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Blank Spaces
She’d first suspected something was wrong about two months ago, though that time-frame may have been altered: She was given a mission by somepony that she was to go to Baltimare and contact somepony else. There had been a creature sighted that was, by all accounts “truly terrifying”. She had gone, and she had spoken to somepony, and she had then followed the creature’s trail from Baltimare to Filly Delphia, then to Manehatten, to Hollow Shades, to Canterlot, and finally it had tracked her to her home in Ponyville.
She still knew she worked for S.M.I.L.E. That wasn’t lost. But she only remembered one pony other than herself who worked there, and that was the janitor; Squeaky Clean. If she wasn’t able to remember him, she’d have to doubt she actually worked for S.M.I.L.E.
She remembered the corridors, the walls, the paintings, and the overall layout of the place, but she couldn’t remember anypony who worked there. She remembered her training, her first mission, and her first injury. She even remembered the very first snazzy S.M.I.L.E. suit she had been given, but she couldn’t remember the pony who had given it to her.
When she had been assigned the mission, she knew she wasn’t the first, but she only knew that because of the official S.M.I.L.E. document, signed by somepony, with photographs of witnesses with blank names attached to blank photos with dates on them. Anything that was a pony picture or name was gone, leaving the documents dotted with holes throughout, long before she had been assigned it. There was just blank space wherever a name should be, and backgrounds where photographs were. There were still some ponies in a few photographs, but it was clear they weren’t supposed to be the focus of the picture.
Place names were fine. Baltimare had definitely been the first recorded sighting, that wasn’t in doubt. But despite S.M.I.L.E.’s insistence on careful record-keeping, the pony who had been first witness for the field crew was blank. It had been signed, and approval had been written in by somepony else, but the name of both the pony and the pony keeping the records were blank.
Sweetie Drops wasn’t sure if the ponies were missing, dead, or still alive and merely forgotten, but if they were capable of contacting her, they hadn’t, so she had to assume the worst. Everything that indicated any pony associated with the mission still existed was just gone—photos, names, memories—all gone.
Noise came from downstairs, and Sweetie Drops looked up from her bulletin board of records to the as of yet empty hallway just outside her bedroom door. Nothing was there yet, so she looked back at her weak attempt to salvage her own memories somehow.
The bulletin board contained empty photographs with scrawled ink next to it, trying to help her remember the ponies and telling her where and how they could be contacted. But despite her careful efforts and written records, she’d never managed to find anypony. Or if she had, they didn’t remember her, and she certainly didn’t remember them. She was the last pony who knew about the creature and attempts to stop it.
She heard thumping on the stairs, and knew it was only a matter of moments until it found her. She picked up a photograph she had been keeping next to her with a frame that said: “Best Friends” in rainbow lettering across the top.
In the photo, it was herself, hugging air, with her hooves wrapped around nothing and a huge smile on her face. It was obvious there was supposed to be somepony else in the picture, but they were gone. Even if they were still alive, they wouldn’t remember her, and she didn’t remember them.
As the creature’s steps came to the corner of the doorway and its awful face came into view, Sweetie drops felt a surge of terror and had one final, bittersweet thought: “At least nopony will remember me to mourn when I’m gone.”
She still knew she worked for S.M.I.L.E. That wasn’t lost. But she only remembered one pony other than herself who worked there, and that was the janitor; Squeaky Clean. If she wasn’t able to remember him, she’d have to doubt she actually worked for S.M.I.L.E.
She remembered the corridors, the walls, the paintings, and the overall layout of the place, but she couldn’t remember anypony who worked there. She remembered her training, her first mission, and her first injury. She even remembered the very first snazzy S.M.I.L.E. suit she had been given, but she couldn’t remember the pony who had given it to her.
When she had been assigned the mission, she knew she wasn’t the first, but she only knew that because of the official S.M.I.L.E. document, signed by somepony, with photographs of witnesses with blank names attached to blank photos with dates on them. Anything that was a pony picture or name was gone, leaving the documents dotted with holes throughout, long before she had been assigned it. There was just blank space wherever a name should be, and backgrounds where photographs were. There were still some ponies in a few photographs, but it was clear they weren’t supposed to be the focus of the picture.
Place names were fine. Baltimare had definitely been the first recorded sighting, that wasn’t in doubt. But despite S.M.I.L.E.’s insistence on careful record-keeping, the pony who had been first witness for the field crew was blank. It had been signed, and approval had been written in by somepony else, but the name of both the pony and the pony keeping the records were blank.
Sweetie Drops wasn’t sure if the ponies were missing, dead, or still alive and merely forgotten, but if they were capable of contacting her, they hadn’t, so she had to assume the worst. Everything that indicated any pony associated with the mission still existed was just gone—photos, names, memories—all gone.
Noise came from downstairs, and Sweetie Drops looked up from her bulletin board of records to the as of yet empty hallway just outside her bedroom door. Nothing was there yet, so she looked back at her weak attempt to salvage her own memories somehow.
The bulletin board contained empty photographs with scrawled ink next to it, trying to help her remember the ponies and telling her where and how they could be contacted. But despite her careful efforts and written records, she’d never managed to find anypony. Or if she had, they didn’t remember her, and she certainly didn’t remember them. She was the last pony who knew about the creature and attempts to stop it.
She heard thumping on the stairs, and knew it was only a matter of moments until it found her. She picked up a photograph she had been keeping next to her with a frame that said: “Best Friends” in rainbow lettering across the top.
In the photo, it was herself, hugging air, with her hooves wrapped around nothing and a huge smile on her face. It was obvious there was supposed to be somepony else in the picture, but they were gone. Even if they were still alive, they wouldn’t remember her, and she didn’t remember them.
As the creature’s steps came to the corner of the doorway and its awful face came into view, Sweetie drops felt a surge of terror and had one final, bittersweet thought: “At least nopony will remember me to mourn when I’m gone.”
A common concept that can work wonders if handled properly. The problem I have with this one is that there's so much effort put into describing the problem that we aren't allowed to grasp Sweetie Drops' emotional state. Given the last paragraph, I imagine there's supposed to be loss, confusion and fear in there, but no time has been taken to show us that for most of the story. As such, it relies entirely on the reader generating their own emotional response, rather than the story generating it for them.
Great idea, flawed execution. Still a worthwhile read.
Great idea, flawed execution. Still a worthwhile read.
The idea is fair (however redolent of Nolan’s movie Memento) but the execution is lacking. It’s like the story is composed of an overstretched introduction followed by an abrupt conclusion. There is no real meat in between, just a blank space, so to speak.
It could work as a pure introspective piece, but you chose to add some horror/action in it, but instead of developing this aspect to the fullest, we just get a stub of horror and a swollen part of introspection which creates a strong unbalance.
Try to proportionate the two parts better, and you’ll be fine.
It could work as a pure introspective piece, but you chose to add some horror/action in it, but instead of developing this aspect to the fullest, we just get a stub of horror and a swollen part of introspection which creates a strong unbalance.
Try to proportionate the two parts better, and you’ll be fine.
This is as far down the gallery as I've looked, and I don't know if I'll get to any more. This just feels kind of too vague for its own good. Given the title, I assume the blank space in the middle of the story is supposed to mean something, but I didn't get much from it, other than generic lapses in memory. You're an adherent to "the scariest monster is the one you never see," but without any sort of indication of what this monster is capable of, it's hard to feel any dread of it. And then she does see it, which mostly removes the "she's going crazy" possibility. Does it steal memories? It's hard to say. Not all of her former associates are gone; they just don't remember her or their former lives, so it's unclear how dangerous this monster is. If they're perfectly happy, who's to say they're any worse off? Having memory taken is a bad thing on principle, but besides the obvious violation, there doesn't seem to be anything actually bad going on.
You have a good premise, albeit one that's been done enough before, but it's not being applied in the most effective way.
You have a good premise, albeit one that's been done enough before, but it's not being applied in the most effective way.
For what I understand, the monster erase memories of anyone approaching it. That's a kinda neat idea, but as >>PaulAsaran and >>Monokeras mentionned, more then the first half is describing what happened and what's the situation. At the time we arrive at the end, we didn't have time to connect with BonBon, so anything that could happen to her don't really get us invested.
My suggestion would be to add BonBon's POV throughout the whole first half. Tell us how she feels and reacts to everything, thus the ending will definitely be stronger.
My suggestion would be to add BonBon's POV throughout the whole first half. Tell us how she feels and reacts to everything, thus the ending will definitely be stronger.
This would be very much shooting for an SCP antimemetics division vibe, if that was a thing which existed. (I'm linking because those are great stories worth reading; I'm going to try not to judge this in comparison, though.) I'm not sure that's possible to achieve in 750 words.
Agreed with the suggestions of others above. We get precious little emotional impact, partly because of the enforced brevity and partly because this keeps retreating the ground of everything being blanked out rather than focusing on what it means to the character whose head we're in.
Also, if everyone related to the monster-hunting is being systematically erased, how come it's Lyra missing in the final photograph, rather than Bon-Bon herself? Wouldn't ponies unrelated to the mission -- such as the janitor -- be left intact?
Tier: Almost There
Agreed with the suggestions of others above. We get precious little emotional impact, partly because of the enforced brevity and partly because this keeps retreating the ground of everything being blanked out rather than focusing on what it means to the character whose head we're in.
Also, if everyone related to the monster-hunting is being systematically erased, how come it's Lyra missing in the final photograph, rather than Bon-Bon herself? Wouldn't ponies unrelated to the mission -- such as the janitor -- be left intact?
Tier: Almost There