Chapter One
Why?
It was a simple question. And one I didn't have an answer for. I could simply ask it; it was a question without an answer.
I squatted down behind a brick wall covered in snow. I closed my eyes and wrapped my hooves together in prayer. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident, I swear! You have no idea how shocked I was. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," I whispered. I bit my chapped lip and put my head in my arms.
I forced myself not to cry. I couldn't cry. Even though it was my fault, it wasn't like I'd meant to do it. And even though I didn't mean to do it, the price he paid was so expensive no one could repay him back. I squeezed my eyes shut and sighed. I looked up towards the gray sky, feeling the snow fall lightly on my face.
I sighed and said to myself, "Well, there's no way I can go back home now. Not after this," I looked around for a place to sleep. Yeah, the fact that I couldn't go back home depressed me, but I couldn't dwell on that at the moment. I had to find a place to sleep.
I pushed myself up and started off in no particular direction. The snow that was falling in my hair made my hair damp, and my clothes were beginning to stick together. I groaned and trudged through the snow in my boots.
I wasn't particularly dressed for snow. I had on winter boots, white tights, a purple skirt, and a pink fleece and wool jacket and a pink and purple hat. I didn't even have gloves on. My brown hair dangled limply to my shoulder blades.
Suddenly I was blinded by a yellow light. I looked towards the source to find Mrs. Dunbar waving at me to get in. "Hurry, child, come in from the cold!" she called to me. I smiled a sad smile and walked towards her. Apparently she hadn't heard about my horrible deed.
She smiled warmly at me and presented me with some freshly baked cookies. I already felt bad, so I didn't want to accept any cookies, but Mrs. Dunbar insisted, and I was pretty hungry. I picked up two and walked into the living room. I turned on the TV, and was greeted with a sickening sight.
"The murder happened about an hour ago, in this mall parking lot. Harry Linfield, 32, was killed by a complete stranger. Apparently, she surprised him and pushed him out in front of a passing car. It was too late for the driver to put on brakes. He is not at fault," said Peter Williams, one of the newscasters. Tracy Doolittle, the other newscaster, said, "Peter, who was the killer?" Peter responded, "A young filly, Tracy. Couldn't have been more than 15. According to witnesses, her name is Penel-" I quickly shut the TV off. He was about to say my name. If everypony I knew hadn't known yet, they knew now.
Penelope Hightower, Peter was going to say. It still seemed a bit unreal. Though the way Peter put it, it seemed like I had planned the whole thing. Which was completely not true.
I was simply walking, then started spinning around in circles, I stopped spinning and saw Harry right behind me and he scared me. Then I tripped, so I instinctively put my arms out, expecting him to catch me, but he backed away, so I stumbled forward and accidentally pushed him, and he fell backwards into the road. I didn't see it happen because I was looking down, but I heard everything. And it made me sick.
I really hadn't meant to kill him. It was just bad timing. And he shouldn't have been creeping up on me like that in the first place. I stood up and went to the guest bedroom. Leaning against a wall was a mirror. I looked at it curiously and walked slowly towards it. At first, I saw my reflection. A filly 5'5 with brown hair and green eyes, hair and clothes damp, tired eyes, and a shadow of guilt hovering over her.
I looked away, then back at the mirror. When I saw what was in the mirror, I couldn't even gasp; I was transfixed by the beauty of it.
There was a field with occasional flowers dotting the ground, and the sky was a clear blue, with fluffy white clouds suspended in the air. There was a cluster of trees to one side, and mountain peaks in the distance. But what really caught her attention were the dancing… things.
There were fauns, and dwarves, and elves, and animals all dancing in a big round circle around a huge bonfire. There was one faun playing what looked like a wind flute, and a couple smaller groups were eating, talking, and laughing.
One of the smaller animals, a badger, looked directly at me and held out a piece of cornbread. I flinched, but couldn't look away. The badger motioned for me to come on and join them, but I just knew that would be impossible. I was looking into a mirror after all.
Or was I?
Who knew? Mirrors didn't normally show you a different world with strange beings having fun. Usually they just showed you the boring pony that was yourself. I slowly stepped forward and reached out my hoof to the mirror. My hoof was almost fully immersed when Mrs. Dunbar called out, "Penelope? Where are you, dear? I've made some grilled cheese sandwiches!"
At once my hoof wasn't in what felt like warm water, but it was smashed against cold hard glass, and I wasn't staring at a warm, friendly-looking atmosphere, but my own reflection. The spell was broken, and I sighed. "Coming!" was my reply.
Later that night, after Mrs. Dunbar had already gone to sleep, I fidgeted around in my bed, always thinking of the movie the mirror had shown me. It had to have been real. I couldn't have thought that up, and it felt too real. I looked at the mirror, expecting to see the same scene again, but all I saw was my reflection from the lamplight.
I sighed and pulled the covers over my head. I wished that scene would appear again. I would go in a heartbeat. I was pretty sure that place would be a lot better than this one, which was filled with lies and terrible memories.
The next day, I expected to see the party I had seen before, but it seemed as if the mirror wanted to be normal, because it only showed my reflection.
It would have been two weeks until I saw that occurrence again. I was folding clothes, still at Mrs. Dunbar's house because my parents disowned me. I had been folding my clothes, trying not to cry, but when I saw a shirt my mother bought me just two days prior to my accidental murder, I started to cry.
Mrs. Dunbar had gone to the store, so I was alone, so I didn't try and hide my tears. They flooded my cheeks and wet my shirt, but I didn't care. I couldn't believe my parents would be so quick to completely disown me. Mrs. Dunbar was so nice to me, even after she had learned of what I'd done, because she knew I hadn't meant to do it, but she wasn't my mother. I was of no relation to her, she was just a nice family friend, but she was the closest pony I had to family.
It was then that I looked up and saw the bonfire and the ring of happy beings in the mirror again. I shot up, my shirt crumpling on the floor. I waded through the pile of unfolded clothes and I stared at the mirror. Without another thought, I reached for the mirror. But suddenly I stopped. What about Mrs. Dunbar?
I tore out a piece of paper from my three-year old diary and wrote her a note. I put it on the kitchen table, then raced back to the bedroom, scared that my chance to escape had dissipated in my absence.
It was still there, and with nothing else to do, I ran straight through the mirror.
"Luke!" I groaned and mentally punched myself for not leaving soon enough. I turned around and forced an apologetic smile. "Look, Ali, I have plans. I can't go to the meeting with you. I'm sorry," Ali's big blue eyes looked down, disappointed. All too soon, though, they shot up once again with confidence. "Ok, but next time you'll come," she didn't even wait for me to answer, she simply walked away.
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Yeah right," under my breath, then walked away. Why she insisted on being with me I wasn't completely sure. I tried to make it obvious that I didn't like her, but maybe she thought that was just how I was all the time. I didn't really express my emotions very well.
I shoved my hooves in my pockets and turned for the ten-minute walk home. What I saw didn't surprise me in the least, but I wasn't expecting it to happen there; a group of kids from school were gathered around talking about the big murder thing that was all over the news. Apparently some filly had "murdered" some guy up in New York. Whatever. I didn't believe it.
I walked inside my house and said, "I'm home," and walked up to my room. I wasn't especially tired, but I figured if I pretended I was going to sleep my mom wouldn't ask me about school. I hated when she did that. She didn't need to know everything. I got into bed with my clothes on, even leaving my shoes on. I sighed and pulled the covers up. I closed my eyes and started doing what I always did to help me fall asleep; I thought.
Usually I thought about what had happened at school and how I wished it could be better, but today I thought about something totally irrelevant. I thought about a camp, with centaurs and fauns roaming around, and a huge lion overlooking everything from a high mountain cliff.
I tried to think about other things, but apparently my imaginative part of my brain wanted to stay in the fantasy world. Soon, my thoughts seemed to come alive before my eyes, and I was suddenly standing amidst the animals and centaurs and fauns and dwarves. I looked around, feeling the breeze whip my hair in every direction. One of the centaurs looked at me and stuck his nose up in the air. "Ponies. They always think they don't have to do any work,"
I started to protest but he had already trotted away. "Help with what?" I asked myself softly. I suddenly had that strange feeling that somepony was watching me. I turned and saw the lion looking at me. He motioned with his head for me to meet him up on the cliff, then he turned around and walked out of sight.
I started off along the trail, following the path worn away by hooves and wheels. I ran most of the way, desperate to meet the lion. When I reached the top of the cliff, I looked around for the lion, but he was nowhere to be seen. I looked over the cliff and, to my annoyance, saw the lion walking casually through the camp. I groaned and started the long walk back down.
Suddenly I stopped. Why was I continuing these thoughts? Why didn't I open my eyes? Because I wasn't merely thinking this scene anymore, I told myself, I'm actually here.
That thought alone made me wish I'd accepted Ali's invitation.
Why was life so unfair? I thought to myself, kicking dead leaves out of my way. Haley always got the guys. I was too shy around them, and she was way too approaching. There goes my chance with Isaac. I groaned and stomped my hoof in frustration. "Why does this always happen to me?" I called out to no one in particular.
"Because your soul mate is not in this world, darling," I heard a voice whisper in my ear. "What?" I cried. "He's not in this world? Is that some fancy way of saying he doesn't exist or something?"
"No, dear, I'm saying he exists, and he does live in this world, but you will not meet him here. Instead, you will meet and grow close in a different world," I groaned in frustration. "Stop confusing me! It's rude! Now if you don't mind, I'd like to-" I stopped. Suddenly I realized I had no idea who was talking or to whom I was speaking.
I whipped my head around, but there was no one around. There was a chinaberry tree off to my right, and on my left was a road and a house. The voice seemed to come from my right, so I turned in that direction, but then I shook my head.
Trees don't talk.
Or so I thought.
Suddenly the blossoms and fruits from the chinaberry tree flew off in a silent wind and blew towards me. What scared me was that they formed together in a way that made them appear as if in the form of a pony.
There was the face, a body, hair, and it was even wearing a dress. Now, a normal pony would probably have screamed and run, but me? I could only stare at the blossoms and think how beautiful she looked.
"Arabeth, will you follow me into this other world, and find your soul mate?" she asked. I decided to secretly name her China.
I thought about it. It wasn't every day you got asked by a tree to go to a new world to find your soul mate. Of course, it wasn't every day that you were rejected, either. I decided, because of my crazy, stupid imagination, that if I went with China, I might meet the perfect guy. So, I reached out my hoof.
China smiled and took my hoof, and together we traveled to a different world.
"You're not a princess either!" I looked over at my classmates, who were talking about who knew what, and sighed. I was often excluded from the rest of my class, so often that I knew I'd be working by myself when we had to work with partners. It was all because I was Korean American. Apparently ponies at my school didn't really like Korean Americans, though I have no idea why. Besides, it's not like I did anything wrong. It's not my fault my mom's Korean and my dad's American.
Even though they avoided me, they didn't bully me, because I was always nice to them. My mother taught me to always have good manners, and that if you treated somepony the way you'd like to be treated, eventually they'd get the hint and treat you the same.
So I was shunned, but not picked on. Mostly ponies just didn't talk to me. Which was fine, I guess. I would've rather stare into space and think about things than talk to others anyway.
I'm not saying, of course, that I liked being avoided everyday. Far from it, actually. I wish somepony would talk to me, at least once. Eventually I would run out of things to think about, and I needed somepony to talk to. I didn't even have any siblings, and both my parents work night shifts, so I hardly ever see them. I see them for three hours, at the most. Why they both chose night shifts is beyond me.
"Jason Kim?" Mr. Low said, calling attendance. "Here," I said. I put my head down on my desk and sighed. Why couldn't life just be… easier? Why couldn't ponies look past my race and see me? Because ponies are prejudice, I thought bitterly to myself.
"Mr. Low, can you send Jason Kim to the mane office please? It's urgent," some lady said over the intercom. "Yes," he replied. Mr. Low didn't give me a pass; he just waved me on out the door. "Hurry back, Jason," he said.
I made sure to walk real slow.
When I finally reached the mane office ten minutes later, I poked my head in and said, "Yes?" The lady behind the counter looked up. "Jason Kim?" "Yes ma'am, that's me," I said. She gestured to the stallion sitting in front of her. "This stallion tells me he needs to speak with you," she turned to the stallion. "You can talk to him in the hallway, sir,"
The stallion nodded and got up. Instantly I noticed one of his legs was longer than the other. I knew something was up, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions, so I led him outside, making sure to stand where a camera could watch us.
"Yes sir?" I asked politely. The stallion's expressionless face suddenly grew into a mischievous grin, and he seemed more like a college guy than an old businessman. "Stallion, I love doing that!" he said happily.
"Um… doing what, sir?" I asked hesitantly. "Making ponies think I'm old!" he laughed. "I'm actually only 18. Anyway, I've been sent here because Aslan said you'd be the last one," he looked at me expectantly.
"Um… what?" I asked, completely confused. The guy shrugged. "I don't know. That's all he said. 'Jason Kim is the last one. Go find him in Nebraska,'" he recited. I raised an eyebrow. This guy was obviously nuts.