>Wow, this party is pretty good.
>There’s even some familiar faces, like-
>The room begins to shake with a wild ferocity never felt before.
“Whoa, what the-?!”
>Is this the alcohol or a sudden freak earthquake?
>No answer comes before everything ends up vanishing.
>From the depths of the aether, comes a voice, “Wake up.”
>You jolt, like you were struck by lightning.
>Reality comes along with it.
>Of course you were dreaming.
>It’s a shame most of the details were lost.
>But right now, someone is at your side, gently shaking you.
>“Wake up,” the stranger says.
“Huzzahwha-?” you groggily sputter.
>Blinking a moment, you rub your eyes, clearing up your a bit.
>For one, it’s not a person but a pony.
>For two, you’re still in Equestria.
>And at this very moment, one of the locals is here.
>The details come about in the dim light – a gray coat, black mane and tail, along with a pair of pink, somber eyes, staring at your side.
>A mare, one you know /all/ too well…
>At your stillness, she shakes you again, “Wake up.”
>The corners of your mouth fall.
“I’m already awake.”
>You sit up a little, getting a better look at the clock nearby.
>It’s early… TOO early for this.
>Yet here she is, right before the crack of dawn, no less.
A light yawn escapes you as you slowly blink at her, “Why’d you break into my house?”
>“I didn’t break in, your front door was unlocked, Anon,” she states.
>Of all the times to forget to the lock the door, it just /had/ to be last night, didn’t it?
>No one around here locks theirs, and they’ve brought it up so much that it must be rubbing off on you.
“Okay,” you roll a hand, “so what do you want?”
>“I needed to talk with you.”
>You narrow your gaze.
“And it couldn’t wait until later?”
>Her reply is a swift, “No,” as she shakes her head.
>There’s a feeling of an eye twitch coming on.
>Ignoring that, you sigh.
“Right, well-” you yawn again. “What was it that was /so/ important you needed to talk to me at this hour?”
>Taking a moment to deeply inhale, she exhales slowly, “We’re all going to die.”
>You arch a brow.
“Yeah, and what’s that gotta do with the price of eggs in China?”
>She cocks her head to the side slightly, “What’s a China?”
>That’d be cute if not the current situation.
“It’s nothing. Just, is there anything more you wanted to tell me, or is that it?”
>She flicks her mane out of her eyes, uttering a soft sigh.
>“There is nothing more, just the same old, decaying relic that makes up who and what we are.”
>Her gaze shifts to the floor.
>“But, I had to come tell you, because I know that you’ve been avoiding the truth lately.”
>Incorrect, you’ve been avoiding /her/.

>She’s dark and sensitive, with low self-esteem; the way she looks makes every day feel like Halloween.
“Let me get this straight, beside telling me – and everyone else – about dying so much, you just had to come over to my home, break in-”
>“The door was unlocked,” she interjects.
“-BREAK IN before dawn, and all for the sake of telling me the same thing you say every day?”
>She nods.
>That urge for the eye twitch grows stronger.
>“It’s a sickeningly sweet, somber kind of understanding, Anon. It’s befits all living things once they’re /truly/ aware, like I am. Once you come around to it, it’s easier to accept how things actually are.”
>The more she talks, the more those warnings once said come back to haunt you.
>You really should have heeded them better.
“Okay, so… is that all, or are you done?”
>Deeply sighing, she closes her eyes.
>Upon reopening them, her gaze is next to you, like something else is there.
>“We are never done. It’s not until our hearts stop beating, not until our memories fade, not until our bodies are long gone; not until the sun’s final dawn.”
>Oh yes, some of her “poetry”.
>None of that matters, because it’s still WAY too early for this, so…
>You roll over, pulling the blankets back around tightly, grumbling all the while.
>Mere seconds into the lull, her hoof presses into your back, then gently starts shaking you.
>“Wake up.”
>The eye twitch finally comes, strong and swift.
>She keeps shaking you, “Wake up, we’re all going to die.”
>You throw off the covers, sitting up abruptly in a huff.
“Fine, fine! I’m up.”
>With little restraint, you glare at the little somber mare.
>She still has that perpetual look of a kicked puppy.
>“Are you sure?”
>Another eye twitch occurs, just as powerful as the previous.
>Some part of you is stupid, that’s why you never heeded those warnings.
>Today is going to be yet another difficult one with her.
>Just a typical day with her, Miss Eri.
>…
>You whip up a simple breakfast, and while eating, she plods in, head hung low.
>It’s like she’s walking to the gallows.
>At least she’s staying quiet.
>Don’t jin-
>“Eating only prolongs the suffering. Though I suppose it does feed the insects once we die; our bodies returning back to the soil is among the few, real meaningful things we can do in the brief, blink of existence.”
>She heavily sighs, to which you stop mid-chew, staring at her blankly.
>Her eyes search the floor, then herself, “I’m just skin and bone, but I know it will suffice in /some/ manner to benefit another once I leave this gray, dying world.”
>Past experience says not to engage her.

>Despite how it goes, you often-
“Yeah, but you’d probably feel better if you ate more, Eri.”
>-are stupid.
>She looks up near you with one eye, the other hidden behind her raven mane, “That would never happen. I remain as a testament to suffering, forevermore.”
>If it wasn’t for her coming around so much, more ponies would actually stop by your place.
>After eating, you work on some chores, and of course, she’s keeping you company.
>“...they just don’t understand, and if they did, they wouldn’t turn a blind eye, and a deaf ear to my words.”
>There’s a /good/ reason for that.
>“It’s why they should be reading my poetry, not ignoring it. That would give them a better grasp on the world.”
>You’ve read her work before; sometimes in boredom, sometimes because she forced it on you.
>Aside from seriously needing a proofreader, the contents of her work is edgy as expected.
>Any part that appears remotely hopeful will always – ALWAYS – turn out to be a veil for her sorrowful and sensitive mind and soul.
>Anon, do not think like her.
>The chores go by quick, leaving little else to do for the time being.
>Every place is closed at this hour, which cuts out any work or shopping.
>All that’s left is to kill time.
>You sit on the couch, and at that exact moment, she pulls out her notebook.
>“On the wisp of the fluttering wings, comes the long call of deadly things.”
>Oh no…
>Kick her out.
>Remember what happened last time?
>It doesn’t matter, do it, anyway!
>Listen, you may be stupid, but you’re not that dumb.
>Are you sure?
>Sh-shut up, brain.
>“Hear them cry out their final song, and know it's time to right the wrong.”
>As she continues to read her ‘work’, you march over to the front door.
“I just remembered that I have something else to do in private, so I’ve gotta have you leave, sorry.”
>You open the door and look back to her.
>She’s by the couch, eyes glued to the floor.
>“Leave?” She shakes her head, “I wish I could… really, I do.”
>The eye twitch manifests again.
“But you can, see?” You wave to the open door, “The door is open for you.”
>“Not that one, the other.”
>You arch a brow.
“Come again?”
>“Death’s door,” she says in a quiet voice.
>Of course…
>“Even if I were to try to die out there, I know I’m not lucky enough.”
>She sighs, “I’m stuck forever in suffering, Anon…”
>This isn’t going to end.
>Think of something!
>A sudden bout of clarity draws a smile across your lips.

>Calmly and casually, you walk over to her.
>Then, in a single swift motion, you pick her up and dart back to the door, depositing her on the doorstep.
“There you go. No need to thank me, I know how difficult it can be for you. So now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to-”
>She looks directly into your eyes for the first time today.
“I-”
>She’s staring hard.
“Uh-”
>Her eyes start to water.
“You see-”
>Her bottom lip is quivering.
>Hesitation brews inside of you.
“Er…”
>Her body visibly trembles.
>Do not give in.
>Every muscle tenses up.
>“Anon, are you abandoning me like everypony else has?” she asks in a very soft voice.
>There’s a stirring growing in your chest.
>DO NOT DO IT.
>One tear crawls down her cheek, darkening her already gray coat.
>“I know I’m worthless… you don’t have to tell me. Just, throw me out.”
>Her voice is on the verge of a sob.
>Anon, do not-
>…
>“In the lasting light of the day, so comes the reaper as a stray.”
>Idiot.
>“And despite every little test, nothing could stand against the best.”
>Stupid.
>“Ask not what can be done to stop, but seek out instead the last drop.”
>Brainless.
>“Heed the siren's alluring call, else be blinded before the fall.”
>Her gaze drops from her book back to the floor.
>In the silence, she begins to fidget in place.
>On the outside, you’ve listened quietly.
>Within, you’ve berated yourself.
>Because you gave in.
>There’s just something about ponies, especially her, that somehow make you act against your better judgment.
>Maybe it’s their soft coat, pastel colors, big eyes, or even their plots.
>Despite her not eating much, hers is surprisingly-
“Round.”
>“What?”
>You shake your head, heat briefly flooding your face.
“The poem, I mean. It’s got a round about way of its, er, execution.”
>She nods, “Yeah, it kind of does, doesn’t it?”
>Note to self: censor yourself better.
>You give a quick glance to the clock.
>Somehow, her poetry took up quite a bit of time, and at last, the market is open.
>Now you can be free from her.
>Hopefully.
>…
>You’re walking along, and-
>“There’s no need to hurry there, it’s just going to bring about more pain.”
>-she came along.
>That was unavoidable.
>The market is already fully alive when you reach it.
>Upon seeing you, most ponies give a wide birth.
>“We’re all shambling corpses destined for the grave,” she groans at some unfortunate stranger, who scampers off in a hurry.
>That’s exactly the reason for the space.
>Again, it’s not like you can easily tell her to leave.

>Each stall on the list is visited, with its owner giving you a smile.
>Then, they’ll just about fall apart once they see her, with one literally sprinting away.
>You still pay for your stuff, and pretend nothing is wrong.
>“This is awful…”
>She’s been groaning about this place since you began shopping today.
>“Why do we even bother, it’s all so…” She sighs, “Pointless.”
“That’s just you,” you mutter under your breath.
>“What was that?” she asks, head tilted a little.
>Darn it, you thought she wouldn’t have heard that.
>Readily adopting a smile (a shaky one), you roll a hand.
“I was talking about, uh…”
>Think, think, think-
“We should leave soon…?”
>She’s silent for a moment, then nods.
>“Agreed. Everypony has been avoiding me.”
>If you were smart, you would have, too.
>A sigh leaves her, “I wish they wouldn’t.”
>Shaking her head, she starts to plod forward.
>Unfortunately, a mint-green unicorn mare crosses her path seconds after, to which Eri snaps up.
>“You,” she points points at the other mare.
>The mare stops in place, eyes widening rapidly.
>From nowhere, Eri pulls out one of her poetry books.
>“You should read my book; it will relieve you from this nightmare of a lie.”
>“I, um-”
>“Like this poem, for instance,” she says, flipping to a random page, “The sun shines ever so bright, yet it conceals the long night.”
>“I don’t think-”
>“Once it comes in the sorrow, thus ends the cruel morrow.”
>“Wait, please-”
>“Do not deny that truth there, else you suffer in despair.”
>“I DON’T WANT WHAT YOU’RE SELLING!” screams the mare as she takes off full sprint.
>“But it’s free,” calls out Eri weakly.
>She stands there a moment before lowering her head.
>“I should have known that would happen.”
>Some part wants to argue with her.
>That part is stupid.
“Because you freaked her out.”
>You’re stupid, period.
>She slowly turns in place towards you, hoof drawing circles in the road.
>“They’re all ‘freaked out, Anon,” she sighs dramatically. “It’s their fear imprisoning them in the lie.”
>Well, your words went over her head, so that’s good.
>But from how everyone is looking at you two, it’s probably best to get out of here.
>“There’s always more who will give it a chance, though.”
>No, just… no.
>“And with you here with me, we can work on finding those ponies.”
>Quick decision.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. Gotta, uh,” you thumb over your shoulder, “gotta use the bathroom.”
>You don’t give her a chance to reply before walking (jogging) away to a randomly picked building.
>Despite the warning bells going off, there is no way you intend to hang around any longer.
>The last time you helped her was bad.
>Flashbacks of torches and pitchforks intensify.
>…

>The second you’re home, you lock the doors and exhale a sigh of relief.
“Glad that’s over.”
>You give a peek out the window, finding no trace of her.
>You work on putting things away.
>All the while, thoughts come about unbidden.
>Like the many descriptors for her, not just from others, but from you.
>A black cloud.
>Black sheep.
>Edgy.
>Emo.
>And even-
>“Anon.”
“What, no. That’s not-”
>You stop mid-sentence.
>Very, very slowly, you turn around.
>Standing in the doorway is Miss Eri., color drained like usual.
>Sneaking a peek around her, the front door locks are still in place.
>Somehow, she always returns to you like a boomerang.
>What did you do to deserve this?
>Easy: you didn’t heed any of the warnings.
>“I couldn’t find anypony who wanted my poetry.”
>No surprises there.
>“But, at least you and I understand the pain of living, right?”
>A cold ball forms in your gut.
>You swallow down a hard lump in your throat.
“Uh, y-yeah, sure…”
>She nods solemnly.
>That went better than expected.
>Any tension immediately vanishes.
>“Anon?”
“Yeah?” you reply reflexively.
>“Please don’t leave me alone again, I don’t know what would happen if you did, but I’m sure it would be terrible.”
>With that, she plods into the next room.
>Of course you didn’t get away with it.
>Any remaining care vanishes altogether in that moment.
>You’re tired.
>Not the normal tired, either.
>It’s her.
>She’s affects you.
>Ignoring that, you finish putting things away, and go flop onto the couch.
>Meanwhile, she’s seated nearby, writing something in her notebook.
>You shut your eyes, tuning much of everything out.
>Despite how bad things may seem, it’s not the worst they could be.
>Such as the fact of your unexpected arrival to this world.
>The ponies have gotten used to you, so life is fairly decent.
>There’s been work for you, and some actual friendships being fostered.
>So yeah, it’s-
>A hoof suddenly presses into your side, gently starting to shake you, “Wake up, we’re all going to die.”
>You crack an eye open at her.
“I’m not asleep, I’m just… thinking.”
>She exhales a short breath through her nostrils.
>“Oh, I thought that maybe you were…” Looking away from you, she sighs, “...never mind.”
>This little mare is going to be the death of you someday.
>That’s terrible to think.
>Is it wrong?
>Yes, because she’s actually great once you get passed the whole edgy exterior.
>In fact, she’s-
>“I thought that you might have sought out sleep to escape the world, like I do. But, that’s inescapable.”
>She never quits, does she?
>Stupid question.

>She fidgets for a moment, then picks up her notebook from nearby.
>“I’ve got a new poem for you, Anon.”
>Please, no.
>“I call it, ‘A candle burning in the darkness of Light’.”
“I want to die.”
>“Me too, Anon, me too…”
>There is no end.
>And you’re stuck with her, Miss Eri, forevermore.