Psychedelica – Pastel Ponies
A pony story by Joseph Raszagal
As inspired by stuff best kept away from children
Chapter Eleven – The Heart of the Problem

We never got around to finishing that game of Risk. After I sped out of the room, Apple Bloom figured that controlling most of the map was enough of a victory and boxed the whole thing back up. She was the first to trot over to me and ask me if I was alright.

I wanted to lie to her. I wanted to tell her that I was doing just dandy.

But I told her the truth.

I wasn't alright.

The worst part about it though, the thing that had my heart tied in a fucking knot, was the fact that I had no idea why I was so upset. I knew it had something to do with my family, but outside of that... the whole thing was a mystery.

It felt like I was looking at an old family photo. There'd be my mom and dad, mom fussing with his hair and cleaning his glasses just like she always did. Uncle Rob would be standing right behind me, giving me a pair of bunny ears and grinning like an idiot. Uncle Jim would be leaning a little off to the side, having never been a big fan of getting his picture taken. But then there was someone else too, someone who'd be standing right next to me with their hand on my shoulder. The conversation with Bloom, Gilda, and Zecora told me that this person was a sibling, or at least made me think that they were, but to what effect? Were they a brother? Were they a sister? Were they some combination of the two that only a heroin-abuser's addled brain could imagine?

I had no idea.

As hard as I tried, I couldn't pull from my mind a single goddamn thing about them. Their name. Their face. Hell, like I said, even their gender. It was all blotted out, like a confidential document with all of its most revealing information crossed out by order of the government with a black permanent marker.

After it became clear that I wouldn't be coming out of my worried, frantic state any time in the near future, Applejack approached me and actually offered me a drink.

I understood the gesture, that she'd go so far as to allow me one of the vices that I'd been prohibited from enjoying, but I turned it down all the same.

Which is weird for me, right? I surprised myself!

Heh, and if anything, that only frightened me even more. Me, a recovering addict of many varying substances, actually turning down a stiff glass of alcohol. That right there told me that whoever this person I couldn't remember was, they were important.

Really important.

The mind's a funny thing sometimes, but we're supposed to remember the important stuff, aren't we?

As I worked off my frustration under a cloudless sky and the bright midday sun, out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Zecora trotting towards me.

“Heya,” I greeted in between bucks, a small shower of apples falling into a few well-placed buckets.

“Greetings, Jeremy,” she replied, “would you mind speaking with me?”

Looking out across the orchards, I turned back to the zebra and said, “Actually, I've got a lot more work to get done. Don't want to be out here blindly kicking trees once it gets dark, right?”

“You've already worked today far more than you needed to,” she stated as she locked eyes with me. “Do not think that it escapes us just what it is you are trying to do.

Scraping at the dirt with a hoof, I averted my eyes and huffed, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Jeremy, please, I seek only to help you,” Zecora continued, her tone even. “In your mind there is a haze that you cannot see through. But know this, my troubled young friend. Running yourself ragged to ignore the pain is no means to an end.”

Now, while I'm usually good at returning fire in a conversation, having the plain truth shoved in your face makes for a tough opponent.

Sensing that she had more to say, I lifted my head to again meet her eyes. They shined with a wisdom that told me no matter how hard or how well I lied, she would still read me like a book.

“You wrestle with feelings that you do not understand,” the zebra spoke, her voice low but rife with emotion, “so you grasp at anger and search for something to reprimand.”

There, right there. That was something I could argue with.

“What are you talking about? I'm not angry, I haven't been angry about anything in weeks!”

Shaking her head solemnly, she continued, “I have seen the look on your face many, many times before. Though you may not remember, there is something that you have yet to forgive yourself for. And while I would like to believe that your words speaking otherwise are true, it is clear to me that the target of your rage is both now and has always been... you.” After pausing for a second, Zecora placed a hoof on my shoulder and, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, said, “You claim to have recovered from your failings, but still, there resides a deep hatred in your heart. You must let go of this anger before the real healing may start.”

A silence settled in between us for a moment. You could have heard a pin drop as though it were an atomic bomb.

“What do I do?” I questioned, a quake in my voice as her words rang like a church bell in my head. “I had a family, a full family, but one of them is just... gone. Missing. Why can't I remember them?”

Turning to direct her gaze towards the Apple Family's farmhouse, Zecora replied, “The answer to that question is what I hope to find. It is a turbulent place, the inner workings of the mind. You will receive no solace out here, bucking apples or pushing a plow. I wish to aid you, Jeremy, but only if you will allow.”

Wordlessly, I nodded my head. Following that, the two of us trotted towards the house.

“The spell I am about to attempt has long been forbidden in my tribe,” Zecora explained as she drew a circle of chalk around me on the floor. “I was exiled for practicing such magics that they could not abide.”

Oh, gee, that makes me feel a whole Hell of a lot better.

Nervously, I tapped a hoof against the floor, careful not to smudge the circle, and asked, “Uh, what is the spell supposed to do?”

Seeing as how the target of my question was busy brewing a potion... or something, Apple Bloom instead approached me and said, “It'll let ya take a trip inside yer head.”

Ooooookay. Well then, that answers everything.

“What my apprentice meant to say,” spoke the zebra as she finished whatever it was that she was doing (which ended up in a cloud of green smoke exploding from her cauldron, just so you know), “is that this spell works in a peculiar way. It will enable both yourself and another to embark upon a journey into your mind. Hopefully, in there will be the answers that you wish to find.”

Briefly, I considered snarking back about how I was pretty much being forced to find those aforementioned answers, but considering the efforts that they were so selflessly going through, and for the benefit of someone who was arguably one of the biggest jackasses in existence, I kept my tap shut.

Instead, however~

“So, I'm going on a spirit quest?” I questioned.

“A what?” came Applejack's confused retort.

Rubbing a hoof against the back of my head, I blushed and said, “Sorry, nothing, just too many hours spent browsing TV Tropes.”

“What?” she repeated, looking even more perplexed.

Before I could come up with a retort that would make more sense to her, Zecora stepped forward and announced that the preparations for the spell were complete.

To say that the following silence was heavy enough to be cut with a knife would be an understatement. I'd been told that not only I, but another, would be joining me inside the clusterfuck that I call my brain.

I knew exactly what was on everybody's minds.

“Apple Bloom and I must stay to maintain the spell,” Zecora stated as she sat down and took on something that reminded me of a Buddhist's meditative stance, “so it falls upon you remaining three too~

“I'll go,” announced Gilda, cutting the zebra off.

An entire room of eyes turned to face the griffon, more than a few of them apprehensive.

“Ya'll sure?” asked Applejack.

Her brother's expression mirrored her own.

Nodding, Gilda stepped inside the circle to sit down beside me and replied, “I'm sure.”

“I can't promise you that my head will make for a great place to vacation,” I said, eying the bird warily. “So, you're totally sure?”

With a shrug, she gave me another of her punches to the shoulder and smirked, “You're a fun guy. When I bite, you bite back. We jerks gotta stick together, right?”

More than a little flattered, I kept my eyes dry and replied, “Right.”

With a spark of light from the circle surrounding both Gilda and I, Zecora sighed and said, “Very well then. Let us begin.”

It was somewhere around that point, as the circle of chalk grew brighter and brighter, that my eyesight started failing me. It's lucky that I was sitting down, because the dizziness that soon followed would have knocked me right on my ass.

The very last thing that I remember before what felt like blacking out was the zebra seated in front of me saying, “Safe travels.”

The fact that she hadn't rhymed was what scared me more than anything else.

To be continued in Chapter Twelve – Remembrance (Flying on the Wisp of a Mental Wind)...