguished and replaced by the calmness of night.
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>If you lived in a large city like Manehatten, you’d lose out on something like this.
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>Hold a second.
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>Are you actually having a good time right now and enjoying yourself?
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>Well maybe… a little.
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>Doesn’t mean that you’re not allowed some of it dammit, even if it’s in very small doses.
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>But it won’t change who you are, what you are.
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>Tomorrow you’ll rise and still be the same as you were today and yesterday.
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>Same as the previous weeks, months, years...
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>Still will be lonely, miserable, and tired from life.
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>You’ll likely scream, cut, cry, write, and languish about in agony.
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>That doesn’t mean you can’t be allotted this tiny moment right here, right now.
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>For a time you sit there, taking in everything you can.
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>Puffs of breath linger in the air as you exhale slowly and you shiver, a reminder of the chill.
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“Should’ve worn a jacket idiot.”
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>You sigh and close your eyes for a moment.
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>Better off going home and beating yourself up rather than doing it here.
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>A part of you begs to stay, to curl up and die here, to have this place as your final resting place.
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>But you can’t do that, it won’t work.
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>Because you’ve tried before.
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>A few times actually.
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>You sniffle and shake your head, some tears had crept down your face.
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>Can’t escape yourself here it seems.
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“So stupid.”
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>Wiping them away and getting up, you start making your way back.
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>These walks always feel so fleeting and too abrupt.
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>Maybe one of these times you can take a longer one.
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>One that you could travel for as long as forever.
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon
by NHanon