--- 01.

>You ordered a 'random selection' discount Chinese pony model.
>There's a small hope inside of you that it will be something cool.
>Probably not though, since you've heard how crappy these things are.
>And a random selection model was all you could afford.
>Finally, it arrives.
>In a giant box with yellow masking tape all fucking over it.
>It seems someone spilled a mystery liquid on it as well.
"Well, let's see the damage."
>You open the box.
>Styrofoam peanuts everywhere.
>There's a piece of paper with a bunch of Chinese moon runes on it.
>Though, at the top there is some English writing.
>'Model 0023. Derby Hoobs'
>The paper falls out of your hands.
"Oh God... What have I done?"

--- 02.

>You don't know why you did it.
>No- you know exactly why you did it.
>This never ending loneliness will make the lowest man howl at the moon...
>Ah fuck, you're kind of drunk.
>Well, the Derpy Hooves pony bot is finished.
>She sits on your living room floor, still lifeless.
>You have her plugged in to your computer, still booting up.
>This 'Derby Hoobs' is a mess.
>Her mane and tail are orange.
>Fucking orange.
>And one of her wings is missing.
>You decided to attach the one wing, in the hopes she could still get some use out of it.
>Okay, so for whatever reason, the Chinese manufacturers decided to put her model number on her head.
>There is a bright red '23' stamped in the middle of her forehead.
>And last but not least: her eyes.
>Yes, they got the 'derpiness' of her eyes right.
>It's the color that's all wrong.
>To be honest, her eyes are creepy.
>They are red.
>Crimson red.
>When you first plugged her in to the computer to boot up, they glowed, then went dark again.
>It made your heart skip.
>You hope they don't glow like that when she comes to life.
>Another odd feature is that her tail is way too long.
>It's like they forgot to turn the machine off that made her tail.
>When she walks, it's going to drag on the floor behind her.
>Oh well, maybe you'll trim it up later.
>Right now, you just want to get her started up.
>And another beer...
>You get up to go to the kitchen.
>Maybe this was a mistake.
>There's no way this thing could come close to the ponies you've loved for years.
>"HELLO!"
>You almost piss yourself and drop your beer bottle on the floor.
>Turning around, you almost piss yourself again.
>Glowing crimson eyes are staring at you.
>Well, one glowing crimson eye anyway.
>Derby is smiling up at you, sitting on her haunches.
>That cheery smile with the demon eyes is seriously making the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
>But what really seems wrong-
>"MY NAME IS DERBY HOOBS. IT'S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, ANONYMOUS."
>Oh God...
>Her voice sounds just like Gilbert Gottfried.
>"I AM SO EXCITED TO START A BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP WITH YOU. PLEASE TAKE CARE OF ME FROM NOW ON."
>No.
>Fuck no.
>You run back over to your computer and start going through the software settings.
>You notice that Derby's derpy eye follows your movements while she stays facing toward your kitchen.
>There is NO way you're going to have a damn Gottfried pony.
>Finally, you find the 'voice modulator' setting.
>It's actually preset to 'Gilbert'.
>What the hell is wrong with China?
>You scroll through a rather large list of voice settings.
>At the top is the 'Derby Original' setting.
>You click that like no tomorrow.
>Looking behind you, you see Derby's eyes blink like traffic lights.
>Did she just reset?
>She looks down and her eyes suddenly focus.
>You lean over your chair closer to her.
"Hello?"
>The pony slowly turns her head to you.
>Oh fuck, that's probably the creepiest thing you've ever seen...
>She's still smiling and her blood eyes are zeroed in on you.
>She slowly stretches out her wing and raises it toward the roof.
"Um, Derby?"
>She tilts her head, still smiling.
>"Is that my name?"
>Well, her voice sounds normal.
>At least, it sounds like the Derpy Hooves from the original episode when she talked.
>Only, it sounds... Empty.
>Despite the smile, there is a definitive melancholy in her voice.
"Yes, your name is Derby. My name is Anonymous."
>You should call her Derpy.
>But, somewhere in your mind you hold on to a selfish notion.
>That is not Derpy.
>"Why am I here?"
>That catches you off guard.
>She flaps her one wing and reaches up with a hoof, touching her face. 
>"What am I, Anonymous?"
>Damn.
>You're going to need another beer for this.
"You're... You're a pony, Derby."
>You don't want to tell her what she really is.
>She folds her wing to her side and nods slowly.
>Her eyes go derpy again.
>There's still that smile.
>Maybe she can't not smile?
>You get up and make to go for the kitchen again.
>"Please don't leave me."
>You stop and look back at Derby.
>In complete silence, she moved when your back was turned.
>You flinch back from the ponybot mere inches from you, looking up with those glowing eyes and that haunting smile.
>Your eyes are drawn to the '23' on her forehead.
>"Please, take Derby with you, Anonymous."
>You swallow and nod slowly.
"Okay. I'm just going into the kitchen to get a drink. You can come with, if you want?"
>Derby just stares up at you, unblinking and smiling.
"Oooookay."
>Turning around again, you walk into the kitchen.
>A quick look back and you see that Derby is following.
>She is still attached to the computer by her cord, but it unplugs and falls to the floor when she gets far enough away.
>She makes absolutely no noise when she walks.
>Her wing hangs limply down at her side, grazing the floor as she goes.
>Her tail drags like a snake behind her.
>And that smile...
>"Please don't leave me, Anonymous."
>You give her a sad look and open the fridge.
"I'm not going anywhere, Derby. I promise I won't leave you."
>Derby sits down on the kitchen floor and her eyes focus on you again as you open a beer with shaky hands.
>"Promise... You, promise Derby. Okay."
>With a nod, she looks down at her hoof.
>You take a big drink and watch her examine herself.
"Are you okay, Derby?"
>She whispers so softly, you barely make it out.
>"I promise I am not experiencing pain..."
>You freeze in place, the hairs on your neck rising again.
"What was that?"
>Derby looks up at you again.
>Her eyes are looking in different directions.
>One at the ground, one at the beer in your hand.
>Slowly, the eyes move and focus on you.
>It takes everything you have to not look away.
>Her smile seems to get larger.
>"Please don't leave me, Anonymous."
>You sigh and take another large drink.
"I promised I wouldn't, remember?"
>Derby finally closes her eyes.
>"I remember something. You made a promise. You promised, Anonymous."
>Her eyes open again and seem to glow brighter.
>"Anonymous promised Derby. Derby remembers. Please don't leave me."
>You won't get any sleep tonight.

--- 03.

>A blanket is pulled over your head.
>Only a bit of your face sticks out.
>Enough to breathe and stare at your bedroom wall.
>Behind you, you can feel them.
>Those glowing crimson eyes are burning into the back of your head.
>Derby seems to have one setting when it comes to personal space.
>Magnetic.
>Wherever you go, Derby follows.
>Always asking you to please not leave her.
>She crawled up into your bed when you went to lay down.
>Because of the instruction manual being in Chinese (and having no damn diagrams), you don't know where Derby's power switch is.
>Does she even have one?
>How long does her battery charge last?
>For twenty minutes now, Derby has sat behind you, watching you try to sleep in your blanket cacoon.
>Just staring at you.
>There's got to be some way to change her settings.
>Tomorrow, you will mess with that.
>But for now, you need to sleep.
>You have work tomorrow.
>As you think of work, your eyes begin to slowly close.
>"Anonymous."
>The soft melancholy voice snaps your eyes back open.
"What is it, Derby?"
>You feel her weight shift behind you.
>Your cell phone charging on the bedside table creates enough light to cast a shadow of Derby on the wall in front of you.
>You can see that she is stretching her wing toward the ceiling again.
>It's an ominous sight.
>"Derby thought you were leaving."
>You sigh and pull the blankets tighter around your face.
"I'm just trying to go to sleep."
>Silence fills the room.
>"Please don't sleep. Derby will be alone."
>Damn it.
>You sit up suddenly and grab the TV remote off your bedside table.
"How about I let you watch something while I sleep?"
>The glowing eyes stare back at you in the dark.
>You turn on your small bedroom TV.
>The History Channel is on, showing a documentary about The Titanic.
"How about this?"
>You look back to Derby.
>She stares at the tv, both eyes focused.
>It seems like she's entranced.
"Derby?"
>You wave a hand in front of her face.
>She keeps on staring straight ahead, focused on the show.
"Nice."
>Laying back down, you pull the blanket comfortably up to your chin and sigh.
>Finally, some sleep.
>You stare at the ceiling.
>Looking one last time at Derby, your breath catches in your throat.
>Her head is turned back toward you.
>Those red eyes glow like embers.
>"I like this. Thank you, Anonymous."
>You move your feet against each other under the blankets.
"Uh, that's good. You should keep watching then."
>Derby just smiles at you.
>The glow from the TV behind her makes the sight even more unnerving.
>"Goodnight, Anonymous."
>Her head turns back around and she is hypnotized by the tv again.
>You reach over to your bedside table once more, this time opening the drawer.
>Pulling out your bottle of cough syrup, you open it and take a quick swig.
>You want to fall asleep as quickly as possible.
>Deeply asleep.
>The faint noises of the Titanic documentary carry to your ears for a while.
>Then the effects of the diphenhydramine start to take hold.
>You feel Derby rest her wing on your leg.
>As you fall into a drug-induced sleep, you feel a twinge of guilt.
>It feels like you are leaving her, in a way.

-

>The sound of your alarm wakes you up.
>You turn it off and groan against your pillow.
>A dreamless sleep.
>It's time to get ready for work.
>First, a shower-
>You go to move, but now that your mind is slowly waking up, you notice a weight on your legs.
>Between your legs.
>You look down and are met with a red-eyed stare.
>Derby lays curled up between your legs.
>The TV is still on in the background.
>Derby smiles at you.
>"Good morning, Anonymous."
>You yawn and hoist yourself up.
"Mornin'. Did you sleep, Derby?"
>Derby's eyes wander off.
>"Yes. Derby slept for three hours, fourty-six minutes and eight seconds."
>You chuckle and rub your eyes.
"That's pretty precise. I hope your sleep-mode was enjoyable."
>You get out of bed and stretch.
>"Derby had a dream."

--- 04.

>As you smoke a cigarette out on your back balcony, Derby watches you.
>It's been a long time since you have smoked.
>Your nerves need it.
>Just as always, she smiles.
>Since you had one of those closed off balconys, you let the ponybot follow you outside.
>She followed you into the bathroom when you did your morning routine.
>It was kind of awkward taking a piss with her standing right behind you.
>Luckily, she didn't try to follow you into the shower when you went in.
>She just sat outside the curtain.
>Smiling.
>You tried to ask her what her 'dream' was about.
>But she only stated she didn't remember.
>It's hard for you to believe that she can even have a dream.
>Maybe it's a pre-programmed response?
>As you smoke, you watch one of Derby's eyes follow a bird soaring through the sky.
>She turns her head to track its movement.
>When it is out of sight, Derby extends her wing out and looks over at it.
>You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
>Maybe you should have just left the wing detached...
"Derby, do you want to fly?"
>The ponybot looks away from her wing and back to you.
>The wing drops and hangs limply at her side.
>For a moment she doesn't say anything.
>Then-
>"No. I don't like that."
>Your brow furrows.
>Shouldn't she be programmed with an 'instinct' to fly?
>"Derby doesn't want to fly. Derby wants to stay on the ground, with you."
>Oh, that's actually kind of cute.
>It would be a lot cuter if she didn't sound like her pet fish just died though.
>"Derby will never leave Anonymous. Derby promises."
>You look back at the sky, smoke drifting past your eyes.
"Yeah..."

-

>You have to leave.
>It's time to go to work.
"Derby, I have to go to work now, okay?"
>She sits on the couch, smiling at you as you put your shoes on.
"Hey, I didn't think of this, but are you going to be fine with your battery life while I'm at work?"
>Derby looks down.
>"My charge is at seventy-nine percent. Derby will plug herself in to charge when battery life drops below forty percent."
>Well that takes care of that.
>You stand up and take out your car keys.
"Okay, Derby. I'm going now. Maybe you should just go into sleep-mode until I'm back?"
>She just stares at you from the couch.
>You really don't want to leave her alone in your apartment.
>Didn't really think of that when you decided to order a ponybot.
"See you later."
>You exit your apartment and close the door behind you.
>Just as the latch catches, something slams into the door on the other side.
>It makes you recoil away.
>You can hear Derby slamming her hooves against the wood.
>It sounds like even her wing is beating against it.
>"Anonymous? Where are you?"
>Her sad little voice is muffled through the door.
>"Anonymous, don't leave Derby!"
>You quickly open the door back up.
>Derby sits smiling up at you.
>"Hello, Anonymous. Welcome home."
>You sigh and rub your temple.
>This isn't going to work.
>Thinking quickly, you enter the apartment and close the door behind you.
"Derby, I have to go to work. But how about I leave the TV on for you?"
>Derby follows you over to the couch silently.
>You pick up your remote and turn the TV on.
>Derby's attention is drawn to it immediately.
>Both of her eyes zero in on the screen.
>She's completely transfixed, standing in front of the couch.
>With a chuckle, you bend down and pick her up.
>She's light.
>Maybe around forty pounds.
>Her fur is soft, and her wings are covered by a surprisingly high quality batch of synthetic feathers.
>But you can still feel the solidness of metal and polymer below her coat.
>Her eyes stay fixed to the commercial on TV, but her front hooves wrap around your neck suddenly.
>You can't place her down on the couch.
>She has you wrapped in a tight hug.
>Her head nuzzles under your chin as she watches the commercial over your shoulder.
>Suddenly, you want to call in sick to work.
>This is what you wanted when you ordered Derby.
>You shift your arms a bit and return the hug.
>Her belly is against your torso.
>Unbreathing.
>There is no warmth coming from her.
>But the feeling of her squeezing you close and the feeling of her coarse mane against your neck makes you close your eyes.
>'Don't leave me, please.'
>No.
>You have to go to work.
>With effort, you grab Derby's sides and peel her away from you.
>She hangs suspended in your outstretched arms, still staring at the TV behind you.
>You place her on the couch, her long tail draping over the edge and down to the floor.
"Derby, I'm leaving now."
>She stares straight at the TV.
>"I want to watch Titanic."
>You raise an eyebrow.
>Oh, that's right.
>Last night she watched that documentary.
>Luckily, you actually have a copy of The Titanic on DVD.
>A gift long ago from your mother.
>You go over to your DVD rack by the TV and find it.
>Popping it into the DVD player, you grab the remote and set it up.
>After a short explaination of the controls to Derby, you get ready to leave again.
>Derby sits on the couch, lost in the world of the doomed ship.
>Her eyes seem to be glowing in waves.
>Like she's processing information.
>After work, you will plug her in and see what you can do about some of her settings.
>She lays down with her head resting on her front hooves, her red eyes never leaving the screen.
>You open the front door and look back at her.
"I'm going to work, Derby."
>She doesn't move.
"I'll be back around five."
>Her eyes are one with the TV.
>With that, you step outside and close the door behind you, locking it.
>The only sound from the other side is the faint music from The Titanic, taking Derby to another world.

--- 05.

>Work was shit.
>You work in a restaurant, as a cook.
>It's not glorious, but it pays the bills.
>Barely.
>You drive home in your piece of shit car.
>Right after work, you stopped at the corner store to pick up some stuff before going home.
>Some fresh cigarettes, beer (Pabst, because it's cheap) and another bottle of cough syrup.
>You feel sort of gutted about picking up smoking again.
>It's been over six months since you quit.
>And the Nyquil-
>Well, it seems you are going to have to start leaving the TV in your room on for Derby while you sleep.
>The Nyquil will help.
>Derby was on your mind all day.
>You pull into your apartment complex and park, flicking your spent cigarette out of the window before rolling it up.
>Before you can even turn your car off, your phone starts going off in your pocket.
>You cut the engine and dig your phone out.
>The screen reads 'MOM'.
"Damn..."
>You light another cigarette before you answer.
"Hello?"
>"Where are you?"
>Her voice is loud and you press the 'volume down' button a couple of times.
"I just got home from work."
>"Oh. I'm making dinner."
>That seems like a blunt anecdote, but you immediately understand the implication.
"I can't come over tonight. I'm too tired."
>You lean your seat back and blow a big cloud of smoke at the roof of your car.
>"You haven't been over in two months."
>Has it been that long?
>"Well, whatever."
>She's annoyed.
>"I have mail for you. Come get it whenever."
>It's annoying that your mail still sometimes shows up there.
"I'll come over this-"
>"It's a letter for debt collection. How much do you owe?"
>Your heart sinks.
"You opened my mail?"
>"It came to my house. Your father wanted me to throw it out. How much do you owe?"
>You close your eyes and let the cigarette burn between your lips.
"I don't want to talk about it. I'll come over this weekend to pick it up, okay?"
>"When are you going to get your shit together, Ano-"
>You hang up on her and throw your phone down on the passenger seat.
>For a while, you sit staring out of the windshield at the cardboard dumpster in front of your car.
>The cigarette in your mouth has burned out and a large portion of ash drops into your lap.
>You groan and get out of your car, grabbing the plastic bag from the corner store and slamming the door shut.
>Today was a shitty day.

-

>Derby is exactly where you left her.
>You enter your apartment and quickly close the door behind you.
>Derby is still on the couch, staring at the TV.
>The Titanic is still playing.
>She must have watched it at least two times already.
"I'm home, Derby."
>Her eyes never leave the TV.
>You walk over and pick up the remote, pointing it at the screen.
>When it goes black, Derby hops right off the couch and slinks over to you.
>She sits at your feet and smiles up at you, one eye drifting off.
>"Welcome home, Anonymous. Derby missed you."
>You set the plastic bag on your coffee table.
"I missed you too. How was your day?"
>Derby's wing suddenly reaches forward and brushes against your leg.
>You stand still as her wing pats your knee.
>"Derby doesn't remember."
>She smiles up at you as her wing continues to slide around your pant leg.
>Is she doing it on purpose?
"Well, it seems like you watched Titanic a few times."
>You pull your leg away from her and pull a beer from out of the bag.
"I'm gonna make something to eat and then we can plug you into the computer, okay?"
>She just watches you open your can of beer with her smile.
>As you take a drink, your eyes are drawn to the red '23' on her forehead.
>You lean down and brush your thumb across it.
>Some of her mane slides over the back of your hand.
>Her eyes cross, following your hand and her mouth opens silently.
>The painted numbers feel indented, like they were roughly stamped into her skull.
>"Anonymous, how was your day?"
>Her wing comes up again and starts doing its strange patting motion against your wrist.
>Now you are aware of what is happening.
>Just as you were curious about the numbers on her forehead, Derby must be curious about you.
>Her wing seems to be examining you.
>You straighten up again and take another drink.
"It was... Good."
>You grab the bag from the table and walk to the kitchen.
>Derby follows, her wing brushing the back of your legs.
>It feels sort of surreal-
>A robot trying to physically examine you.
>But you don't mind.
>You turn on the kitchen light.
>It's a small kitchen.
>A dingy kitchen.
>The yellowed light makes it seem like the place is always grimey, no matter how much you clean.
>You set your bag on your slightly tilted table and pull the cans of beer out.
>In the corner is your small fridge.
>You open it and place the beer inside.
>Aside from the beer now, your fridge is pathetically sparse.
>A carton of eggs.
>Some pickles.
>Some expired chicken breast.
>'When are you going to get your shit together?'
>You quickly close the fridge and sit at the kitchen table with your beer.
>The light flickers overhead.
>You sigh and stare at the scratched up table top.
>Without thinking, you reach into the bag again and pull out the Nyquil.
>Sleep is all you want right now.
>You open the medicine and take a large drink.
>It makes you shiver.
>A sudden noise draws your attention.
>Derby is pushing your other wooden chair toward where you sit.
>She slides it across the linolium until it bumps against your chair.
>With a smile, she crawls up on the chair beside you.
"Derby?"
>The ponybot takes a seat next to you and leans her head against your side.
>Her wing wraps around your back.
>She moves her head against your ribs, like she's nuzzling you.
>"How was your day, Anonymous?"
>That makes your chest tighten up.
>You take another drink of beer.
>With one arm, you reach around Derby and pull her small body against you.
>Your eyes wander over to the counter.
>Beside your microwave sits a stack of mail.
>All of the letters state the same thing.
>'How much do you owe?'
>"Did you have a good day, Anonymous?"
>You close your eyes and take another drink.
"It was bad. But I'm doing better now."
>Derby's wing pats your back.
>"Derby wants to be better too."
>You look down at the top of her head.
>The light flickers again and for a moment only the red glow of her eyes light the room.
"How are you feeling, Derby?"
>In the silence that follows, you fill yourself with more alcohol.
>The cough syrup feels heavy in your gut.
>"Derby was lonely."
>So she does remember.
>That hollow feeling returns.
>"But Derby learned."
>Your hand brushes over her side.
>Across the notch where her missing wing should be attached.
"Learned what?"
>Her wing moves up your back and the feathers slide across the bare skin of your neck.
>Goosebumps spread over your flesh and you shiver again.
>"Derby learned that if she is lonely, I can press play."
>Press play?
>Ah, she means the DVD.
>It's a good thing you actually had that.
>You nod and finish your beer.
"That's good. I don't want you to be lonely."
>Finally, your pathetic kitchen light gives out.
>You are left sitting in darkness.
>Save for Derby's glowing eyes.
>"Can we press play?"
>You stand up, Derby's wing sliding down your body.
>You open the fridge and grab a new beer, throwing your empty one into the trash.
"Alright. Let me smoke a cigarette and then we can watch Titanic together, okay?"
>Her eyes stare back at you in the dark.
>"Anonymous?"
>You open your beer.
>"Are we lonely?"
>The sounds of your neighbors arguing next door come through the thin wall.
>You reach into your pocket and take out your cigarettes.
>A dog starts barking outside as the sound of police sirens scream past on the street below.
"Let's press play, Derby."

https://youtu.be/H_lSX-f_tdY

--- 06.

>It's hard to say exactly when you fell asleep.
>You don't remember.
>NyQuil will do that to you.
>The first thing you notice when you awake on your couch is the wetness on your waist.
>Second, the sun is trying to shine into your living room through the closed blackout curtains.
>Third, the wetness in your pants turns out to be from the spilled beer can that was in your hand when you fell asleep.
>Your waist and a spot on the couch are soaked.
>This is not the first time your couch got a beer bath.
>The fourth thing you notice is-
>"Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?!"
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
>Your blurry eyes look up to where the SpongeBob theme song is playing on the TV.
>Derby is standing only a foot or so away from the screen.
>As she sings along, she shakes her butt from side to side.
>Her wing is held high and her long tail swishes on the ground behind her.
>"If nautical nonsense be something you wish!"
>Derby keeps shaking her back end in an awkward jig and sings back to the screen.
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
>Her singing voice is flat and morose sounding.
>But she seems to be happy, dancing and bobbing her head.
>Your head is killing you.
>And your stomach is sick.
"Derby..."
>The pony turns her head around while still shaking her butt.
>Her everpresent smile greets you.
>"Good morning, Anonymous. SpongeBob SquarePants."
>You take the empty beer can from beside your waist and place it on the table in front of you, where six other empty cans stand.
"Yeah. SpongeBob SquarePants."
>You grab your phone from off the arm rest and check the time.
>Two in the afternoon.
>Derby turns back to the TV.
>Even though the song is over, she still jitters a bit.
>Luckily, you don't have work today.
>Your head throbs.
>There's a nasty taste in the back of your throat.
"Ugh..."
>You grab your pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and take one out.
>Never have you smoked in your apartment, but right now you can't find the intestinal fortitude to make your way outside.
>So you light up right on the couch.
>"Derby likes this show."
>You lean back on the couch and look at Derby.
>Her head moves slightly, following the movements of characters on the screen.
>Without an ashtray, you grab the beer can you just set down and ash your cigarette into it.
>"SpongeBob SquarePants."
>Today you will plug Derby back in and examine her settings.
>Today you will.
>But after a nap.
>You're soaked in beer and your head feels like ground beef.
>There's no point in trying to deal with this right now.
>So you take the half-empty bottle of NyQuil from the table beside the couch and have a drink from that.
>At least you don't have to work today.
>There's really nothing for you to do.
>So you finish your cigarette and drift back to sleep.
>The last thing you remember is the sight of Derby bouncing happily in front of the television.

-

>Today is the seventeenth.
>Your phone bill comes out today.
>The TV and internet comes out in two days.
>And the car insurance is today as well.
>One more paycheck this month and then your rent is due on the first.
>You sit at your kitchen table, looking at the sheet of paper where you've tracked bills.
>There's not much to work with in terms of money.
>It took a lot of saving to buy Derby.
>That's part of the reason why your fridge is so bare now.
>You put your phone down and creak back in your chair, sighing and running a hand through your hair.
>Derby watches from her chair right beside you.
>You take a drink of beer and pat her head.
"I have to go shopping, Derby."
>You are hungry.
>It's a bad idea to go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, but you desperately need food.
>It's a good thing Derby doesn't need to eat.
>"I want to go shopping with Anonymous."
>You finish your last can of beer and toss it into the overflowing trash.
"No. You have to stay here, Derby."
>"Please don't leave Derby alone."
"I'm just going to the store, I'll be right ba-"
>There's a sudden knock at your front door.
>No one ever visits in the evening.
>No one ever visits.
>You get up and go into the living room, with Derby following on your heels and her wing brushing against your legs.
>Going to the front door, you look out through the peephole.
>Your mother stands on the other side of the door.
>The sight makes a sinking feeling in your stomach.
>There is no way you can let her see Derby.
>So you pick the pony up and rush to your bedroom.
>Derby wraps her legs aground your neck and you almost run into a wall when her wing comes up to pat your face.
>"I like it when you hold me, Anonymous."
>You peel her off and set her down on your bed.
"Okay, Derby... Please stay in here. Don't come out until I come get you, okay?"
>Derby just sits and smiles at you. 
>One of her eyes drifts down.
>As insurance for her compliance, you turn the TV on.
>Her attention is drawn to the screen instantly.
>It's still on the History Channel, so hopefully Ancient Aliens will keep her distracted.
>With that, you leave your bedroom and close the door behind you.
>Outside, you can hear your mom pounding on the front door.
>From the kitchen, the sound of your phone buzzing on the table reaches your ears.
>You bound over and unlock the three different locks on your door and open it.
>Your mother's grumpy face stares at you.
>"Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"I didn't know you were planning on coming over."
>You can see her eyes scanning the inside of your apartment behind you.
>Shifting your body in the door frame, you try to block her view.
>"I was out at my book club, so I decided to come by and check on you. So you're smoking again, huh?"
>You try not to glare at her.
>It's really hard.
"Yeah. Sorry, but I'm actually going to go to the grocery store soon."
>She is still trying to look into your apartment.
>"At nine at night?"
"I was asleep today. Walmart is open twenty-four hours."
>"Are you going to invite me in?" She snaps.
"I'm about to leave."
>She makes her impatient face and you can tell she doesn't care about anything you have to say.
>"I have something for you."
>You see that down in the parking lot, there are three guys standing near a car, smoking.
>They all look like tweekers and are watching you speak with your mother.
"Alright, come on in."
>You move aside and your mother rushes past you.
>Once the door is closed and locked, you turn and see that your mom is staring down at your coffee table.
>It's cluttered with the usual mess of papers, cups, knick-nacks and used plates.
>But now there are empty beer cans with ash on the tops, a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of NyQuil.
>"You're smoking in here?"
>You sigh and go to do damage control on the kitchen before she can see it.
"Only a bit. I didn't-"
>"That's disgusting."
>You roll your eyes and march into the kitchen.
>There's nothing you can do.
>The pile of dirty dishes in the sink.
>The trash overflowing next to the fridge.
>The mess on the table.
>So instead of trying to mask the filth, you just grab your phone.
>Your mother comes into the kitchen and makes a disgusted 'tch' sound.
>"I wasn't expecting it to be this bad."
"Yeah. I get it. I really have to get going soon. I haven't eaten today."
>She steps over an empty box of cereal on the ground and over to the table, acting like anything she touches will try to bite her.
>"Here."
>She places a slip of paper down on the table.
>You lean over and look as she takes a pen out of her purse.
"What is that?"
>"How much do you owe?"
>She starts filling out a check.
>Your stomach clenches and you lean back.
"Listen, I don't need-"
>"How much do you owe?"
>You know she's not going to give this up.
>With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair.
"Three thousand..."
>She looks up from the check and gives you a look.
>That look hurts more than anything.
>A mixture of irritation and disappointment.
>With a 'tch', she finishes filling out the check.
>"I'm not going to ask why. I'm not going to tell you how to fix what you have done."
>She folds the check in half and slides it in front of you.
>"Just get it together."
>You look into her cold eyes.
>"For the love of God, Anon. Get. Your shit. Together."
>The only thing you can do is stare at her with your mouth slightly open.
>Without a word, she hoists her purse up on her shoulder and exits your kitchen.
>You stare down at the check in front of you.
>It seems too heavy to pick up from the beat up table.
>The sound of your front door slamming makes you look up.
>You sit staring at the door of the kitchen in silence.
>"Anonymous?"
>Derby pokes her head into the kitchen.
>She smiles at you, one eye looking over toward the stove.
>"Is it okay for Derby to come out?"
>She's already-
>You offer her a weak smile.
"Yes, Derby. Thank you."
>The ponybot walks silently into the kitchen.
>Without a word, she crawls up into your lap.
>You shift in your chair, caught off guard. 
>Derby wraps her hooves around your neck and hugs you tightly.
>Her mane slides across your face in an orange mesh.
>"I am your Carpathia."
>That makes you blink in confusion.
>Derby's wing wraps over your head.
>It almost feels like a hand pulling you closer.
>"I will save you from drowning, Anonymous."
>You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.
"Damn..."

-

>You were wrong.
>All wrong.
>The calculations were all wrong.
>There's less money in your bank account than you thought.
>It turns out you only have fifty dollars left.
>Fifty dollars to your name.
>After the phone bill and insurance, you don't even have enough to pay the TV and internet bill.
>And now there is even less after your trip to the store.
>After checking your bank account and finding your meager funds, you had to make a choice.
>So now, as you stand in your kitchen looking at your 'groceries', you feel drained.
>The box of ramen noodles and cans of beefaroni will have to last you for the next week.
>You can do it.
>Of course- you didn't NEED the beer, NyQuil and cigarettes.
>Of course.
>But you bought them anyway.
>You light a cigarette and take a drink of NyQuil as you listen to the sounds of The Titanic playing on the TV in the living room.
>The feeling of the syrup sliding down your throat helps.
>You ash your cigarette into the sink and look over at the table.
>Your mother's check still lays in the same place.
>Three thousand dollars.
>You can pay off your debt.
>Or-
>You could use some to buy food...
>No.
>You have to get your shit together.
>There's a vibration in your pocket and you slap your hand to your leg.
>Your phone.
>Taking it out, you turn on the screen.
>A text message.
>From your dad.
>With your heart kicking up suddenly, you open the message.
>'After you cash the check don't bother talking to us for a while. Thank your mother then handle your business.'
>You stare at that message for a while.
>Long enough to go through the rest of your cigarette and on to a new one.
>Putting your phone on the counter, you open a Pabst and take a good long drink.
>Through the wall, you can hear your neighbors start their yelling match.
>There's the sound of glass breaking and a woman starts crying.
>With your beer, you leave the kitchen and walk into the living room.
>There's no light, save for the TV.
>And Derby's crimson eyes.
>She sits on the couch, smiling at the screen.
>You walk down the hall and to your bathroom.
>Closing the door, you turn on the light and take another drink of beer.
>You catch a sight of yourself in the mirror.
>It makes you turn away.
>You get into the bathtub and sit down.
>In one drink, you finish your beer.
>Swallowing, you crush the can in one hand and throw it violently at the door.
>It bounces off and slides across the linoleum. 
>You pull your knees to your chest and hang your head between them with your eyes closed.
>When is this going to stop?
>You are twenty-seven.
>When do things get better?
"It's too late..."
>The door to the bathroom opens.
>You don't look up.
>Derby walks into the bathroom and you know she is staring at you sitting in the bathtub.
>Smiling.
>You can hear the sound of her shifting around and a clicking noise.
>Lifting your head slowly, you turn to her.
>She stands smiling at you.
>Using her wing like a hand, she points the TV remote at you and clicks it over and over.
>Pressing 'play'.
>Finally, you cry.
>You sob like a baby, sitting in your bathtub with your knees pulled tightly to your chest.
>"What is wrong with you, Anonymous? Derby doesn't know... What is wrong with you?"

https://youtu.be/QtntLccF74o