Post by Diamond on Mar 14, 2013 4:04:42 GMT -5
The clouds called.
Diamond rolled onto her back, and stared up at the endless sky. As a pegasus, it called to her; a siren’s song of flight and freedom; demanding her presence above the clouds. She reached an arm up, as if to grasp for the nothingness of the atmosphere, and her gaze fell along the inky blotches along her hooves, up to her elbow. The same blotches that covered most of her body. The same blotches that stole away her sensations of taste, and smell, and touch. The same blotches that were stealing away her ability to fly. It was hard to fly when you couldn’t feel your wings, after all, and all she had wanted to do was touch the sky. She wanted to dance around the stars and feel the cold airy kiss of the night itself. That was all she wanted.
The air called.
She pretended she didn’t notice.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair to put the stars so close, but make them so far.
It wasn’t fair to give her wings that turned all of her dreams into screams.
It wasn’t fair to give her a face with splotches so ugly no pony could fall in love with. No mirror in the world that would make her beautiful. She had wings never meant to climb to the sky, and a body, slowly dying- yet not fast enough for her. A wish she didn’t want-, but a wish she made every night. “Please. Just. Let. It. End.” A wish she was never granted.
It wasn't fair to be given a ‘gift’ of invulnerability- a fancy way of saying that the world would never touch her in the way it touched others. Never touched by a kiss, or a hug, or warm sheets on a cold winter’s day. She. Was. Invulnerable. And soon- never to see the sky, or feel it’s glory.
The atmosphere called.
She wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. She refused to cry. But Princess Luna, how she wanted to. How she wanted to give in to despair and misery, the depression and the hopelessness. It was a tidal wave of emotions that over powered her on a daily basis, sending her into a tearful slumber, night after night, after night after night. She was a stick of dynamite lit on both ends, ready to explode on a moments notice. She was a beautiful tapestry of hate and suffering with tears threatening to burst from the dam of her defenses. A personality, made up of three parts tragedy and two parts agony, and a mentality of blurred reality based on irrationality. She was a ground bound pegasus, watching the colors fade from the world, and the music slowly drifting to echoing nothingness. Her future was a breathtaking, awe-inspiring cruelty and all she could do was watch it crawl towards her with a fatal certainty.
The sky called.
The sky called!
The sky called!
It was cruelty in it’s finest. It was too hard to ignore. The sky was in her ears, and in her eyes, in her blood, and in her heart. She needed to fly. It wasn’t an option anymore, and she was already off the ground before she knew it. They called her Ink Blot. They called her Diamond Disaster, and Oil Spill, and Master Crasher and Freak Show. They called her ‘ugly’ the choice favorite among the fillies and colts her age. The go word they choose, when learning her name was too difficult. And with no parents to call her own, and the disease eating her and every inch of the world bearing down against her shoulders; she flew.
She pumped her wings and sailed into the sky, because they were wrong. They were ALL wrong. They HAD to be wrong. There was a fire inside of her, that burned with something she couldn't place a hoof on. A word she didn't know and a feeling she’d never felt. But it was there. It was a white hot light that lit up her night, and if the world, all told her to quit, it was the voice that told her they were wrong. They were crazy, and there was a way. There HAD to be a way. There was no other day, but today, and today: She flew. Today, was the day her dreams would come true, and today, was the day, she would begin life, anew. No disease, or sickness could take it away from her. No amount of hatred, could silence the voice inside of her- a little voice, so tiny, and quiet and small, but impossible to drown, regardless of the endless names, they piled on top of it. A little voice that wouldn’t be ignored, simply saying, four little words: You, can, do, it.
It was right. There was no way it could be wrong. If the world was a circus, she was it’s freak show, but there was a key to her cage, and if she spent every day reaching for it, one day she’d get it. She’d grab it, and she’d break out! She’d be free, and she’d be a graduating member of the school of success. She could take pride in the fact, that illness or not, sickness, or not, disease or not, She had the heart they wish they had. They could never know how strong it was, even if she got confused, and the tears refused to stop, and the abuse, and names, and the agony, and the suffering buried her for days; She, was, still, here.
So they had to be wrong.
Her wings pumped furiously, but the ground was still rushing up to meet her. She panicked. There weren't any answers, though. Pump her left wing, her right wing, it didn't matter; there wasn't any salvation- just the world plunging into darkness as Diamond crashed into the hill side of Sweet Apple Acres. She was a useless pegasus. A winged creature that couldn't fly, not long for the world, with the colors dying, and the depression amplifying, and the sound muted through perked, and twitchy ears. There wasn't any point.
But even the crash didn't stop it. The voice was still there; tiny, and quiet and persistent.
“You. Are. Wrong.” The world was wrong, true, but so was she. They had to be wrong. She HAD to be wrong. Please let her be wrong. PLEASE LET, HER, BE, WRONG. The last straw of hope she held onto with everything that she had. That, maybe, one day, she’d fly without fail. And her face wouldn't look like a mistake someone tried to erase but couldn't finish the job. And she’d smell the smells of the sky, and taste the air that passed by, and felt the wind rustling through her hair, and one day…maybe…she’d feel a kiss, and find some pony whose baggage matched her own- who wanted her heart to beat in time with theirs. And maybe, one day, she’d stop waiting to die, and learn to live. One day. Someday.
Today.
The sky called.
Diamond climbed to her hooves, and shook the rocks and dirt from her fur. Why not today? A lesser pony would have given up by now. Those ponies that called her names- ponies like her parents, that abandoned her, the world that dealt her a deck filled with rotten cards. They wouldn't have gotten up. They couldn't have gotten up. They’d have been defeated long ago.
But not Diamond Dancer.
Diamond Dancer spread her wings, and drew in a deep breath. It was a long way to the stars, and she was losing daylight. Today was going to be the day. But if not…
Tomorrow looked good too.
Diamond rolled onto her back, and stared up at the endless sky. As a pegasus, it called to her; a siren’s song of flight and freedom; demanding her presence above the clouds. She reached an arm up, as if to grasp for the nothingness of the atmosphere, and her gaze fell along the inky blotches along her hooves, up to her elbow. The same blotches that covered most of her body. The same blotches that stole away her sensations of taste, and smell, and touch. The same blotches that were stealing away her ability to fly. It was hard to fly when you couldn’t feel your wings, after all, and all she had wanted to do was touch the sky. She wanted to dance around the stars and feel the cold airy kiss of the night itself. That was all she wanted.
The air called.
She pretended she didn’t notice.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair to put the stars so close, but make them so far.
It wasn’t fair to give her wings that turned all of her dreams into screams.
It wasn’t fair to give her a face with splotches so ugly no pony could fall in love with. No mirror in the world that would make her beautiful. She had wings never meant to climb to the sky, and a body, slowly dying- yet not fast enough for her. A wish she didn’t want-, but a wish she made every night. “Please. Just. Let. It. End.” A wish she was never granted.
It wasn't fair to be given a ‘gift’ of invulnerability- a fancy way of saying that the world would never touch her in the way it touched others. Never touched by a kiss, or a hug, or warm sheets on a cold winter’s day. She. Was. Invulnerable. And soon- never to see the sky, or feel it’s glory.
The atmosphere called.
She wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. She refused to cry. But Princess Luna, how she wanted to. How she wanted to give in to despair and misery, the depression and the hopelessness. It was a tidal wave of emotions that over powered her on a daily basis, sending her into a tearful slumber, night after night, after night after night. She was a stick of dynamite lit on both ends, ready to explode on a moments notice. She was a beautiful tapestry of hate and suffering with tears threatening to burst from the dam of her defenses. A personality, made up of three parts tragedy and two parts agony, and a mentality of blurred reality based on irrationality. She was a ground bound pegasus, watching the colors fade from the world, and the music slowly drifting to echoing nothingness. Her future was a breathtaking, awe-inspiring cruelty and all she could do was watch it crawl towards her with a fatal certainty.
The sky called.
The sky called!
The sky called!
It was cruelty in it’s finest. It was too hard to ignore. The sky was in her ears, and in her eyes, in her blood, and in her heart. She needed to fly. It wasn’t an option anymore, and she was already off the ground before she knew it. They called her Ink Blot. They called her Diamond Disaster, and Oil Spill, and Master Crasher and Freak Show. They called her ‘ugly’ the choice favorite among the fillies and colts her age. The go word they choose, when learning her name was too difficult. And with no parents to call her own, and the disease eating her and every inch of the world bearing down against her shoulders; she flew.
She pumped her wings and sailed into the sky, because they were wrong. They were ALL wrong. They HAD to be wrong. There was a fire inside of her, that burned with something she couldn't place a hoof on. A word she didn't know and a feeling she’d never felt. But it was there. It was a white hot light that lit up her night, and if the world, all told her to quit, it was the voice that told her they were wrong. They were crazy, and there was a way. There HAD to be a way. There was no other day, but today, and today: She flew. Today, was the day her dreams would come true, and today, was the day, she would begin life, anew. No disease, or sickness could take it away from her. No amount of hatred, could silence the voice inside of her- a little voice, so tiny, and quiet and small, but impossible to drown, regardless of the endless names, they piled on top of it. A little voice that wouldn’t be ignored, simply saying, four little words: You, can, do, it.
It was right. There was no way it could be wrong. If the world was a circus, she was it’s freak show, but there was a key to her cage, and if she spent every day reaching for it, one day she’d get it. She’d grab it, and she’d break out! She’d be free, and she’d be a graduating member of the school of success. She could take pride in the fact, that illness or not, sickness, or not, disease or not, She had the heart they wish they had. They could never know how strong it was, even if she got confused, and the tears refused to stop, and the abuse, and names, and the agony, and the suffering buried her for days; She, was, still, here.
So they had to be wrong.
Her wings pumped furiously, but the ground was still rushing up to meet her. She panicked. There weren't any answers, though. Pump her left wing, her right wing, it didn't matter; there wasn't any salvation- just the world plunging into darkness as Diamond crashed into the hill side of Sweet Apple Acres. She was a useless pegasus. A winged creature that couldn't fly, not long for the world, with the colors dying, and the depression amplifying, and the sound muted through perked, and twitchy ears. There wasn't any point.
But even the crash didn't stop it. The voice was still there; tiny, and quiet and persistent.
“You. Are. Wrong.” The world was wrong, true, but so was she. They had to be wrong. She HAD to be wrong. Please let her be wrong. PLEASE LET, HER, BE, WRONG. The last straw of hope she held onto with everything that she had. That, maybe, one day, she’d fly without fail. And her face wouldn't look like a mistake someone tried to erase but couldn't finish the job. And she’d smell the smells of the sky, and taste the air that passed by, and felt the wind rustling through her hair, and one day…maybe…she’d feel a kiss, and find some pony whose baggage matched her own- who wanted her heart to beat in time with theirs. And maybe, one day, she’d stop waiting to die, and learn to live. One day. Someday.
Today.
The sky called.
Diamond climbed to her hooves, and shook the rocks and dirt from her fur. Why not today? A lesser pony would have given up by now. Those ponies that called her names- ponies like her parents, that abandoned her, the world that dealt her a deck filled with rotten cards. They wouldn't have gotten up. They couldn't have gotten up. They’d have been defeated long ago.
But not Diamond Dancer.
Diamond Dancer spread her wings, and drew in a deep breath. It was a long way to the stars, and she was losing daylight. Today was going to be the day. But if not…
Tomorrow looked good too.
